My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 47: [ - - 45.1] - Strip tease reward from Iris

Chapter - 45.1

Outside the club, Gopal waited behind the wheel, the engine purring softly. He was waiting for Lucius while enjoying some hardcore Eminem, grooving on the beats.

"Let go of my hand! I can walk," Iris slurred, trying to yank her hand free from Lucius’s grip as they walked out of the club.

Lucius didn’t even glance at her, "Just shut up and walk."

"Do you think I want to clean up after you? Where is the mature and sensible Iris from before?"

But she wasn’t even listening. She scratched at his arm with her nails, but Lucius didn’t let go. He kept walking, dragging her along—calm, firm, like a man pulling someone out of a fire.

Gopal’s eyes widened as they soon came into his sight. Lucius’s white shirt was soaked in blood— his knuckles raw and red, his face tight with fury. Iris stumbled beside him, heels wobbling, and the buttons of her shirt undone, her lipstick smeared like a drunk Picasso painting.

Gopal jumped out of the car, "Arre baap re... What the hell happened inside, sir? Looks like you fought a lion and brought back its ghost."

Lucius didn’t slow down, "No time. Quickly open the damn door."

"Yes, sir, of course, sir!" Gopal sprang into action, flinging the rear door open.

Lucius helped Iris in— despite her mumbling complaints— and gently pushed her back against the seat. She slumped there, blinking slowly, legs sprawled without grace. Lucius slid in next to her, slamming the door shut with a sharp thunk.

Gopal got behind the wheel and buckled in, "Sir... Should I take you to the hospital? I mean, your shirt’s redder than Holi colours."

"No. Hotel," Lucius said flatly, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Hotel it is," Gopal nodded, starting the car, "Remind me to get blood-proof seat covers next week."

Soon the air inside the car was thick with alcohol, sweat, and adrenaline. Iris turned to Lucius, blinking slowly, pupils huge. Her skirt had hiked up her thigh, her hair a total mess. She pouted dramatically.

"You ruined my night," she whined, dragging a finger slowly down his blood-covered arm, "I was having so much fun..."

Lucius didn’t answer. His jaw was set like concrete.

She slid closer, her thigh pressing against his, "You didn’t even let me dance. They weren’t doing anything that bad..."

Lucius turned to her, eyes sharp, "Don’t talk."

He placed a finger on her lips.

Iris giggled, eyes crossing slightly as she looked at his finger, "Oooh, bossy. You are getting bold."

There was a beat of silence.

Then she burst out laughing again, "You know... you looked dangerous inside. But it was like really fucking hot. Like a villain in a love story."

Lucius looked away, resting his head against the window.

"When you punched that guy— BAM— and then crushed the other one’s face— WOOOAAHHH," she cheered softly, mimicking his punches with little drunken jabs in the air, "It was like a live-action movie."

From the front, Gopal couldn’t help himself.

"Oh ho, this sounds juicy. I missed some real action," he said, grinning into the rearview mirror, "Sir, don’t mind me asking— but did you leave anyone alive in there, or should I alert the morgue?"

Lucius growled, "Gopal. Eyes on the road."

Gopal nodded solemnly, "Of course, sir. Driving like butter. Just making conversation. Very respectful." Gopal grinned.

"But honestly— if I was madam back there, I would be all over you right now. Full damsel in distress meets an angry knight in blood-stained armor."

Lucius sighed loudly, ’Does she feel the same way when I act like a douche?’ He thought.

And Gopal kept going.

"Sir, real talk— whatever you did tonight, it wasn’t a rescue. That was superhero entry type stuff. You know Marvel? I am a big fan. If they see you, they will cancel Iron Man."

Iris giggled again and leaned her head on Lucius’s shoulder, "He is not a superhero... He’s my possessive, grumpy, psycho knight. All mine."

Lucius stared straight ahead, praying for the ride to end.

Gopal grinned, "Aye aye, Psycho Knight and the Drunk Princess. I am already loving this film."

’What the Fuck!’ Lucius rolled his eyes and kept staring out the window. This night wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

"I am serious," Iris muttered, reaching out and fumbling for his hand again, "You didn’t even let me finish my drink. And that guy was just trying to keep me company."

"You surely weren’t saying this at the club," Lucius sarcastically retorted.

