My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 45: [ - - 44.1] - Doing whatever you want, drags you into a mess

Chapter 45: [Chapter - 44.1] - Doing whatever you want, drags you into a mess

Chapter - 44.1

"You bitch—" one of the men snarled, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her back onto the stool.

"I tried to be nice," the man with the skull cap growled as he pressed his knee into her thigh as he leaned in close, breath hot and sour against her face, "But now you are just asking for it."

"Hey... Hey... Wait up you guys!"

Suddenly a voice interrupted them. It was completely out of place, breaking the intensity of the scene.

And all heads turned around towards the sound.

Lucius stepped forward from the shadows, his footsteps slow, trying to make an entry.

"Fuck. Who the hell is this whitey?" one of the thugs muttered, glancing at the man in the jacket.

Another one replied, squinting at Lucius, "No idea... But this jerk thinks he can play the hero here."

Lucius said nothing at first. He stood tall, eyes flicking from Iris, slumped, barely conscious, to the group of men hovering over her.

Then his gaze sharpened, "Hey, give her space, she is already blackout drunk." And saying so he looked at Iris.

"That girl, why does she drink like an alcoholic brat?" he murmured, then stepped toward her to carry her, but one of the men blocked his way.

"Hey!" he barked, "She is going out with us. You better back off."

Lucius gave him a casual glance, then smirked, "Trust me, brother— she is impossible to handle. She will chew you up and spit you out. Let me save you the trouble and take her home."

He stepped forward and gently pushed the guy aside— but before he could reach Iris, the skull caped man grabbed his wrist.

"We have got this. Walk away, or you will be crawling out of here pieces or laid here bleeding like shit."

Lucius yanked his hand free, his smile fading, "Look man, I am not in the mood to paint this place red with your blood. Let me walk out of here with her, and we all get to keep our teeth."

The skull cap man squared up, puffing his chest.

"Huh, you know who I am?" he stepped closer, "Do you even have a clue who my dad is?"

Lucius chuckled, "Why, didn’t your mom ever tell you who your real dad is?" he scoffed, "She must be a player, dude. Nice!"

Lucius’s words hit the man like a slap and the club went silent, all eyes at the man. Lucius shoved past him without another glance.

"Outta my way. I need to sleep more than I need to waste time on you clowns."

He reached for Iris’s hand, "Come on. Let’s go."

But Iris jerked her hand back, glaring at him through bleary eyes, "I don’t need your help, jerk. I can walk just fine."

Lucius grabbed her hand again, "Hurry up. This place is crawling with dumbasses. And you have spilled just enough booze and dignity to start a street festival."

But before Iris could stand up, the skull cap guy’s rage boiled over. With a snarl, he grabbed Lucius’s collar and yanked him back, then slammed a punch into his face.

Lucius staggered, blood trailing from his split lip. He wiped it with the back of his hand, then looked up with accusing eyes.

"Come on man... Why would you do that for?" Lucius asked as if he was wronged.

"Huh, you just crossed the line, motherfucker," the skull cap man growled, "You dare go against me? Rizwan Afridi? You must be dying to die."

And then Rizwan eyed his man, and before Lucius could react, he was kicked hard from behind, taking out his balance and Lucius stumbled forward, nearly falling.

Lucius stood straight, looking up slowly, a dry smirk forming, "Really? Kicks and punches? I mean, come on— can’t we be civil for once? Let’s talk with our mouths, shall we?"

"Why? Are you afraid of us, little white boy?" one of them said, moving towards him.

As he moved in to kick him in the chest, Lucius caught his leg mid-air, tight, unflinching.

"Don’t try your luck too much, dude," Lucius smirked.

... But just then, Rizwan snatched a whiskey bottle from the table and, without hesitation, smashed it over Lucius’s face from behind.

Smash!

Glass shattered. Lucius’ jaw got cut, and blood dripped.

Meanwhile, Iris struggled to her feet, legs shaking, "Lucius!" she cried, panic cutting through her drunken haze.

She stumbled toward him, but one of Rizwan’s men caught her arm, yanking her back, "Stay here."

"Leave me asshole," she screamed, trying to pull free, but he tightened his grip.

"Look at what you made me do, you bitch," Rizwan turned towards Iris and walked towards her, screaming, "We could have just had some good time. But no... You had to resist."

"Now how do you feel? I fucked up your little white boy. Are you happy now?" The skull cap man grabbed her by her arm and pulled her, forcing her to stumble along.

"Let me go!" Iris thrashed against his grip, her voice cutting through the noise.

