My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 57: [ - - 49.3] - The Endgame Begins

Chapter - 49.3

Lucius stepped out of the elevator, parcel in hand, his face half-shadowed by the low brim of a delivery cap. The scent of smoke and cologne lingered in the air.

The moment he stepped into the elevator, something snapped into him. The setting felt so familiar and the innocent, fun-loving guy was replaced.

As the elevator doors parted, he was greeted not by silence, but by two men flanking the lift. Both turned their heads at once.

Tall. Muscular. Suited.

One had his jacket slightly unbuttoned, hand resting far too close to the bulge under his arm—firearm, no doubt.

The other, leaner but sharp-eyed, frowned as his gaze zeroed in on Lucius’s face. Even with the cap and the mask, something about him didn’t sit right.

"Hold up," the leaner man said, stepping forward.

Lucius stopped in his tracks.

"Delivery," he muttered, holding up the cardboard towards the lean man.

"For which room?" the bigger one asked, tone suspicious.

Lucius’s eyes flicked between them, quickly calculating. He didn’t know which suite was Marcus’s, hadn’t been told. He was meant to find out, improvise.

But he didn’t have time to be subtle anymore.

"It’s a special delivery for Marcus Dorne. Sign on handoff," he said, trying to leave, "Either tell me his room, or let me go find it."

The big one stepped directly into his path, palm raised to stop him, "You need to..."

Lucius struck like a whip as he threw the box in the air.

The two men instinctively looked at the box and his foot came up fast and brutal, catching the big man in the groin.

As the man doubled over with a grunt, Lucius twisted his torso, spinning into the leaner guard. His elbow cracked into the man’s jaw with pinpoint precision, sending him reeling against the elevator frame.

The big man recovered quickly, hands going for Lucius’s shirt, but Lucius moved, not giving him any chance. He stepped in close, drove a knee into the man’s side, and followed with a sharp hammer-fist into his collarbone. A crunch. The man dropped to one knee.

Lucius grabbed the leaner man before he could draw his weapon, hooked an arm around his neck, and twisted savagely. A muffled snap followed. Deadweight.

The big man let out a roar and surged forward, but Lucius sidestepped and slammed the edge of his palm into the man’s throat. A choking gasp escaped as the man fell backward into the wall, trying to breathe. Lucius finished it with a brutal knee to the temple. Out cold.

Both bodies slumped against the elevator’s outer alcove. Lucius dragged them behind a decorative wooden screen and straightened, chest barely rising. Efficient. Silent.

Now came the harder part.

Three doors ahead, spaced along the curved corridor. He didn’t know which one was Marcus’s. No names on the doors. No numbers. EVerything was removed.

He moved forward, slowly as his eyes scanned for some signs. Another man was standing outside the other room, back to the wall, scrolling through his phone. Small earpiece in one ear. Private security posture. Lucius’s eyes narrowed.

He adjusted his grip on the box and strode up casually, gaze lowered.

"Delivery for Mr. Marcus," he murmured, as if bored, not slowing his pace.

The guard looked up, momentarily distracted, "Wrong roo—"

Too slow.

Lucius lunged.

He twisted on his left heel and drove his elbow straight into the man’s throat. The guard staggered, choking, eyes bulging as he dropped his phone.

Before the man could fall, Lucius grabbed his arm and yanked him sideways, slamming him into the wall with a thud. A quick punch to the temple ended the resistance. His body went limp.

Lucius scanned the hallway still empty. The floor was like a hallway with twists and turns. He dragged the unconscious man into a nearby alcove behind a tall decorative plant and adjusted his uniform again.

Walking a couple of more steps, he turned to his left. This was the final door on the floor.

The last guard was tall, and alert. His eyes were sharp and focused, arms folded. He didn’t slump. He didn’t scroll. This one was ready.

Lucius knew he couldn’t win a direct fight. At least not without injury. So he changed his tactic.

He let frustration color his movements. Stomped forward, shoulders tense, as if a courier at the end of a long, annoying shift.

"Marcus?" he barked, gesturing toward the door with the parcel, "Is that guy here?"

The man glanced at the box, one brow raising, then back to Lucius’s face, "He’s expecting you."

"But were you?" Lucius smirked—and flung the parcel like a feint, not aiming to hurt but to distract.

The guard’s hands came up instinctively to catch it—exactly what Lucius wanted.

That’s all Lucius needed.

He dropped into a crouch and swept his leg wide, hooking behind the man’s ankle. The move wasn’t strong enough to drop a man of that size, but it didn’t have to be. It just had to destabilize.

The guard’s balance broke. One foot staggered back to catch himself.

Lucius was already in motion, slipping behind like smoke. From beneath his jacket, his fingers closed around the slim grip of a collapsible stun baton, strapped to the man’s waist.

Click.

A hiss of electricity snapped through the quiet hall.

Lucius jammed it hard into the juncture between neck and shoulder, just under the ear.

The man convulsed violently, limbs locking for a heartbeat before he crashed sideways to the carpet, too stunned to even groan.

Lucius stepped back, chest rising slowly.

The body twitched once. Then went still.

He tucked the baton away, retrieved the box, and adjusted the tilt of his cap.

Lucius exhaled, picked up the box again, and approached the door.

He gave three gentle knocks.

Seconds passed.

The door opened.

A younger man stood there, maybe in his late twenties, slick hair, cocky expression. He was chewing something lazily. Maybe gum.

"Yeah?"

Lucius spoke tilting his head, "Special delivery."

The man glanced at the box, mildly curious, "What’s in it?"

"Why don’t you check it for yourself?" Lucius said as his left hand shot up, clamping hard around the man’s throat, and pushed him with force.

The young man let out a gasp and stumbled backward into the room, crashing into a leather armchair.

Lucius stepped inside, kicked the door shut behind him.

"Enough of the special delivery, Where is Marcus?"

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[Author’s Note: While you are at it. Don’t forget to keep an eye on the Auxiliary Chapters as well for extra information regarding the story.]