Chapter 100: Raymond knows he just likes games
Fuck... Fuck... Fuck!
Lucas shouted as he hurled his phone to the ground, the device shattering on impact before he began stomping on it angrily. Each step was brutal, relentless, like he was trying to crush something far deeper than glass and metal.
He moved like someone possessed, his breaths uneven, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers tangled into his hair, gripping and pulling harshly as if he could rip out the chaos inside his mind.
His eyes were bloodshot, wide and unseeing.
In a sudden burst of rage, he stormed toward the table and swept everything off it with a single violent motion. Papers, bottles,
glasses, everything crashed to the floor in a deafening clatter. He stood there afterward, breathing heavily, his chest heaving as silence crept back into the room.
And then, without warning...
He began to laugh.
The sound was sharp. Unhinged. Hysterical.
Lucas laughed as though he had finally lost the last thread holding him together.
He had been laughing earlier too, waiting and anticipating good news soon.
He hadn’t even noticed when the motorcade left the city. Why would he? He had been too consumed with what he believed was his victory to even consider that Raymond might go the extra mile.
That was his first mistake.
He should have known something was wrong when the network went down.
The moment he saw the video, something inside him had shifted. He didn’t need anyone to tell him, only Raymond could pull off something like that. The precision, the timing... it screamed Raymond.
Lucas had immediately tried reaching Darius and his men, but none of them were answering. Not one call went through. Not a single message was returned.
That was when doubt crept in.
Still, he held on to hope.
Darius had almost bested Raymond the last time they fought. If not for the interference, Raymond wouldn’t have walked away from that fight. Lucas had been counting on that. Banking on it.
He had spent the entire night drinking, his mind spiraling as his carefully curated three-year plan hung in the balance. Three years of patience. Three years of manipulation.
Three years of calculated moves, now slipping through his fingers, and he couldn’t do a thing about it.
His eyes remained glued to the television.
He couldn’t go to the island. That would be reckless. If Raymond saw him there, it would raise questions, questions Lucas couldn’t afford.
The few times he had gone to the island before, he never even stepped foot on it. Darius had always come to meet him at the boat to avoid been seen or recognized me , and they would leave immediately to conduct their business elsewhere.
Careful. Controlled. Hidden.
That was how Lucas operated.
Oasis Island had been his domain.
And now...
Now he didn’t even know if he could set foot there again.
Regret clawed at him viciously.
He should have kept Lena somewhere else. Anywhere else. He could have moved her out of the country while Raymond was away. No one would have known. No one would have suspected a thing.
But now...
Now it was too late.
Lucas had remained in that same position for nearly two days, no bath, no food, barely any sleep. Just alcohol and the constant hum of dread sitting in his chest.
Then the news broke.
Police raided a crime boss’s hideout in Oasis Island, the boss involved the police in a fierce battle but the police prevailed.
That was the moment everything collapsed.
That was the moment Lucas lost.
The glass cup in his hand shattered under the pressure of his grip, cutting into his palm as shards dug into his skin.
He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he welcomed the pain, letting it ground him as he began destroying everything in sight.
And that was how Gerald found him.
The knock on the door barely registered at first.
But when it came again, louder this time, Lucas’s head snapped toward it. His expression darkened instantly, his lips curling into something dangerous.
Perfect.
A scapegoat.
He moved quickly, too quickly, and yanked the door open with force before launching himself at the person standing there.
His vision was blurred with rage. His thoughts were distorted.
He didn’t see a face.
He saw Raymond.
Lucas began throwing punches, each one filled with months, no, years, of hatred. His hands moved wildly, uncontrollably, before they found the person’s neck.
And then he squeezed.
"Why won’t you just die, Raymond?!" he shouted angrily, his grip tightening.
"What is wrong with you?!"
Gerald’s voice came out strained, barely audible under the pressure crushing his throat. His eyes widened in shock, his hands instinctively reaching up to push his son away.
For a moment, he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening.
His son....
Lucas looked like a madman.
When he realized Lucas didn’t recognize him, fear settled deep into his chest. But when the grip tightened further, cutting off his air completely, instinct took over.
"Stop... Lucas... it’s me... your father..." Gerald choked out, his voice breaking as his vision began to blur.
That was when something shifted.
Lucas froze.
His eyes flickered, scanning the face beneath him as if seeing it for the first time. Recognition hit him like a slap.
