My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 80: [ - - 72] - 25 Million Dollars for the MeatBall

Chapter - 72

Inside a private room somewhere in some bar. Expensive bottles were lined on the table, but remained untouched. An expensive, thick, fur carpet covered the floor, and a faint smell of cigar smoke floated in the air.

At the center of the room sat a young man. He looked no older than 35 or 40 years old. The man wore a sharp, custom-fit navy-blue suit with a deep maroon tie. He even had a golden watch on his wrist.

His hair was styled slick. He was clean-shaved, flaunting his smooth jawline. He looked like a businessman from Wall Street.

But everyone in the room knew who he was, he was no ordinary businessman. Under the garb of this gentleman appearance, he ran one of the biggest underground networks in the city.

He leaned forward on the leather couch, tapping the glass table with his fingers. He was clearly not happy right now. And since he was not happy, no one in the room could be happy.

"Three months in a row," he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper, "Revenue’s dipped again. We are down ten percent on the gambling houses. Bars ain’t pulling the crowds."

"And I don’t need to tell you boys the coke runs have been sloppy." The man put the file in his hand aside and looked at the three men in front of him, "Are you telling me there are no drug addicts in this city anymore?"

"But that is not possible."

"So, either you guys are siphoning money off me."

"Or you guys are ceding ground to others."

The three men standing in front of him, two Black and one White, wiped off the sweat from their faces.

The white guy had dirty blonde hair slicked back with cheap gel and a beer gut under his loose brown hoodie. He had gold rings on every finger, and his thick neck was thick with gold chains.

The two Black guys were cut from the same cloth as well. One had a scar under his left eye and gold grillz shone when he smiled. While the other wore a sleeveless jacket, arms full of tattoos.

Both had heavy chains, wristbands, and jeans hanging too low.

Each one of them ran a part of the dirty empire for the man. Bars. Gambling. Drugs. Girls. Weapons. Protection.

"We ain’t the feds, boss," the White guy muttered. "We don’t run numbers clean. Dips happen sometimes."

The man in the suit raised a hand, and the white guy went shut, "I didn’t ask for excuses, Marty. I asked why."

"And I can deal with your bar and gambling business. But everything else?"

"Girls, Drugs, Weapons... If your customer is not satisfied. It is not about reviews no more."

"I don’t care what you do. But if the quota is not fulfilled in the next shipment. Your heads will be rolling, and someone else will take your place."

But before Marty or the others could reply, the man’s phone lit up on the table.

With the corner of his eyes he looked at and the name Rauf flashed on the screen.

He frowned, ’What the hell does that idiot want now?’ The man let it ring once... twice... thrice before he finally picked it up.

"What do you want?"

But the voice on the other end wasn’t Rauf’s as he expected.

"You must be the big brother," said a calm, slow voice, "I heard a lot about you, Imran, right?"

His frown deepened. He sat up straighter, "Who are you?"

"Totally out of syllabus, not important at all," the voice replied smoothly, with a slight chuckle, "What’s important is what I got."

And then there was a pause.

"Alright... I will play along. What do you got?"

"Smart man, At least smarter than the meatball," the caller said.

"Getting straight to the point. I like that..." A pause, "You might have already guessed it, but I have got your brother."

Imran’s jaw clenched, His eyes narrowed, he had expected something like this, but....

"You better not be joking."

"Do I sound like I am joking?" the voice replied, "I mean, I would love to say he’s chilling with a drink in his hand, but nah. The meatball’s tied up. Looks like a sack of bruises."

Imran exhaled slowly through his nose, "You know who we are?"

"Why else would I kidnap Rauf, huh? I am not stupid. I know exactly what I’m doing."

Imran leaned back on the couch, resting his head against the backrest.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Twenty million."

Silence.

"That’s a hell of a price tag for that good for nothing meatball."

"He is your meatball. Not mine."

Imran sighed, "We both know Rauf ain’t worth twenty."

"Oh? Then I guess you won’t mind if I start sending pieces back. A finger for every hour late. Let’s say... starting from his left hand."

Imran gritted his teeth.

"You are bold."

"And you don’t want to lose face in the market."

"Fifteen million."

"Twenty-one. Thanks for trying."

Imran rubbed his forehead.

"You raising the price now?"

"You made me talk more than I planned. Words are expensive these days."

Imran narrowed his eyes, "Eighteen. Final."

"Twenty-two. I don’t do discounts, boss man."

Imran stood up, and started pacing in the room, "Twenty and no more."

"Twenty-three. Stop lowballing, you are embarrassing us both."

The others in the room stared in confusion, not knowing what was going on, just hearing one side of the call.

"Twenty. This is what you asked for. Let’s close it."

"Mmm. Nah. Now I am thinking twenty-four sounds better."

Imran’s jaw ticked, "You are just messing with me now."

"Just keeping it spicy, man," The voice on the other side chuckled, "And with that the price is now Twenty-five Million."

Imran stared at the phone, and took a deep breath, "Twenty-five. That’s it."