Iris gasped dramatically, then laid her head on his shoulder, lips brushing against the side of his neck, "You are sooo strong," she whispered, tracing the shape of his collarbone with her finger, "I like it."

Lucius didn’t respond. Iris was drunk and all over the place.

"Sleep," he said, voice low, warning clear.

But Iris was far from done.

She poked his chest, right where the blood had dried into his shirt, "You did that to impress me, didn’t you?" she giggled, "I am impressed."

From the front, Gopal grinned, unable to resist speaking, "Ohoho, sir, she is head over heels for you like Sakeena and you are her Tara Singh. Full action hero vibes, haan."

Lucius’s eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, "Drive. Fast," he narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, sir," Gopal said with a salute-like nod, stepping on the gas, "Turbo mode, launching now. Hold tight, Tara and Sakeena."

Silence settled after that— except for the occasional giggle or drunken murmur from Iris. Eventually, her energy fizzled out, and she slumped against Lucius, half-asleep, one leg flung carelessly over his lap.

Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to the hotel.

The moment the car stopped, Lucius opened the door and stepped out. He turned to the back, "Come on," he said, holding out a hand.

Iris opened one eye, blinked, and turned her head stubbornly, "Nooo. I don’t wanna..." she mumbled.

"You!" Lucius exhaled through his nose.

He stepped forward, leaned in, and without warning— scooped her up into his arms like a sack of potatoes. Iris squealed, then clung to his neck instinctively.

"Put me down, caveman!" she shrieked, kicking her legs in the air, "I can walk, you neanderthal!"

Lucius didn’t even look at her. He strode towards the hotel entrance, carrying her like a man on a mission.

Gopal leaned out the driver’s window, "Arre wah Sir! You must be watching a lot of Bollywood. Full filmy scene. Sir, lift her like this on the ’saat phere’ also, haan! And don’t forget to invite me," he called with a cheeky wink.

Lucius ignored him. He couldn’t even understand half of what he was saying.

Inside the hotel, the reception area fell into a stunned hush. The concierge froze. The receptionist’s mouth fell open at the sight of Lucius— blood-streaked shirt, stone-cold face, and a drunken, giggling girl in his arms.

"S-Sir... Are you okay?" the concierge stammered, half ready to duck.

Lucius didn’t even slow his pace, "Everything’s fine."

The receptionist stepped forward hesitantly, "Do we need to call... Doctor? Police?"

Iris, slurring cheerfully, waved her hand, "Nooo, no no— relax. He just beat up a bunch of losers," she said with a lopsided grin, "He’s like... My personal bouncer - slash - assistant - slash - badass boyfriend."

Lucius’s lips twitched— Badass Boyfriend?

"Really?" the receptionist asked, trying to process her words.

"Oh yeah," Iris nodded dramatically, "He beat all of them. Like— boom, boom, BAM," She mimed throwing punches in the air, almost hitting Lucius’s chin.

"Can you help me with the elevator?" Lucius turned towards a staff member.

A nervous bellboy hurried forward and pressed the elevator button, eyes on the floor like he was avoiding a demon.

Lucius stepped into the elevator with Iris in his arms. The doors closed behind them with a soft hiss.

Inside the lift, Iris murmured against his neck, voice soft, "You are warm..."

Lucius didn’t answer. He just stared at the floor number as it climbed. One hand around her back. The other soaked in dry blood. The metallic hum filled the silence, blending with the soft sounds of her breathing.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and Lucius stepped out, Iris still cradled in his arms. Her head rested against his chest, murmuring nonsense under her breath, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.

He walked down the quiet corridor to her room. When he reached the door, he shifted her slightly in his arms, lowering her just enough so her feet could touch the floor.

"Open it," he said, voice low and firm.

Iris giggled, swaying as she tried to steady herself, "Wait... Wait, I have got it..." she mumbled, digging through her purse with clumsy fingers, pulling out lipstick, a receipt, even a single hoop earring— before finally producing the key card.

"Aha!" she declared triumphantly, like she had just solved a riddle.

She slid the card into the lock. A soft click and the door opened.

Iris stepped inside with a dramatic twirl of her hips, humming to herself.

Lucius turned to leave without a word— but her hand caught his wrist.

"Where do you think you are going?"

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