“Do I really have to take it off?”
Inside the VIP suite, Zebulon Hughes and his crew had all arrived.
Naomi Gonzalez was there too, but that was hardly surprising.
Where there was Zebulon, there was Naomi.
Their families had been friends for generations, though Naomi's family had only moved up from the south four years ago.
And the moment she arrived in Tyra, she became Zebulon’s devoted follower. From high school through college, she spent four solid years by his side.
Her devotion to Zebulon is absolute. She follows his every word without hesitation, never disobeys, and would never consider leaving his side.
But tonight, hadn't Zebulon taken things a bit too far?
It was one of their regular get-togethers, and he’d brought another girl from school, acting all intimate with her right in front of Naomi, as if they were a couple. That much she could handle; he’d done it before.
The problem was when the girl complained that the game was boring and suggested Naomi strip.
What kind of twisted request was that?
How could he be so indifferent? Even among acquaintances, he'd just let her be exposed like that in front of everyone?
The suite fell silent.
Naomi stood up from the sofa. It was cold outside, so she was wearing a puffer jacket over a denim jacket, with a camisole underneath. The camisole had built-in padding, so she wasn't wearing a bra, but it was a v-neck. It was fine under the denim jacket, but if she took that off, she risked a wardrobe malfunction.
Naomi undid the buttons on her denim jacket, letting it slide halfway down her shoulders, revealing the smooth curve of one. Still, she couldn't help but look back and ask one more time.
The atmosphere was heavy, almost surreal.
Someone tried to smooth things over.
“Hey, it’s just a game, why get so serious? Zebulon, let’s just drop it, man!”
“Exactly, Naomi. Let’s not play with them. We can go sing karaoke,” Naomi’s best friend, Ophelia, said, her heart aching to see her so humiliated. She reached out to pull Naomi away.
Naomi didn’t move, her eyes fixed on the man lounging on the sofa across the room.
Zebulon had one arm around the girl he’d brought tonight and held a drink in his other hand. He didn’t even look at Naomi, just scoffed. “Can’t handle it? You should’ve said so earlier. If you had, Tiffany and I wouldn’t have wasted our time waiting. How boring.”
The message was clear: he was forcing her to do it.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
Naomi stopped resisting. She pulled her gaze away from Zebulon and shrugged off the denim jacket in a few swift movements.
For the sake of ambiance, the main lights in the suite were off, replaced by colorful mood lighting. But as fate would have it, the shifting lights seemed to converge on Naomi, making her look stunning.
After a moment of shock, the men in the room respectfully looked away. All except for the girl in Zebulon’s arms. The other girls bit their lips, a look of pity in their eyes.
Naomi paid them no mind. After taking off the jacket, she looked straight at Zebulon. “Satisfied? Or should I keep going?”
Zebulon finally deigned to look at her properly, his eyes simmering with a quiet rage. He said, “You’re pathetic, Naomi. Truly pathetic.”

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