At the same time, she was stunned; she saw something all too familiar, a pack she'd sold a year ago.
She recognized the product she sold, naturally.
He hadn't finished using it?
Jasmine Yale casually flipped through it, so much left.
Was he not up to it?
She hadn't sold him much, and yet, after a year, such a tiny amount wasn't used up? Useless.
Or perhaps he didn't like wearing them? That's possible too...
Jasmine Yale sighed, so much left, such a waste. The quality was really good.
She couldn't remember how much she'd sold him, it almost seemed like he hadn't used any.
But it wasn't surprising, men rarely used them unless they absolutely had to.
Jasmine Yale didn't care anymore, she tore open his cigarette box and drew a cigarette.
She even found a lighter on the table!
Alcohol made her head throb, and amidst this uncontrollable intoxication, she lit the cigarette.
Smoke swirled around her, she frowned.
Disgusting.
