Butler Santana's breakfast suited her taste, and the house was tidied up spotlessly by him.
"Miss Yale, it's getting cold, remember to wear more clothes. This period, be extra cautious. You're frail and the doctor said you might have an early delivery," Butler Santana advised.
"I know. He takes great care of me. In winter, my hands and feet get cold, and every night he holds me as I sleep."
"What if Mr. Cheney isn't home?" Butler Santana chuckled.
"Then I'll have to sleep alone."
"It's just a few days, it will pass quickly."
Jasmine Yale enjoyed the omelette Butler Santana made. It was so delicious that she couldn't help but have a few more bites.
Sunlight filled the room, casting bright, shiny rays on the floor.
After breakfast, she specifically went to her room, opened the locked cabinet, and pulled out all the training ground documents given by Chale Cheney's master.
She photographed some of the documents and sent them to Frederick Owen.
