My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 83: [ - - 75] - Delivery for one Imran [Part-III]

Chapter - 75

Imran wanted to believe him, but Lucius’s extra confident and carefree attitude was bugging him.

So he decided not to think ahead too much. He took a slow step forward and asked, "Where’s my brother?"

Lucius smiled hearing his question. He raised one hand and gave a lazy wave toward the white van he came into.

Imran’s eyes followed the gesture and landed on the side of the van. For a moment, his face didn’t react. Then his lips twitched, and he gave a short laugh, dry and full of disbelief.

"Meatland Pork Deliveries?" Imran read the words aloud, "Really?"

He shook his head slowly, almost smiling, "You did it on purpose didn’t you?" He said, "You are a real piece of work."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, half-smiling, "Come on. You have to admit that’s funny."

Imran shook his head, "I am really curious what happened between you and my brother."

"Don’t worry. I am sure your brother will tell you everything."

Imran let the smile fade as his face turned serious, "Let’s not waste more time."

Lucius nodded once, "Good. Let’s not. Bring the money and take your little piggy home."

Imran pressed two fingers to the small earpiece in his right ear, "Farouq,"

"Bring the bags."

Farouq who has been in the car all this time finally stepped out of the car behind them.

Without any rush, he opened the trunk, pulled out the first two heavy duffel bags, and dropped them on the gravel between the two men. Then another two. Then two more. And so on and on.

In no time, twelve bags in total were placed between Lucius and Imran. All lined up neatly.

After placing all the bags, Farouq walked back and stood silently behind Imran, his hands resting by his sides but close to his waist, he was ready to draw his gun at any moment.

Imran nodded toward the bags, "Take the money. And bring me my brother."

But Lucius didn’t move to check the bags. He didn’t even glance at the bags. He just stood there with that same small smile on his lips, hands in his pant pockets.

"Why are you doing this?" Lucius asked softly, "I am disappointed."

Imran frowned, "Doing what?"

Lucius sighed, his tone calm and disappointed. It was like a teacher scolding a smart student, "Why are you making this harder than it needs to be? You could have just given me the money, taken your brother, and we would both go our ways."

"So Simple... No Mess."

Lucius tilted his head and his eyes locked on Imran’s face, "But no!"

"You had to play smart. You had to pull tricks with me. Did you really think so low of me?"

"Trackers in every bag. And... acting all cheap. You actually decided to cheat me of a million?"

Imran’s eyes narrowed. His fingers twitched near his belt. How did he know?

Lucius continued, shaking his head with a slight laugh, "You seriously want me to blow your head off, dump your useless brother in some drain and drive away with all of this?"

"That’s the game you are playing?"

Farouq shifted behind Imran, one hand moving toward his coat. Imran’s own hand moved toward the gun hidden at his side.

Imran’s brows turned into a frown as he asked, "What are you talking about? You are backing off from the deal?"

Hearing him, Lucius laughed, "I am backing off from the deal?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It’s you who wants to cheat me off a million, and track me using those trackers. Pull me into some alley and dispose of me."

Imran’s body stiffened. For the first time that night, real confusion flickered in his eyes.

He glanced down at the bags, then back up, "You didn’t even go near them. How would you know that?"

Lucius didn’t answer. Instead, he slowly raised one hand. Instantly, both Imran and Farouq pulled their guns out of their holsters, and pointed them at Lucius.

But Lucius only smiled wider.

"Easy now girls," he said smoothly, "I was just signaling my men. They might blow your heads off in confusion."

Farouq’s eyes swept the shadows. He didn’t move, but his posture changed. More alert. Tense.

Lucius looked at the guns and clicked his tongue, "Come on. Put those away. We are all friends here. Right?"

He placed a hand over his heart and spoke like he was genuinely hurt by Imrn’s actions.

"You don’t trust me, Imran? That really wounds me. Where’s the bro code between kidnappers and gangsters? We are all the same."

Imran and Farouq stared at him. Neither said a word. They could not guess what was going on in Luicus’s head. He was toying with them.

Lucius let the silence stretch. Then he gave a small shrug, "Fine," he said, "Let me be the big boy between the two of us."

"Don’t shoot them boys. They are my friends," Lucius spoke as if ordering someone through his earpiece, "At least for now," He whispered the last part.

Imran slowly holstered his weapon, and after a few seconds, he gave a short nod to Farouq, who did the same.

Lucius smiled again, softer now, almost playful.

"You know," he said, "I really liked you for a moment. I thought we were friends. But then you ruined it."

"But all those feelings. You crushed them in a second. Putting trackers in every bag? Missing a million? You hurt my feelings. You really did, Imran."

Imran exhaled, long and low, "Stop your acting. I was just testing you. I will fix it."

"You sure? You won’t play any more games with me?" Lucius asked innocently, his voice sounding unsure and hurt.

Imran rubbed his temples and turned towards Farouq, "Farouq. Remove the trackers. Bring another million from the car."

