Then, turning to the two men, he ordered, "You two, keep an eye out and make sure Mr. Ross' glass is never empty."
Oscar and Bruno exchanged knowing grins and quickly agreed.
Once the celebration banquet began, the atmosphere became lively. Toasts were made in my name, each one accompanied by the clinking of glasses and forced laughter. At first, I took a few sips out of courtesy, but before long, the alcohol began to take its toll, my vision swimming as dizziness settled over me like a heavy fog.
I tried to refuse the next drink, but before I could set the glass down, Tristan suddenly clamped a firm hand on my shoulder, his grip almost bruising. "Come on, Charlie! It's a celebration! Don't be a buzzkill."
Before I could protest, Oscar and Bruno moved in, each gripping one of my arms as they pried my mouth open.
"Before coming here, Mr. Ross said he's in a great mood. If anyone else wants to toast him, do it now—don't keep him waiting!" Tristan announced loudly, his voice filled with amusement.
Some of the attendees hesitated, uncertain about how far they should take things. Then, as if on cue, Zane stepped forward and poured a full glass of liquor into my mouth.