Chapter 175: Let's elope

“I'm just a guy craving your intimacy. You know what I mean right?”

“Do I know you?" Lucas asked as his eyes pierced the masked man’s.

“Maybe, maybe you don't.”

He leaned in towards his ears. “Come on, darling, it doesn't matter” he whispered, voice still distorted. “We’re all alone. Let’s make the best of it, Hmm?”

His voice dropped as he leaned in, teeth grazing Lucas’s ear.

Lucas flinched hard, his body jerking against the restraints. “Ouch, what the hell is wrong with you? Get off me!”

A low, frustrated growl escaped Zenith. “No. I want you. Don’t you get it?”

He moved behind him, circling like a predator, his presence suffocating.

“You don’t want me to get rough, or do you?” he murmured, bending down to Lucas’s level again.

Before Lucas could react, Zenith’s lips brushed against his neck, too close, too invasive, while his hand slid across Lucas’s chest, trailing downward.

Lucas’s stomach twisted in disgust. “You’re sick,” he spat, struggling against the ropes. “Get your damn hands off me!”

But Zenith didn’t stop.

If anything, his grip tightened, his touch more forceful now as his hand moved lower.

“There’s nothing sick about this,” he muttered, voice edged with obsession. “I’ve wanted you for too long to just walk away now.”

Lucas’s breathing turned uneven, not from fear alone, but from rising anger.

“I said stop…!”

Zenith moved back around to face him, his eyes darker now, something unhinged flickering in them.

“Relax,” he said coldly.

Before Lucas could react agaìn, he grabbed Lucas’s face and crashed his lips against his. It wasn’t a kiss. It was forced and controlled.

Lucas’s eyes flashed with fury. Without hesitation, he jerked backward and slammed his forehead straight into Zenith’s nose.

“Gaddamn it,” Zenith staggered back instantly,  clutching his nose as pain shot through him.

“Damn it, you broke my fucking nose!”

Lucas glared at him, chest heaving, eyes blazing with defiance.

“Next time,” he said coldly, “I’ll aim worse.”

Zenith straightened slowly, one hand still pressed to his nose, eyes burning as he glared at Lucas.

Lucas didn’t back down.

He met that glare head-on, fury blazing despite the position he was in.

“I told you,” Lucas snapped, his voice sharp and unyielding. “I don’t want to have fun.”

For a split second, silence stretched between them.

Then, smack!

The sound echoed harshly through the room as Zenith’s hand connected with Lucas’s cheek.

Lucas’s head snapped to the side, a sharp sting spreading across his face.

“Shut the fuck up,” Zenith hissed, his voice no longer playful, but cold and dangerous. “You’re not in any position to reject me. Do you hear me?”

Lucas’s jaw tightened, his breathing uneven, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of looking broken.

Zenith scoffed, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. “I guess James has been pampering you too much.”

With a sharp exhale, he turned away, frustration radiating off him. He grabbed the chair roughly, dragging it backward until it hit one of the concrete pillars with a dull scrape.

Lucas’s pulse spiked.

“What the heck are you doing?” he demanded, fear crept into his voice despite himself.

Zenith didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he bent down, picking up a rope from the floor, testing its strength with a quick pull. Then he turned back.

“What does it look like, I'm doing?" he snapped, stepping forward.

Lucas instinctively tried to hop away with the chair, but there was nowhere to go.

Zenith dragged it back and grabbed his already bound arm. Then secured the rope tightly around his elbow, binding him more firmly to the pillar.

Lucas winced painfully. “Stop!”

He didn't stop, he tightened the rope. Then Zenith loosened the rope on his wrist and made him stand up with his back against the pillar.

“This position is better,” Zenith smirked beneath his mask.

“Gaddamn it, this is not fair!” Lucas’s voice cracked slightly now, pain slipping through the anger. “You’re hurting me!”

Zenith ignored him, looping the rope again, pulling it, taunting him with deliberate force.

“You won’t be overreacting again,” he muttered, securing the knot.

Lucas’s chest rose and fell rapidly, panic and pain mixing now.

“You’re going to get your money,” he said quickly, his tone shifting despite himself, desperation creeping in. “Just take it and leave me alone, please. Stop this madness.”

For a moment, Zenith paused.

His hand lingered on the rope, his breathing heavier than before.

Then slowly, he looked up at Lucas.

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

For a brief moment, Lucas thought he had gotten through to him.

Zenith had paused. His grip had loosened slightly.

Lucas’s breath hitched, a flicker of relief rising in his chest.

But then, Zenith gave out a low and amused, cruel chuckle.

“Come on, Lucas,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Just cooperate.”

Any hope Lucas had vanished instantly.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Zenith added, almost gently now.

His hand lifted, brushing over Lucas’s cheek, the same spot he had just struck him.

“Oh, my dear,” he murmured softly. “I’m sorry about this, okay?”

The sudden shift in tone felt wrong and unsettling.

“But I just need you to cooperate,” Zenith continued, his voice quieter, coaxing. “That’s all.”

Lucas stared at him, anger burning hot beneath the surface, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

He said nothing. After all, what could he say? His hands were bound with a rope. His body was restrained. And yet, his eyes refused to yield.

Zenith’s gaze lingered on him, drinking in every reaction, every flicker of resistance.

Then his hand moved again, sliding down, resting lightly against Lucas’s chest.

Lucas stiffened instantly.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Zenith muttered, almost to himself, his voice dropping lower.

Lucas’s stomach twisted.

“Don’t,” he started, but his voice came out strained.

Zenith leaned closer, eyes dark and intent. “How about this,” he said softly. “You forget about Alex.”

Lucas’s eyes snapped to him in surprise.

“And you come with me.”

A beat.

“Let’s just leave all this behind and elope.”

The words hung in the air, absurd, twisted, and dangerous.

Lucas let out a sharp, disbelieving breath. Even now as he stood in disbelief, there was something in the way Zenith spoke that made his chest tighten for a completely different reason.

It wasn't fear but something close to recognition.

Lucas narrowed his eyes, studying him harder now, pushing past the anger, past the helplessness.

Who are you really?

“Someone who wants you badly.”

The words landed heavily.

Lucas’s eyes narrowed instantly, locking onto the masked figure in front of him, his mind racing.

“I know you… don’t I?” he said, voice low, searching, pushing past the fear, and the anger.

Zenith tilted his head slightly, amused. “Well…” he drawled, stepping closer, his presence pressing in again. “What do you think, pretty one?”

His hand moved, slow, deliberate, tracing down Lucas’s chest as if he had all the time in the world.

Lucas’s body tensed instantly.

"Don't touch me,” he warned, but the words faltered as Zenith’s fingers hooked onto the first button of his shirt.

Pop.

“I want you badly. I just can't resist you.”