2

After reading the message, Boma froze in shock, unable to believe her eyes. She stared at the note for a few more seconds before finally collecting herself.

For the first time, she keenly observed her surroundings. No one seemed to be paying her any particular attention.

She then closely examined the VIP section, separated by an elegant partition made of sturdy sticks intricately assembled to form a fence-like structure.

Attempting to gain a clear view of the area proved challenging as the partition stood about five feet high. Struggling to catch a glimpse, she hesitated to rise to her feet, aware that doing so would draw unwanted attention.

Quickly folding the note, she stashed it in her jeans pocket, her heart pounding.

Ignoring the warnings against venturing here, she had succumbed to foolish pride. Now, with reality hitting hard, she contemplated a timely departure.

Anxiously wary of being observed, she dialed her friend's number, hoping for a swift answer. Thankfully, her friend picked up promptly.

"Hilda," she said urgently, not waiting for Hilda to speak.

"What? Is everything alright?"

"Don't come to Dazzle Bar. I'm already on my way out. I'm sorry I came here."

"It's okay. I'm almost there already. You sound breathless. Are you okay?"

"Yes," Boma answered, rising to her feet.

Pretending the bar's music was interfering with the call, she carefully grabbed her bag and walked away from the table, heading towards the exit.

"I'll meet you outside the bar. I'm already walking out."

"Great. Okay. I'll meet you there."

Boma tried not to move furtively as she headed outside. Once on the terrace, she walked forward, avoiding the people trying to get into the bar and a couple of guys in rough dark jackets who were lingering outside. As she attempted to pass them, they subtly moved, trapping her between them.

Her heart thundered as both casually placed a hand on her shoulders, causing her to pause. She looked up at them, fear evident in her eyes.

The taller of the two, Phillip, possessed a rugged appearance that suited his age, which was around the same as Donovan's. His features were angular and slightly weathered, giving him a rough charm. Though there was an air of danger about him, it was tempered by a certain youthful attractiveness. Beside him stood Standfast, a bit shorter but no less imposing, with a sneer playing on his lips.

Standfast, around nineteen, had a more rugged demeanor compared to Phillip. His face, while not conventionally handsome, bore the marks of someone who had seen their fair share of trouble. He had a solid build, indicating a readiness for action rather than words. His eyes held a steely intensity, hinting at a volatile temperament kept in check only by Phillip's presence.

As Boma looked up at them, fear gripped her heart. She could feel the tension radiating from the two young men, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Unsure of what to do next, she searched for an escape route, her mind racing with thoughts of how she had landed herself in this predicament.

Seeing there was no way of escape, she decided to feign courage, raising her chin despite her fear.

"Let me go," she demanded, managing to meet their gazes.

"Our Point One wants to see you," Phillip calmly informed her.

The title Point One sent a chill down her spine, threatening to shake her facade of courage. Hilda had warned her that it was the title for fraternity leaders. As if realizing the depth of the danger she was in for the first time, she encouraged herself to remain steadfast.

"I don't want to see anyone. I am not interested," she said dismissively, hoping that her disinterest and confrontational attitude would drive them away. It was a slim hope, but she had to try.

"You can't leave without seeing him," Standfast informed her with the same calm tone, his gaze cold. "If you want to enjoy peace on this Island or campus, you better come with us now. He doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Intimidated by his threat, she lost her bravado.

"What do you want from me?" she whined, hearing the shakiness of her voice, knowing her vulnerability was now exposed.

"That's none of our concern," Phillip replied matter-of-factly.

"I will scream," Boma threatened, but immediately felt something cold and steely pressing firmly against her waist.

Looking down, she saw that it was a gun that Standfast was holding to her skin.

She froze, the hairs on her skin rising.

"Cooperate and you won't be hurt," Standfast informed her.

She nodded, left with no choice as she allowed them to lead her back into the bar. Once inside, they led her to the VIP section.

***

Seated in his designated spot, Donovan cast a glance at Rose, the confident and alluring girl beside him. With her tousled hair and subtle makeup, she exuded a casual charm that hinted at a carefree attitude towards life and relationships. Her stylish yet provocative attire underscored this, reflecting her willingness to embrace fleeting connections. Despite their casual fling, there was an undeniable attraction to Donovan that kept her coming back for more.

The VIP section remained solely occupied by him and his companions, a privilege he had secured through payment. For the night, it belonged to them alone. This arrangement suited him perfectly, offering the comfort and seclusion he preferred.

"You're done for the evening," he informed Rose.

"But the night just started," she protested.

"I don't care. Leave. Inform your Point One that we had a good time."

Sometimes, if he had issues with her Point One, she appeased Donovan with a girl, and most times Rose was sent. She seemed to relish the assignment, and Donovan didn't mind. She was hot and available. Somehow, he was beginning to find her frequent company better than having random girls.

"But we didn't," she argued, igniting his impatience.

"Tell her whatever you wish. Just get out before I lose my temper."

Rose swiftly got up from her seat as Boma and his associates entered the section.

Boma's breath caught in her throat as she observed the Point One, who occupied the grandest-looking chair in the VIP section. It was obvious who he was, based on his commanding position and presence.

She had anticipated encountering a figure resembling a stereotypical tough guy—rough, scarred, clad in baggy clothes, perhaps with a backward-worn baseball cap.

However, what she saw defied her expectations. Before her sat a tall, drop-dead gorgeous individual with mesmerizing light green eyes. His features were striking, boasting a firm chin, broad shoulders, and toned abs. Clad in dark fitted jeans and an equally dark short-sleeve shirt that revealed a tattoo of a butterfly, he exuded an aura of attractiveness that was undeniable.

Boma couldn't help but notice the dark slip-ons adorning his feet, each aspect of his attire contributing to an overall impression of darkness. His expression was daunting, living up to the reputation of a handsome devil, and now she found herself in his lair.

It was a shame that she admired his attractiveness even as her heart thundered with fear. Despite his handsome features, he was terrifying.

Donovan's eyes rested on the scared girl's face as her eyes managed to meet his for a few seconds before falling to the floor, then floating back up and resting on his chest.

The girl he had dismissed, Rose, eyed Boma from head to toe with disdain.

"Are you sending me away because of this girl?" she asked, pointing at Boma.

Donovan moved like a bolt of lightning, grabbing Rose's arm roughly, and making her wince.

"Get out," he ordered darkly, his cultured and rich voice low but unmistakable. "Do not make me hurt you, Rose. Understand?"

Boma lifted her gaze and watched the altercation, her heart pounding with fright.

Rose nodded, and Donovan released her roughly. She gave Boma one last derisive look before strutting out of the section.

Donovan took his seat again, and Boma, in her fear of him, carefully avoided his gaze.

"Please, I want to go home," she said, addressing Donovan without meeting his eyes. "I don't want any trouble."

Donovan gestured for his guys to step aside, and they did, leaving her alone with him. Feeling even more exposed, she hugged herself nervously.

"Please, I want to go home."

"Look at me," he said quietly, giving her a few seconds to gather courage and meet his gaze.

"You're in year one, right?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"What's your name?"

"Esther," she replied automatically. "Esther Titus."

"Hmm. What faculty are you in?"

"Science."

"What department?"

"Geology."

"So, you're a Geology student?"

"Yes."

He stared at her for a while, his gaze piercing. Her heart pounded in her chest.

"Are you a good girl?"

Taken aback by the question, she hesitated, dumbfounded.

"I asked you a question."

"I don't understand what..."

"Yes, or no?"

"I like to think that I am a good..."

"Yes, or no?"

"Yes."

"So why are you lying to me?"