"Sir, sir, please spare me, I can't drink much..."
Kamila Zahir looked at the person in front of her, especially at Jasmine Yale, with plaintive eyes.
Her big eyes were filled with tears, as if she was on the brink of crying.
"Can't drink, huh? Even better!" Mr. Jameson chuckled deep in his throat.
He picked up a cup of alcohol and put it on Kamila's bikini.
"Come on, hold it tight. If the cup falls, I am not going to be gentle."
Everyone laughed aloud after his remark.
A look of fear crossed Kamila's face.
She clenched her chest tightly, afraid that the cup would fall off.
"Hmm, quite impressive," Mr. Jameson stood up. "Quite talented indeed."
He picked up another glass of beer and placed it atop Kamila's head.
"Hold it steady, don't let it fall."
Anxious and frightened, Kamila started to cry, "Sir... sir, it's going to fall. Can we do it differently?"
Her voice was filled with sobs.
Her small face looked pitiful in her sorrow.