She twisted violently, but she couldn’t pull away and with nothing left, she sank her teeth into his skin.

"Aghh—!" he roared, yanking his hand away. Blood trickled from the deep bite mark, her teeth imprint stark against his skin.

"You bitch—" he snarled and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Iris screamed, eyes wide in terror as his other hand lifted, about to strike her.

CRACK!

A wooden stool slammed against his wrist with brutal force.

His grip released instantly. Iris dropped to the floor.

All heads whipped around.

Lucius stood there, he stepped forward, "Is this how you treat your guests... What was it? Rizwan?" His head tilted slightly, blood dripping down the side of his face— but his eyes were no longer the same.

People turned to look. His eyes were cold. His steps were slow. But the air around him felt different— cold, heavy, dangerous.

He looked straight at the group of men standing near Iris.

His voice was quiet, steady, but it felt like a blade.

"If you want a fight," he said, rolling up his sleeves, "then let’s finish it now, bastard."

The whole club froze. The music still played, but no one moved.

Rizwan stared at him, his jaw tight, "Whoever brings me his head, I will give him a hundred grand," he barked.

One of the men stepped forward. He grabbed a full whiskey bottle from the table, smashed it hard against the edge— glass cracked and splintered, turning into a deadly weapon.

He smiled like a mad dog, then ran toward Lucius.

The sharp bottle came flying toward Lucius’s face— but just before it hit, Lucius’s hand shot up like lightning. He grabbed the man’s wrist in mid-air. The sharp glass stopped an inch from his eye.

Lucius didn’t blink. Didn’t even move his feet.

The man’s face twisted with effort as he tried to push the bottle down, but Lucius’s grip got tighter and tighter. His fingers dug into the man’s wrist like steel.

CRACK!!!

"Aaaggghhh!!!" The bone in the man’s wrist broke and he screamed in pain.

"Don’t cry like a big, bastard. Drop it," Lucius said, like he was asking someone to hand him the remote.

The bottle slipped from the man’s hand and shattered on the ground. And with that Lucius moved fast.

He drove his knee straight into the man’s stomach. The sound of the hit was loud and solid. The man gasped and bent over, eyes wide, all air knocked out.

Lucius grabbed him by the shirt and slammed his head down on the bar.

Once. Blood.

Twice. More blood.

Third time— his nose broke with a loud crunch. Blood sprayed across the counter like a fountain. A tooth flew out. His body went limp.

Lucius let go, and the man collapsed to the floor, face down in a pool of his own blood. He didn’t move.

Lucius stood tall, not even breathing hard.

The club was silent. People stared, frozen.

Someone whispered, "Holy shit..."

Looking at his man dropped dead on the floor, Rizwan was shaking with rage now, "You are dead," he spat, "You are fucking dead, you bastard."

But Lucius just stared at him, eyes like cold knives.

Then another one of them pulled a knife from his pocket. Click. The blade popped out fast.

He stepped forward, eyes full of hate, "You made a big mistake, motherfucker."

The blade arced through the air, fast and reckless. Lucius ducked, but not fast enough.

The knife tore through his shirt, slicing into the flesh of his arm. Blood welled up instantly, warm and dark, soaking through the fabric in seconds.

But Lucius didn’t flinch. His face remained stone-cold, like he didn’t feel anything. He kicked the man on the floor aside, taking a step towards him.

"What the fuck," the man murmured.

Before he could say another word, Lucius clenched his fist tightly and hooked it into the man’s ribs.

Thump.

The man groaned, doubling forward. Lucius caught him by the hair and drove his elbow straight into his nose.

Crack!

Cartilage gave way with a wet, satisfying snap. The man shrieked, hands flying to his face. Lucius wasn’t done now— he grabbed his neck and drove him backwards into a column—Bang.

Then again, Lucius grabbed his leg and twisted it hard, until the sound of bone shattering reached his ear.

Crack!

"Ahhhhhh," the man cried out, grabbing his broken leg.

The next lunged at Lucius, swinging a chair— Lucius ducked. He grabbed the knife that had been dropped earlier and snatched it up in a fluid, lethal motion.

The man raised the chair again, but Lucius lashed out a brutal kick to his wrist. The chair flew from his hands, crashing uselessly to the ground.

Then he slashed the blade across his chest. The blade flashed— clean, slicing across the man’s chest. A scream tore from his lungs as he staggered backward, hands flying to his bleeding chest.

Now only one is left, the last man— that skull cap bastard, Rizwan. His hands were trembling, yet still he was holding Iris’ wrist.

"Leave her!"

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