Master of Lust

Chapter - 241

Rick leaned in, his voice a dark whisper that cut through the tension like a knife. "You think you are the first wannabe tough guy I have put in his place? Spare me."

"Now you might want to reconsider your life choices—because I am going to make sure you regret every single one of them."

He stepped closer, his eyes cold and unyielding. "You see, I don't just deal with problems; I eliminate them. Permanently. I gave you the chance to back off. But you missed that chance. Now, I will dismantle everything you hold dear, piece by piece, until there is nothing left but your shattered body, waiting for that final blow."

Graves shot a desperate glance at Zack before turning back to Rick. He tried to twist his wrist free, but Rick's hold was like a vice. He attempted to pull away using brute strength, but nothing worked. Rick's smirk only grew wider, more mocking.

"Come on, Graves," Rick said, his tone almost patronizing. "Is this the best you can do? I expected more from Zack's 'enforcer'."

"Look at those puppy eyes. The poor lad is hoping, cheering for you to win."

Graves, feeling the sting of humiliation, grew desperate. He suddenly lashed out with his free hand, aiming a punch at Rick's face. Rick easily ducked, his smirk never faltering. "Missed me," Rick sing-songed, his taunt infuriating Graves even more.

With a growl of frustration, Graves tried to kick Rick in the groin. Rick anticipated the move, stepping back just in time. "Really? Going for the low blows now?" Rick laughed, shaking his head. "That's pretty cheap, even for you."

Graves' face turned an even deeper shade of red. He lunged at Rick, swinging wildly. Rick let go of Graves' wrist and began to dodge effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. It was almost like a dance, with Graves stumbling and flailing while Rick sidestepped and parried every attack.

"Come on, old man," Rick said, his voice laced with amusement. "Is that all you got?"

Graves was growing more desperate with each passing second. He threw punch after punch, but Rick evaded them all, barely breaking a sweat. The old man tried a series of quick jabs, but Rick easily blocked them with his forearms. Graves' breathing became labored, and his movements slowed, but Rick remained unperturbed.

"You know," Rick said casually, ducking under another wild swing, "you might want to consider retiring. You're really not up to this anymore."

Graves, driven by a mix of rage and desperation, let out a roar and charged at Rick, aiming a powerful punch at his head. Rick caught Graves' fist in mid-air, twisting it around and using the momentum to flip Graves over his shoulder. The old man landed on his back with a thud, gasping for breath.

Zack watched, his face a mask of fury and disbelief. "Graves, get up! Don't let him beat you!"

Rick held Old Man Graves' hand in a vice-like grip, his mocking smirk growing wider. "What's the matter, old man? Losing your touch?"

Graves gritted his teeth, his face a mask of barely contained rage. "You arrogant little punk. You have no idea who you're dealing with."

Rick chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, I think I do. You're just another washed-up enforcer trying to relive the glory days. Face it, you're past your prime."

On the side-line, Zack's face contorted with anger. "Graves, don't let him talk to you like that! Fight back!"

Graves, feeling the pressure, tried to wrench his hand free, but Rick's grip was unyielding. "You think you're so tough, don't you?" Graves spat, his eyes narrowing.

Rick's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Tougher than you, that's for sure."

Desperate, Graves attempted to twist and pull his hand away, but Rick's hold was ironclad. The mocking smirk never left Rick's face, adding to Graves' humiliation. Zack's frustration grew as he watched his hired muscle struggle against Rick.

"Come on, Graves! Stop messing around and take him down!" Zack shouted; his voice tinged with panic.

Graves, now desperate, attempted a dirty move. With a quick motion, he aimed a kick at Rick's groin, hoping to catch him off guard. But Rick was ready. He shifted slightly, dodging the kick, and taunted, "Resorting to cheap shots now? That's low, even for you." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Graves' face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He pulled back, preparing for another assault. Rick released his grip, stepping back with a relaxed posture, ready for what came next.

The two men circled each other, the tension in the room palpable. Graves lunged at Rick, throwing a series of punches. Rick dodged effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. Each time Graves struck out, Rick evaded with ease, his smirk never faltering.

"Is that all you've got, old man? I expected more," Rick taunted, sidestepping another punch.

