Camila comes in

Camila entered the room, her eyes locked onto Lydia as she held the phone in her hand. "Should I call them?" she asked.

"That depends, Lydia," John said, his voice dripping with malice as he gazed down at her, his eyes lingering on the buttons she was struggling to undo. "Do you want her to call the cops, or do you want to make an arrangement?"

Lydia's eyes darted up to meet John's, a **** plea for mercy written across her face. "I'll do anything, John," she slurred, her voice trembling as she tugged at the buttons, her fingers fumbling with the task. "Just please, don't call the police."

John's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned in closer to Lydia.

"Strip," John ordered, his voice low and menacing as he loomed over Lydia, his eyes fixed on her trembling fingers.

Lydia's eyes darted up to meet John's, a **** plea for mercy written across her face, but she knew she had ****. With a quivering hand, she began to undo the buttons on her shirt, her fingers fumbling with the task as she struggled to maintain her composure. The sound of the buttons popping open echoed through the room, and Lydia's eyes locked onto John's, her gaze pleading for him to stop this, but John's expression remained unyielding.

As the last button came undone, Lydia's shirt fell open, revealing her bare skin beneath.

Lydia's body was a sight to behold. Her skin was pale and flawless, with just a hint of a tan from the summer sun. Her curves were lush and inviting, drawing John's gaze as she undid the buttons on her shirt. He could see the outline of her bikini, and his breath hitched as he imagined what lay beneath.

"Hurry up, Lydia," John said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't have all day."

Lydia's hands shook as she slipped off her shirt, revealing her perky breasts encased in the delicate bikini.