Moreover, she was quite a troublemaker.
In the car, Jasmine Yale wouldn't stop causing a commotion.
One moment she was pounding on the windows, the next she was unbuckling her seatbelt, trying to grab the steering wheel.
Luckily, there was a decent hotel near the bar. It was a five-minute drive, and the owner promptly stopped the car.
"Miss Yale, give me your family's phone number, and I will call them," the owner stopped the car.
Jasmine Yale, holding her head, now refused to get out of the car, shaking her head. "I don't have family, my mom doesn't want me, and the baby doesn't want me either. You tell me, did I do something wrong? Otherwise, why wouldn't they want me? I miss them..."
"Ah!" The owner knew there was no reasoning with someone drunk. "Come on, let's get you to your room to rest."
Jasmine Yale's face was flushed, a faint trace of moisture lingering on her long eyelashes.
The inebriated Jasmine Yale was like a teenage girl, naive to the ways of the world.
