The bound man sobbed, his body shaking violently. "Y-yes! I'll talk, I'll talk! Just please, stop this torture!" His voice cracked with desperation. "I have kids! A wife! Please, just let me go home to them!"
Lucas let out a slow, unimpressed sigh. Then—without warning—he drove his foot into the man's face.
A sickening crack echoed through the warehouse as blood splattered across the dirty floor. The man howled in agony, writhing on the ground, but Lucas barely looked fazed. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, glancing down at his sleek, polished shoe now stained red.
"Great," he muttered, shaking his head. "Pig's blood on my shoes."
Jasmine slapped a hand over her mouth, her whole body frozen behind the crates. This wasn't the Lucas she knew. This wasn't the man who had once saved her from those bullies.
Who was he?
Lucas crouched down, grabbing the man's bloodied face in a vice-like grip. His voice was deceptively soft, almost mocking.
"Then start talking, piggy."
The man coughed, struggling for breath. His swollen eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for mercy where there was none. "It was—it was a rival company!" he blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. "They—they paid me seventy million to sell that deal! Please! If you let me go, I'll return the money! Every cent! Just—just don't kill me!"
Lucas hummed, tilting his head as if considering the offer.
Jasmine's heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst.
What was he going to do?
Lucas grinned, the eerie expression sending a shiver down Jasmine's spine.
"See? If you had told me all this earlier," he mused, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve, "I would have let you keep your fingers. Then you could go home, finger your wife, hug your kids, help them with their homework... you know, like a good family man."
The bound man sniffled, his face streaked with blood and tears. "T-thank you… thank you," he stammered, relief washing over him.
"I love that you're cooperating."
Encouraged by Lucas's seemingly merciful tone, the man nodded eagerly. He rushed to give up everything—names, addresses, the exact details of the transaction. It spilled from his lips like a confession to a priest, desperate, breathless.
Lucas listened, nodding along as if he were truly pleased. When the man finally finished, panting from exhaustion, Lucas straightened up and smiled.
"Good." He reached into his suit jacket. "Thank you for your honesty."
The man swallowed hard. "S-so… I can go?"
Lucas tilted his head, amusement dancing in his icy gaze. "Of course."
The man sagged with relief, exhaling shakily. But before he could process anything—
BANG.
Jasmine barely held in her scream.
The man's head exploded, blood and brain matter splattering against the warehouse floor. His body slumped forward, twitching once before going completely still.
Jasmine clamped a hand over her mouth, her entire body shaking.
Lucas exhaled, lowering the gun. "I did say you'd be free to go," he muttered, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I never said in what condition."
Jasmine felt lightheaded, her stomach twisting violently.
Lucas clicked his tongue in annoyance, glancing down at the blood splattered across his expensive suit. With a deep sigh, he muttered, "Fuck. I got pig's blood on my clothes."
He turned to one of his men, who had been standing silently nearby. "Get rid of this mess. And bring me a clean jacket."
Jasmine, still crouched behind the crates, could barely breathe. The way he spoke, so casual, so indifferent—it was like he had just stepped in a puddle rather than blown a man's head off.
Her heart pounded so hard she was afraid someone would hear it. She needed to get out of there.To her absolute horror, Lucas suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a blade.
"Now that that's settled… little mouse, come out and play."