Chapter 172: Miss, The Breasts Are Fake

Huh???

Is Sylvan Cheney really that sensitive?

Jasmine Yale was incredulous.

He's an old-timer, pretending to be a naive boy.

Jasmine Yale took liberties, unclasping Kamila Zahir's bra.

"This is what I want. Are you unwilling to give?"

Kamila Zahir's makeup was ruined by her tears, she pleaded in a distressed voice, "Please, don't undress me. Can you spare me some dignity? I still need to go out later."

Jasmine Yale prodded the gun at her head, "Oh, really?"

"No, no, no, don't... please, if you like it, just take it, take it…"

Kamila Zahir's pupils dilated with fear, panic, and confusion.

"I just like other people's things," Jasmine Yale smirked, "The things I snatch are the best."

"Yes, yes, yes."

Kamila Zahir dare not breathe, sweat formed on her back.

She trembled non-stop, not daring to look Jasmine Yale in the eye.

Jasmine Yale ignored her plea, took off her dress and bra without touching her body, and flung them into a nearby bin.