Chapter 7 - Lana

Clara was in the garden, lounging on a white chaise, sipping from a tall glass of champagne. Dick could tell from the glint on the bottle—Dom Pérignon. Only the best for her. She glanced up lazily when he approached, already looking like she was annoyed he dared to disturb her peace.

"Hi," Dick said simply. His tone was calm, not the apology-filled stammer he used to resort to whenever Clara was around.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She was used to seeing him grovel, avoid eye contact, flinch at her every word. This new posture, standing up straight, shoulders back, threw her off balance. Clara tilted her head, examining him with a sharpness in her eyes, but Dick didn't waver.

"Where were you?" she asked, the question dripping with suspicion.

Without missing a beat, Dick had his lie ready. "Went to look for a job," he said with a steady tone. "I need some money."

For a moment, Clara didn't say anything. She sipped her champagne, her lips curling into a mockery of a smile as she stared at him. Then, a short laugh escaped her, cold and sharp. "A job? Really, Dick?"

He didn't flinch. "Yeah. Figured it's time I started pulling my weight."

Clara set the glass down on the small table beside her, crossing her legs as her eyes narrowed. "What for? You finally saving up for one of those creepy sex dolls you're always Googling? Or maybe a nice little pocket pussy to go with those disgusting figurines you jack off to in your room?"

Dick's jaw tightened, but outwardly, he didn't react. He'd expected this. The old him would have stumbled over his words, cheeks burning, trying to deny everything. But now, it just rolled off him.

Clara waited, eyes gleaming, clearly expecting a reaction. When none came, her smile faltered. She leaned forward, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the glass. "Come on, Dick. You've never even had a job before. What's this sudden change? Did Jessica's boyfriend finally humiliate you enough that you decided to do something with your pathetic life?"

Dick shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I just got tired of sitting around."

Clara scoffed, sitting back against the cushions. "Right. And what kind of job do you think you can get with... that?" She waved her hand up and down, motioning at him like he was still the same fat, acne-covered disaster she was used to seeing.

"I'll find something," he said, nonchalant.

Clara's eyes narrowed again, irritation flickering across her face as she realized her usual digs weren't hitting their mark. She picked up her glass, swirling the champagne slowly. "Well, make sure it's something where we don't have to see you. Maybe a night shift. You seem like the type who works better in the dark."

Dick didn't respond, just nodded like he was considering her suggestion. After a long pause, Clara sighed, clearly bored with the lack of resistance. She drained her glass, setting it back down with a loud clink before standing up. "Well, whatever," she muttered, stretching lazily. "Just don't embarrass yourself too much. The last thing we need is to see your name in the paper for some pathetic reason."

Dick held back a smirk as she brushed past him, her expensive perfume lingering in the air. For once, her words didn't have the power they used to. She didn't realize it yet, but her reign over him was coming to an end.

After Clara left, Dick was about to return to his room too, when he saw a figure lingering at the edge of the garden, near the tall hedges that separated the manicured estate from the staff quarters. His eyes narrowed. Lana? Lana Fisk, the gardener's daughter. He hadn't seen her much lately, but she was hard to miss. She almost seemed sweet, in a way, if she didn't outright ignore his very existence whenever they crossed paths, he would like her. But alas... 

She wasn't reading like she usually did. She stood there, staring out at the horizon, hands clutching her phone like she was waiting for something.

Lana wasn't his usual target. Sleeping with the gardener's daughter might not be the traditional form of cuckolding he was after, but Fisk—the old bastard who handled the estate's grounds—was enough of an asshole to deserve it. Fisk acted like he owned the place sometimes, looking down his nose at Dick with thinly veiled contempt. Lana, being his daughter, made her fair game. Plus, there was something satisfying about the idea of taking something from Fisk that the old man held close, even if it wasn't exactly what the system had intended. 

To him, sleeping with Fisk's daughter? That would count for something, even if it wasn't a direct hit. He'd find a way to make it count.

Dick walked toward Lana. She didn't look up as he approached, still absorbed in whatever was on her phone. That was fine. He wasn't expecting her to notice right away.

He stopped just short of her, close enough to see the faint glow of her screen illuminating her face. "Hey," he said casually, keeping his voice low.

She blinked, startled out of her bubble, then looked up at him. Her expression flickered between mild annoyance and disinterest. "Oh, it's you," she muttered, slipping her phone into her pocket. "What do you want, Dick?"

Her tone wasn't exactly cold, but it wasn't friendly either. That suited him just fine.

"Not much," he replied with a shrug, keeping it light. "Just saw you standing here alone. Thought I'd say hi."

She arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Since when do you start initiating conversations?"

Dick smirked, leaning casually against the hedge. "People change."

Lana crossed her arms, her posture guarded. "Yeah? What's your angle?"

Dick shrugged, maintaining his calm. "No angle. Just making small talk."

Lana scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "Right. Like you're the small talk type."