Graves growled in frustration, his attacks growing more frantic. "You little bastard! Stand still and fight like a man!"

Rick laughed, ducking under a wild swing. "Why would I do that? Watching you flail around is way more entertaining."

Zack, watching the fight with growing agitation, yelled, "Graves, stop playing around! Take him down already!"

Graves' desperation was evident. He threw a wild punch, but Rick caught his arm and twisted it, forcing Graves to his knees. Rick leaned in close, his voice a low whisper. "You're outmatched, Graves. Just give up."

With a surge of determination, Graves tried to break free, but Rick's hold was too strong. Rick shoved him back, sending him sprawling to the floor. Graves scrambled to his feet, his breathing heavy and laboured.

"Come on, old man. I'm just getting warmed up," Rick said, his tone mocking.

Graves charged at Rick, his fists flying. Rick danced around him, dodging and blocking with ease. Each missed punch seemed to sap more of Graves' strength, while Rick remained fresh and unbothered.

"You know, for all the hype, you're pretty disappointing," Rick said, catching Graves' wrist mid-punch and twisting it painfully.

Graves cried out in pain, but Rick showed no mercy. He pushed Graves back, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. Graves regained his balance, panting and sweating.

"This ends now!" Graves roared, launching himself at Rick with all his remaining strength.

Rick sidestepped easily, letting Graves crash into the wall behind him. The old man grunted in pain, sliding down to the floor. Rick stood over him, shaking his head. "You're done, Graves. Stay down."

Graves tried to push himself up, his trembling hands pressing against the cold, unforgiving floor. His muscles screamed in protest, the pain radiating through his battered body. He could barely lift his chest off the ground, his arms shaking under the strain. With a determined grunt, he attempted to rise, but halfway through, his strength gave out, and he collapsed back down with a thud.

The taste of defeat was bitter in his mouth, more so than the blood on his tongue.

Rick turned to Zack, who looked pale and shaken. "Looks like your bodyguard isn't much help after all."

Zack's face twisted with fury. Panic began to take hold of him as he watched Graves, his last line of defence, crumble under Rick's relentless assault.

Graves lay on the floor, every breath a reminder of the pain coursing through his body. The humiliation was almost unbearable, but what gnawed at him more was the weight of his failure—he had disobeyed Zach's father's explicit orders.

As the realization sank in, it felt like salt being rubbed into his wounds. The gravity of his mistake hit him like a sledgehammer. If word got back to Zach's father, the consequences would be dire. He had failed in his duty, not just to Zach, but to the man who trusted him to be the protector.

With great effort, Graves lifted his head, his vision blurred and his voice weak. "Sorry... Master," he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've failed you... and disobeyed your father. When he hears of this..."

Before Graves could finish his sentence, Zach interrupted him. "Don't worry, Graves," he said, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at Rick. "If we finish Rick here, once and for all, it won't be a problem. My father won't need to know what happened, and you won't have to fear his anger. We just need to take care of him, right here, right now."

Zack quickly pulls out his phone and sends message for reinforcement.

Rick, completely unaware of Zack's actions, continued to mock Graves as he lay defeated on the floor. "You should take him and leave before things get any worse," Rick said with a casual grin.

Zack hesitated, glaring at Rick with pure hatred but still holding his phone close. He knew he had no choice but to stall for time until his reinforcements arrived. "Graves, get up. We're not done here."

Graves struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on Zack for support. Together, they stumbled but did not move towards the door as Rick expected. Instead, Zack kept them standing there, biding time.

Ignoring them Rick walked over to the kitchen, grabbing another beer. He took a long drink, savouring the cold liquid. He knew he had to stay sharp, stay one step ahead. The game was far from over, and he was in it to win.

As he sat down, his phone buzzed with a message from Jemimah. "Are you okay? I heard some things... I'm worried about you."

Rick quickly typed a response. "I'm fine. Just dealing with some stuff. Don't worry, I'll handle it. We should talk soon."

He hit send and leaned back. "Get out of here quickly! Or are you too embarrassed to go back to you Daddy?"

But before Zack could respond, the apartment door suddenly burst open. Zack's reinforcements—several large, menacing henchmen—stood there, ready for a fight.