The voice on the other end laughed softly "Now we are talking. Twenty-five million. You give them to me, and I drop your brother back in one piece. Mostly. Pinky promise."

"...Where do you want me to send the money?" Imran asked.

"I will text you. You will bring it. Alone. Or next time you hear from me, it won’t be a call."

Click.

And the call ended. Imran lowered the phone and stared at the screen.

His men looked at him.

"Boss? Is there something wrong?" Freddie asked through his shiny teeth.

He exhaled, slowly.

"Get me twenty-five million. Someone’s playing a dangerous game."

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The scene shifted back to the warehouse where Lucius had just ended the call.

Now that everything was set, he leaned back in the plush, throne-like chair Rauf had been sweating on earlier. The poor chair creaked under him, but it felt good, actually better than good now that he was going to get 25 Million dollars richer.

And in front of him, on the dusty warehouse floor, Rauf knelt like a pig tied up for its slaughter. Rauf’s bloated arms were strapped tight behind his back with his own whip.

The long leather whip with thorns on it looped clumsily around his fat chest and belly. The man who once looked ridiculously fat, but neat, now looked ridiculously fat and disgusting.

Sweat dripped from his face, and his perfectly combed hair were now a sticky mess. And when he saw Lucius end the call, his lips trembled as he spoke.

"W-What did he say?" Rauf asked, his voice cracked with fear, "Is my brother paying? H-He will, right? He is rich. He will surely pay... He won’t leave me... Right?"

Lucius didn’t answer immediately. He just looked at him. No, he was trying to look through him.

Then he tilted his head to the side, a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

"You know," he said slowly, "You and your brother... You are like night and day."

"He is someone with a decent enough brain, a smart mouth and a strong voice. And then there’s you..."

"Crying, sweating, begging. Fucking disgusting, an insult to your family name."

Rauf’s face turned red with shame, as he heard Lucius and looked away.

Lucius stood up, adjusting his clothes. His voice was calm, "But good news for you. He’s paying. But not for you. He’s paying to keep it shushh..."

Rauf looked up, confused, "W-What?"

But Lucius didn’t bother replying.

[Twenty-five million dollars for one meatball? That’s a steal. But what now, Master?]

[Are we letting him go after this? That’s so boring. Shouldn’t we rough him up some more? Maybe leave him with a hand or leg less?]

Lucius rolled his eyes, "Relax," he replied inside his head, "I have got this under control."

[You have been saying this all along, not explaining me anything.]

"Yeah. And it worked out perfectly, didn’t it?"

But before the System could reply again, Lucius’s phone buzzed.

He pulled it out and saw an unknown number flashing across the screen.

Lucius raised a brow. He answered casually, "Hello?"

"Lucius?" A hesitant, unsure voice came from the other side.

"Elena?" Lucius spoke.

"Hmmm..."

"Calling me this late? Missing me already?" Lucius joked with her.

But despite Lucius sounding fine, Her voice was soft but guilty, "Lucius... I’m really sorry. About my father. The way he spoke to you earlier... it was wrong. I didn’t know he would go that far."

Lucius chuckled.

"Oh my dear Elena. Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I should thank your dad."

Elena sounded surprised, "What? Thank my dad?"

Lucius looked down at Rauf, still tied up on the ground like a sad, overcooked sausage. He smiled.

"Yeah. Because of him, I made a new friend. A very rich one." Lucius said it with a grin, making sure Rauf heard every word.

Elena hesitated, "Rich friend? What do you mean?"

Lucius didn’t answer directly, "Let’s just say... I have landed myself a life-changing investment. This one deal is gonna flip everything."

Elena’s voice rose with curiosity, "Wait... What? What investment? Who is your rich friend? Tell me more..."

Lucius smirked and cut her off, "Well, you know him, actually. I will tell you more when we meet next."

And just like that, he ended the call. But the phone barely had time to go dark before it buzzed again.

Lucius checked the screen. And this time it was Iris.

He picked up with a sly smile, "Didn’t expect a second check-up call tonight."

Her voice was calm. A little cold, "Why was your phone busy?"

Lucius stretched his arms, "Had an important Business matter to take care of. But you sound possessive."

"Oh..." She paused, trying to sound like she didn’t care, "Are you staying out all night?"

Lucius grinned, "Why? Missing me?"

There was silence on the other end. Then she replied, "Tch. Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to know if I needed to have someone feed you."

He laughed softly, "Relax. I will come back. Might be late, though. I am catching up with a friend of mine."

Iris asked, "Who’s this ’friend’ you are doing business with?"

Lucius smiled wider, staring down at Rauf’s helpless face, "A rich-ass meatball."

There was a long pause on the line, "Can you ever... Ever answer me straight," Iris finally said.

"Not before you answer things first, " And Lucius ended the cal.

Then he slipped his phone into his pocket, stepped forward, and looked down at Rauf.

"Alright, moneybag," he said with a lazy grin, "Time to move. We have got a ransom to collect..."

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