He staggered back immediately, horror washing over his features.
"Dad...?"
Gerald rolled onto his side, coughing violently as he struggled to pull air back into his lungs. Tears gathered in his eyes from the strain as he clutched his throat.
But the relief didn’t last long.
The moment he regained himself, anger surged through him.
He pushed himself up and strode toward Lucas before delivering a heavy slap across his face. The sound echoed sharply in the room, snapping Lucas’s head to the side.
"What is wrong with you?!" Gerald demanded angrily. "Do you want to kill me?!"
Lucas said nothing.
He sank down slowly, his head hanging low, his gaze fixed on the floor. Shame crept into his expression, dulling the madness that had consumed him moments ago."I’m sorry, Dad..." he said quietly. "It wasn’t my intention."
He swallowed hard before continuing.
"I thought... I thought you were Raymond."
His fingers moved back into his hair as he leaned his head against the wall, exhaustion creeping in beneath the chaos.
Gerald stared at him, stunned.
"You thought I was Raymond?" he repeated. "Son, you know Raymond doesn’t know about this place. Why would he come here?"
He shook his head, trying to make sense of it.
"This is our hideout. Only you, me, and Cynthia know about it. And Cynthia wouldn’t be foolish enough to admit she used to meet you here. So why the paranoia?"
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Then.....
Lucas started laughing again.
The sound was quieter this time, but no less disturbing.
It sent a chill down Gerald’s spine.
"You really think he doesn’t know this place?" Lucas said, his voice low and uneven. "He knows everything."
He pushed himself up and began walking toward the bar, his steps slow but purposeful.
"Raymond knows," he continued. "He just pretends he doesn’t... because this is all a game to him."
Gerald followed him cautiously.
"What makes you so sure....."
His words died in his throat the moment he stepped into the room.
It looked like a battlefield.
Broken glass littered the floor. Furniture was overturned. Bottles lay shattered, their contents soaking into the carpet. The entire place reeked of alcohol and destruction.
"What happened here, son?" Gerald asked, his voice laced with concern.
Lucas didn’t answer.
He walked straight to the bar, grabbed a bottle, and uncorked it without hesitation. Tilting his head back, he drank directly from it, ignoring the glass sitting just inches away.
After taking a long swig, he slammed the bottle
down and turned to face his father.
"Lucas... are you okay?" Gerald asked carefully.
"This place reeks of alcohol. How long have you been drinking?"
"Two days," Lucas replied flatly.
Gerald frowned.
"Two days is too much," he said. "Put the bottle down and go take a bath. I’ll have someone clean this place up, and we’ll talk in another room when you are done bathing."
He tried to keep his tone calm, steady, but beneath it was unease.
Lucas stared at him for a long moment.
Then suddenly...
He hurled the bottle against the wall.
It shattered instantly, liquid splashing across the surface and dripping onto the floor. Gerald flinched slightly, his body tensing at the sudden action.
For a brief moment, their eyes locked.
Something unreadable passed through Lucas’s gaze, but then....
Without a word, he turned and walked out of the room.He left the room to go do as he was instructed, he agreed because he needed it so he could think properly. This isn’t him, who won’t let Raymond win no matter what .
So he willingly left so he could bathe and plan in a good state of mind
Gerald exhaled slowly, only then realizing he had been holding his breath the entire time.
"Gerald..." he muttered to himself. "You’ve created a monster you’re now afraid of."
He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts spiraling.
Quickly, he pulled out his phone and made a call, arranging for someone to come clean up the mess. But even as he spoke, his mind remained elsewhere, on Lucas.
On what he had just witnessed.
After ending the call, he sat down heavily, his heart still unsettled.
How had he never seen it?
How had he missed something so obvious?
That behind Lucas’s easy smiles and careless attitude...
Was something far darker.
Something calculated.
Something dangerous.
Gerald shuddered as the memory replayed in his mind, his son’s hands wrapped around his throat, his eyes empty, unrecognizing.
He was Cold, detached and Lethal.
He closed his eyes briefly, he knew
His son wasn’t just angry.
He was unraveling.
And if something didn’t change soon....
Lucas would become a ticking time bomb.
And next time...
There might be no one left to stop him. His eyes snapped open as he eyes trail the path Lucas had taken to the bathroom