Her resistance didn't faze him. He could sense the underlying tension in her, the way she stood a little too rigid, her guard up. Her eyes flicked toward the gates of the mansion every so often. Waiting for someone, Dick thought. He glanced at her face, noting the subtle twitch of her lips, the way she shifted uncomfortably when silence stretched between them.

"Expecting someone?" he asked, keeping his voice casual, but his gaze was sharp, watching her reaction.

Lana's expression tightened, but she shrugged, trying to play it off. "None of your business," she muttered, her eyes darting again to the gates. "You should probably head back inside. You've got enough drama to deal with in there."

Dick chuckled softly. "Trust me, nothing in there's gonna surprise me anymore." He tilted his head, studying her. "But it looks like you've got your own problems."

Her jaw clenched, and she took a step back, folding her arms defensively. "What are you getting at, Dick?"

He didn't answer right away, letting the tension simmer between them. Instead, he leaned towards her and watched her closely. "You're waiting for someone," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "And you don't want me here when they show up."

Lana's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something darker passing across her face—fear, maybe. She bit her lip, glancing at the gates again, then back to him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're hiding something," he continued. He pushed off the hedge, standing a little closer to her. "What's going on, Lana?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and she took another step back, her eyes darting again toward the gate. "It's nothing," she muttered quickly, but her voice lacked conviction. "Just... leave me alone, okay? I don't need you hovering around."

Dick was about to press further when the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine rumbled from the street. His eyes flicked toward the gate as a sleek black bike rolled up, the rider's face obscured by a dark helmet. Lana's entire body tensed.

"Shit," she whispered under her breath, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "You need to go, Dick. Now."

"Why?" he asked, his curiosity spiking. "Who's that?"

The rider parked the bike just outside the gate, dismounting slowly. Even through the helmet, there was something predatory about his movements, something that set Dick on edge. The rider removed his helmet, revealing a man in his thirties, his face sharp, angular, and covered in a rough layer of stubble. His eyes, cold and scarred, locked onto Lana immediately.

Lana took a step forward, glancing nervously at Dick before turning her full attention to the man. "Jared," she said, her voice strained, barely masking the fear. "You didn't have to come here."

Jared smirked, his eyes drifting lazily from Lana to Dick. "Yeah, well, you didn't leave me much of a choice, did you?" He took a slow step forward, his hands slipping casually into the pockets of his leather jacket. "You're late, Lana. Again."

Lana's breath hitched, and she swallowed hard. "I... I'll have the money soon. Just give me a little more time."

Jared's smirk widened, but there was no humor in it. He stepped closer, ignoring Dick completely. "Time's up, Lana," he said, his voice low and threatening. "You know the deal. You don't pay, you work it off."

Dick glanced between them, piecing together the situation. Lana owed this guy money—probably a lot—and whatever deal she'd made with him, it wasn't going to end well for her.

"I'm getting it together," Lana stammered, desperation creeping into her voice. "I just... need a little more time."

Jared's eyes gleamed with amusement as he leaned in close, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "We both know that's not happening." His voice dropped to a whisper, cold and menacing. "But I've got another way for you to pay up, don't I?"

Lana stiffened, her eyes flicking toward Dick, her expression pleading silently for him to leave, to not witness what was about to happen.

But Dick didn't move. "What the hell is going on here?" he asked, his voice low, cutting through the tension.

Jared finally acknowledged him, glancing over with a sneer. "This doesn't concern you, kid. Get lost."

Dick crossed his arms, standing firm. "It concerns me if you're threatening her."

Lana shook her head quickly, stepping between them. "Dick, just go. Please."

But Dick didn't budge, his eyes locked on Jared. Jared chuckled darkly, clearly unimpressed. "You've got balls, kid, I'll give you that. But this isn't your fight." His eyes flicked to Lana, his smirk returning. "Lana and I have an agreement. She doesn't pay up, she pays in other ways." He paused, his eyes glinting with something predatory. "And tonight, that means posing for me. Nude."

Lana flinched, her face paling. Dick's eyes widened, and the pieces clicked into place. Jared wasn't just collecting money—he was exploiting her, using her debt as leverage to humiliate her and use her as an asset. Good business.

This was his chance.

He turned to Lana, his voice calm but firm. "You don't have to do this."

Lana's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly shook her head. "I don't have a choice, Dick. You don't understand."

Jared scoffed, stepping closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "She's right, kid. She doesn't have a choice." He leaned in, his voice dripping with arrogance. "She's mine until she clears her debt."

He stepped closer to Lana, his voice low, but steady. "What if I pay off her debt?"

Both Lana and Jared froze, their eyes snapping to Dick in disbelief.

"What?" Lana whispered, her voice shaky.

Dick didn't take his eyes off Jared. "How much does she owe?"

Jared tilted his head, clearly amused. "You really think you can cover her debt, kid?"

"How much?" Dick repeated, his voice cold.

Jared smirked, leaning back slightly. "Five grand."

Lana's face drained of color, her hands trembling. "Dick, don't—"

But Dick's mind was already working. He didn't have five grand, not even close, but the system could provide him with what he needed. The problem was whether he should do it or not.

A soft ping echoed in his head.

