Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 484

Chapter 484: Jack’s Picking a Fight

"No. Makes it more meaningful." He looked at me, eyes slightly unfocused but expression serious. "Because we didn’t forget. Because you remembered this promise when you could’ve forgotten everything from before. Because we’re still us, even though everything changed."

Fuck. Drunk Tommy was hitting emotional buttons I wasn’t ready for.

"You’re still my best friend," he continued. "Even made me fucking rich, you did not hand me some thousands as your sidekicks but slapped me with millions!"

"Of course I did. That’s what friends do."

"No." He shook his head firmly. "That’s what best friends do. Real friends. The kind you keep forever because they remember who you were and help you stay that person even when everything else changes."

I felt that tightness in my chest again—emotion I didn’t have words for, gratitude and fear mixed together in ways that felt uncomfortable.

"Don’t get weird on me, Tommy."

"Too late. I’m drunk and emotional and profound. It’s a whole package deal." He raised his glass again. "To best friends who keep promises."

I clinked my glass against his. "To drunk philosophers with questionable tolerance."

"Fuck you, my tolerance is great."

"You’ve had three drinks and you’re already confessing feelings."

"That’s by design. Drunk me is emotionally intelligent." He took another drink, then suddenly stood up—swaying dangerously, catching himself on the bar. "You know what? Screw it. You know what we should do?"

"Sit back down before you fall?"

"NO. We should celebrate! Like, really celebrate!" His voice was getting louder, that drunk volume-control failure. "We should—we should buy everyone drinks! Show this place what we’re about!"

"Tommy, that’s a terrible idea—"

But he was already pulling out more money. Not just a few bills. A fucking bundle of hundreds held together with rubber band, probably three or four thousand dollars, pulled from his pocket like it was nothing.

"What matters is I can afford this!" He held up the bundle like trophy. "And you know what? Everyone here deserves to celebrate with us!"

"Tommy, seriously, this is a bad—"

But he was already moving, already committed, drunk confidence overriding every reasonable instinct.

He slammed his hand on the bar—not aggressive, just loud, attention-getting—and his voice carried across the noise somehow, cutting through music and conversation.

"YO! EVERYONE! LISTEN UP!"

The music didn’t stop—DJs didn’t stop for drunk customers—but attention shifted. Heads turned. Conversations paused. Even the strippers on stage slowed their routine, curious about the commotion.

I buried my face in my hands. "Oh god. Tommy, no—"

"NEXT ROUND ON ME!" Tommy shouted, voice carrying with drunk-person projection that defied physics. "EVERYONE! FREE DRINKS!"

He pulled the rubber band off the bundle—bills splaying slightly—and threw the entire thing on the bar.

It landed with a thump that seemed louder than it should, hundreds and fifties scattering across polished granite like paper promises that Lincoln Club was about to deliver.

The club fucking erupted.

Cheers. Screams. People rushing toward the bar from every direction. A stampede of celebration and greed and alcohol-fueled enthusiasm that made the floor literally vibrate.

Even the strippers stopped completely—mid-routine, mid-move—looking toward the source of free alcohol like sailors to a siren song. Because free money transcended everything, even professional obligation.

I kept my face buried in my arms on the bar, trying to become invisible, knowing it was futile because I had a generous drunk friend next to me and invisibility was no longer an option reality offered me.

"Give a sidekick a few millions and he thinks the world belongs to him."

There, by the pool tables in the gaming section, cue stick in hand and expression mixing amusement with pure contempt—Jack fucking Morrison.

"Because we all know who’s actually paying for those drinks. Who’s actually bank-rolling this little TECH performance."

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