Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, the phone in Tharok’s hand started ringing.

Durnik paced behind his desk like a caged animal, the phone pressed hard against his ear. Every unanswered ring scraped against his already frayed nerves. The leaked videos were still open on his computer screen. Comments. Reposts. Laughing emojis.

His own voice moaning in the background of clips he never thought would leave his private chats.

The phone kept ringing.

"Pick up," he muttered.

Another ring.

His jaw tightened.

"Pick up the fucking phone."

Still nothing.

By the fifth ring, the last of his patience snapped.

"Can you fucking pick your call already?!" he shouted into the phone, even though no one had answered yet.

Finally, the line connected.

"Hello~" Tharok began.

"Motherfucker, why the hell don’t you pick up your phone when I call you?!" Durnik exploded before the other man could finish. "You think I have time to sit here listening to fucking ringing tones?!"

There was a short pause on the other end.

"I’m sorry, I was~"

"I don’t give a shit what you were doing," Durnik cut in, his voice sharp and shaking with anger. "There’s something I need handled, and I need it handled now. Not later. Not when you feel like it. Now."

Tharok sounded surprised by the intensity.

"What’s the rush? What happened?"

Durnik’s eyes flicked back to the computer screen. One of the leaked videos was still playing on mute, his own bare stomach and undersized cock on full display for thousands of strangers. Shame burned under his rage, but he forced it down. He wasn’t about to explain that part.

"I need a bitch taken care of," he said coldly. "I want her brought to me. Alive."

"Who?"

"I’ll send you the name and the location," Durnik snapped. "She’s the type that floats around in expensive Airbnbs and luxury rentals. She doesn’t sit still for long, but I know the kind of places she stays in. I’ve paid for enough of them."

Tharok tried to speak again. "If this is about~"

"I said I’ll send you the location," Durnik barked. "Capture her and bring her to me. Don’t ask me any more fucking questions. Don’t overthink it. Just do the job."

The authority in his voice was brittle, held together by pure anger.

"I want her delivered to my place. I’ll deal with her myself."

Before Tharok could push any further, Durnik ended the call.

For a moment he just stood there, chest rising and falling, the silence in the office pressing in around him. Then he opened the messaging app with stiff fingers, forwarded Gracie’s photo, and sent the last known address he had for her.

He stared at the screen after the message went through, eyes dark with humiliation and fury.

"She thinks she’s clever," he muttered under his breath. "She thinks she can embarrass me and walk away."

He set the phone down slowly.

"I’ll deal with that bitch personally."

Back in Lucas’s mansion, the atmosphere had finally settled after the chaos of the morning.

By the time Lucas finished the food the girls had pressured him into eating, the edge of urgency in him had settled into something calmer and more focused. He wiped his hands, pushed the chair back, and stood up from the dining table.

"Yes," Lucas said. "I won’t be gone long."

Debbie leaned against the counter, watching him.

"You’re really not going to tell us anything?"

Mia’s eyes followed him as he picked up his keys.

There was concern there, but also the quiet acceptance of someone who had already learned that pushing him never worked when his mind was set.

"I’ll be back soon," he said simply.

He walked out of the dining room before any of them could press further.

Outside, the morning light sat warm against the driveway. Lucas unlocked the sports car, slid into the driver’s seat, and entered the address Gracie had sent him. The engine came to life with a low, controlled growl. He pulled out of the compound without rushing, merging into the road with steady hands and a clear head.

This time, he didn’t drive recklessly.

There was no need for it.

His thoughts moved quietly as the city passed by the windows. Gracie was emotional, greedy, and easy to read once money entered the picture. That made her useful. The real target was still Durnik. If he handled her carefully, she could become the pressure point that forced the older man into a mistake.

The deeper he drove into the area she had marked, the more the surroundings began to change.

The streets widened. The noise of ordinary traffic faded. Rows of carefully maintained trees lined the road, and behind them rose modern buildings with clean glass fronts and private entrances. Everything about the district looked intentional ~ designed for people who paid for comfort, privacy, and appearance.

Tourists with money. Short-stay visitors who wanted luxury without permanence. It was the kind of place that looked quiet on the surface but ran on constant spending.

Lucas realized he had never paid much attention to this part of the city before. It wasn’t that it was hidden. It simply wasn’t relevant to him until now.

His own villa was quieter than this. More isolated. This place, on the other hand, carried a polished restlessness. Hotels. Serviced apartments. Exclusive lounges. Buildings designed less for living and more for temporary indulgence.

The navigation finally slowed him near a particularly striking Airbnb property.

It stood out even among the expensive surroundings. The front section was open and stylish, with a small bar visible near the entrance and warm lighting that made the whole place look more like a private entertainment lounge than a simple rental. Behind it rose the main building ~ clean lines, dark glass, and the kind of quiet luxury that announced itself without needing a sign.

Lucas pulled over and parked by the side of the road.

For a moment he sat in the car, eyes on the building, letting the last pieces of his approach settle into place. Then he stepped out, shut the door, and took out his phone.

He dialed Gracie’s number and lifted the phone to his ear.

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