But Lucius held up one finger, "Ah-ah. Two million."

Imran turned his head slightly, "Two?"

"Of course... One million that was missing," Lucius said, "And one million for breaking my trust in the beautiful relationship we were trying to build."

Farouq looked at Imran. Imran’s lips twitched, and for a second, it looked like he might lose his temper.

But he didn’t. He sighed and gave a sharp nod.

Farouq walked back to the car again. Lucius watched him go, then looked back at Imran and grinned.

"You know brother," he said, "This might just be the beginning of a beautiful friendship between the two of us."

[You know, Master, you should really be more grateful that you have me. Without me, you would not have been able to find those trackers, and this guy would have made a fool of you.]

Lucius smirked as he heard the System’s voice echo inside his head.

’Don’t get ahead of yourself,’ he thought, keeping his face calm and unreadable.

[Oh please. You are just jealous that I am smarter than you.]

Lucius chuckled softly under his breath, ’I would rather be lucky than smart.’

[And yet, you have me. Which makes you both.]

Before Lucius could answer, Farouq returned. He was carrying another black duffel bag. This one was fuller and heavier.

Without speaking, Farouq walked up to the line of bags and dropped the extra one with a dull thud beside the rest.

And following that, he didn’t waste time. One by one, he opened every bag, using a small knife to cut the seams of the lining. From each bag, he pulled out a tiny black tracker, barely the size of a coin. He tossed them onto the gravel at his feet like trash.

Soon twelve trackers were on the ground. And just to insure Lucius, Imran crushed them all in front of him.

Farouq gave a quick nod and stepped back.

[Everything looks okay now, Master. There are no more bugs. And it is 26 million dollars exactly. We are richer than 90% of this country.]

Lucius turned toward Imran, grinning.

"See? Wasn’t that easy?" he said with mock sweetness, "A little honesty. And look everyone’s happy."

Imran didn’t smile. He ignored Lucius completely, "Now where’s my brother?" he asked.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "What’s the rush? He’s right here."

Lucius stepped forward, grabbed one of the duffle bags, and shoved it into Imran’s chest.

Imran caught it by reflex. His brow furrowed.

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

Lucius gave a small shrug, "I am short on staff, bro."

"And I can’t exactly ask my guys to stop aiming guns at your heads and help me carry your money, now can I? So... please help out your brother na."

And without waiting for an answer from Imran, Lucius tossed another bag over his own shoulder, then picked up a third and hung it over Imran’s. Then another. Then another.

And within seconds, Imran stood there with five large bags of money hanging from him like a heavily loaded delivery boy.

Lucius patted his shoulder with a grin, "You are a strong man."

Then he turned to Farouq.

"You, my man, look like a gym rat. Strong arms, serious face. I bet you can carry six."

Lucius bent down to grab another bag, ready to toss it at Farouq, but for the first time that night, Farouq spoke in front of Lucius.

"Stop," he said in a low, firm voice.

Lucius paused. Farouq didn’t wait. He stepped forward and began lifting the bags himself. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

With quiet efficiency, he stacked the bags in his arms and walked toward the van without another word.

Imran stood still for a second, watching Farouq’s back. Then, frowning, he followed him toward the van, the weight of the money pulling at his shoulders.

Lucius laughed softly and picked up the last three bags, "Guess we are all doing some cardio tonight."

He followed behind them, the night air cool and damp around them. The crunch of gravel under their feet echoed across the empty lakefront.

Soon, all three stood at the back of the white delivery van.

Lucius set the bags down beside him and clapped his hands together, as if brushing off dust.

"Well," he said, stretching out the word, "This is the part where I make a speech. Something dramatic, something poetic. Build a little suspense, you know?"

Imran let out a sharp breath, "Just open the damn doors."

Lucius frowned playfully, "You are no fun."

Still, he turned to the rear doors and gripped the handle, and with a quick tug, the metal doors creaked open.

And just as the doors opened, a foul smell rushed out. It was sharp, sour, and metallic. It was the smell of dried blood and rotten meat

Imran flinched and took a step back. Even Farouq wrinkled his nose.

Inside the van, under the dim interior light, lay Rauf. Or whatever was left of him.

He was slumped over, barely conscious, his body bound tightly with the same cruel, thorny whip. Blood had soaked through his clothes. Some of the blood had dried, while some was still fresh. His once white suit was now blackened and filthy.

Poor little Rauf had been tossed around in the van like a sack of meat. Every turn, every bump on the road had slammed him into the cold steel walls.

He looked nothing like the loud, arrogant Rauf Imran knew. And for a moment, Imran just stared, speechless.

Lucius scratched the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed, "Yeah... Umm... Sorry about the presentation. This is my first time kidnapping someone."

He pointed at Rauf with a shrug, "He is still alive though. That counts for something, right?"

Imran looked at Lucius, his expression unreadable.

Lucius smiled sheepishly, "Sorry for any... damaged delivery,"

Then he added with a wink, "But no refunds. Huh..."

** ** ** ** **