[Side Quest: Debt of Trust

Objective: Pay off Lana's debt and gain her loyalty, make her submit to your cock. Cuckolding is an art that goes beyond fucking another man's woman. Cockblocking a man, then stealing his opportunity, is just another facet of this beautiful art. Steal Jared's opportunity and fuck Lana before he does.

Reward: +10 NP.]

Dick almost chuckled out loud. This situation was spiraling fast, and now he had an opportunity. All he had to do was convert NP to money. Each point in Netori Points was worth a grand.

He hesitated for a second, weighing his options. He'd just earned 10 NP after a month of grinding—it wasn't something to throw away lightly. But with this new quest dangling in front of him, there was no room for hesitation anymore. Dick's fingers brushed his pocket, and he called out in his mind, "System, convert 5 NP to 5 grand."

A familiar ping echoed in his thoughts, followed by a cold, mechanical voice: [Conversion complete. 5,000 dollars transferred to your account]

Jared's smug smirk faltered as Dick pulled his phone out of his pocket, eyes locked on the screen as the numbers refreshed. The money was there, real and undeniable. He glanced up at Jared, then over at Lana, who stood frozen, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I said I'd pay it off," Dick repeated as he looked Jared dead in the eye. "So here it is."

Jared frowned, his smirk fading as he processed what Dick had just said. Real money? He hadn't expected that. His entire modus operandi was built around lending to people who couldn't pay him back, trapping them in an endless cycle of humiliation and control. He had been grooming Lana for weeks, waiting for this exact moment. The plan was simple: lend her money, ensure she couldn't repay it, then use her debt as leverage to get what he really wanted. She was too beautiful, too vulnerable to resist.

First, he'd have her pose for nudes, under the guise of "working off" what she owed. Those pictures would stay private, of course—at least at first. Jared had no intention of posting them, not until she was fully under his thumb. The ultimate prize would be getting her into his bed. Once he was bored of her, then the real fun would begin. He'd release the pictures, maybe even a few videos of him fucking her, just to earn even more money.

But now? This little shit, Dick, had just thrown a wrench into his perfect plan.

Jared's eyes flicked to Lana, who was still frozen in shock, then back to Dick. He wasn't used to being challenged like this. His gaze darkened, jaw tightening as he tried to figure out his next move.

"You serious, kid?" Jared's voice was low, with a little bit of threat. "Playing the hero? I did a little digging. She's just a gardener's daughter. I don't know if you're another worker or someone's charity case, but either way, she won't jump into your bed just because you pay her debt."

Dick's eyes locked onto Jared's with icy calm. "Take the money," he said, his tone cold and flat. "And fuck off."

For a moment, the tension was thick, neither man willing to back down. Lana stood frozen between them, her breath shallow, not knowing which way this would go. Jared's smirk faltered as he realized Dick wasn't bluffing. His eyes flicked to the phone, then back to Dick.

"Alright," Jared finally said, his voice tight with suppressed anger. "Five grand." He stepped forward, snatching the phone from Dick's hand to check the transaction. After a few taps, the confirmation popped up, and his smirk returned, though this time it was smaller, more forced. He handed the phone back to Dick with a scoff. "Guess she's all yours now, huh? Hope you get your money's worth."

He turned to Lana, his eyes darkening. "You got lucky this time, but don't think I won't come back around if you pull something again." His voice dropped to a growl. "Keep your nose clean, Lana."

She flinched but didn't respond. Jared didn't wait for her to. He shoved his helmet back on and mounted his bike, revving the engine before peeling out of the driveway. The roar of the motorcycle faded into the distance, leaving only the heavy silence behind.

Lana stood there, staring at the ground, her body still trembling. She didn't move, didn't speak. Just... stood.

Dick finally broke the silence. "You okay?"

Lana's head snapped up, her eyes locking onto his with confusion, shame, and disbelief. "Why the hell did you do that?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "You just wasted five grand on me. Why?"

Dick shrugged, keeping his tone casual. "Because I could."

"Because you could?" She shook her head, incredulous. "I was never good to you. You had no reason to do that."

"Maybe," Dick replied, his voice calm. "I know his type. He would've used those pictures to torment you forever. The idea just disgusted me."

Lana scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "No, he was right. You just want me in your bed, don't you?"

Dick chuckled, the sound cold and dismissive. "Don't overestimate yourself, Lana. For five grand, I could spend fifty nights with women more beautiful than you."

Her eyes narrowed, her lips parting in anger, but before she could snap back, he turned away, cutting her off with his next words. "You owe me five grand. But I won't force you like he did. Pay me back when you can."

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. The fury in her expression faltered, replaced by confusion. "You're serious?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"I don't joke about money," Dick said, glancing over his shoulder at her. "You've got time. But don't think I'll forget."

Lana stood there, speechless. The tremble in her hands had faded, but the tension remained. She wasn't used to this. Jared's threats were clear-cut—brutal, yes, but predictable. But Dick? She couldn't figure him out, and that uncertainty gnawed at her.

"You didn't have to do this," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "I could've handled it."