Fated love: the unwanted bride-Chapter 2135: Madam, Mr. Cheney Has Returned
The night gradually deepened.
Occasionally, a few people entered the reception room, and Jasmine Yale smiled to greet them.
But soon, the people who came in left again, never staying for long, from start to finish, she was the only one constantly sitting in the reception room.
Halfway through the magazine, Jasmine Yale fell asleep.
With the book beneath her hand, she drifted off on the table, half-asleep.
She was too tired; every long flight exhausted her greatly. She never got used to it, and the jet lag was always hard to adjust to.
In her palm, she held onto that small keychain.
Outside the window, the night was deepening. The autumn wind rustled the leaves, making the branches swish, and occasionally birds flew across the sky.
The young girl from the front desk almost couldn’t bear to wake her up, thinking, oh dear, falling asleep while pregnant, what if she catches a cold?
But she saw exhaustion written on Jasmine Yale’s face, with the dark circles unable to be covered by foundation.
The young girl approached gently and shook Jasmine Yale’s arm.
"Ma’am, Mr. Cheney is back."
Jasmine Yale didn’t wake up the first time.
The young girl from the front desk couldn’t bear it. This pregnant woman had been waiting here for a full four hours.
"Ma’am, Mr. Cheney is back."
This time, Jasmine Yale woke up.
She suddenly raised her head, rubbed her eyes, and looked blankly: "What?"
"Ma’am." The young girl smiled, "Weren’t you looking for Mr. Cheney? He’s back, just went upstairs."
"What time is it..."
"Ten thirty."
"So late, I’ve slept for so long, achoo." Jasmine Yale felt a bit cold, hugged her arms, and sneezed.
"Ma’am, be careful not to catch a cold, there’s no air conditioning here, and it’s a bit chilly at night."
"Thank you, I accidentally fell asleep." Jasmine Yale stood up, "Thank you, I’ll head upstairs now."
"You’re welcome."
Jasmine Yale hurriedly tidied up the insulated box and put the keychain into her pocket.
Sleepy and disoriented, her hairband had come loose, so she simply removed it and tucked it into her clothes pocket.
Pregnant, she couldn’t walk fast even if she wanted to, sneezing a few more times along the way.
Such carelessness, how did I just fall asleep.
The elevator stopped, and Jasmine Yale walked back to Sylvan Cheney’s apartment door.
At this point, the door was closed, and she smelled a hint of alcohol.
"Knock knock"—she knocked on the door.
No one responded.
"Knock knock"—she knocked twice more.
The knocking sound wasn’t loud, yet it sounded sharp and clear in the quiet corridor.
"President, it’s Jasmine Yale." She called out.
She knew he was home because she heard subtle noises from inside the apartment.
"President!"
Suddenly, the door opened.
Jasmine Yale steadied herself against the wall.
It wasn’t Sylvan Cheney who opened the door, but a young girl.
The young girl wore a black professional outfit, although her little suit jacket was taken off and thrown on the sofa in Sylvan Cheney’s apartment. Her youthful and pure face was flush red, and her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders.
Jasmine Yale blinked, feeling somewhat familiar, thinking, oh, it’s a colleague from the public relations department.
There were many colleagues, but she could remember the pretty ones at a glance.
The young girl’s face turned red: "Secretary Yale? I-I just sent the president back, don’t misunderstand, the president got drunk."
Jasmine Yale raised her head and glanced into the room, not seeing Sylvan Cheney but hearing the sound of the faucet in the bathroom.
"Secretary Yale... you-you won’t say anything right?" The young girl looked embarrassed, with a hint of shyness, nervously looking at Jasmine Yale.
