PREVIEW

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The parking lot was even quieter, with Sylvan Cheney’s Maybach parked not far away.

As soon as she exited the elevator, Jasmine Yale leaned against the wall, looking at Sylvan Cheney, her eyes glistening with a watery sheen.

She rubbed her ankle and said, "Mr. Cheney, I can’t walk anymore. I’ve walked a lot today, been delivering documents to various departments all afternoon."

"What does your inability to walk have to do with me, hmm?" Sylvan Cheney stopped and t ...

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