Grabbing Liam by the collar, Dick dragged him down the grimy stairwell, each step echoing like a countdown to the kid's ruined life. Liam barely struggled, his body limp with resignation, though a few pitiful whimpers escaped his mouth, as if he thought begging might still work.
Waiting outside was a sleek black car, engine quietly purring, its presence ominous in the run-down neighborhood. Mrs. Harper's bodyguards stood by, tall and expressionless. Dick had called her earlier. Since she was his bitch now, completely under his control, she eagerly sent her men to handle this little problem without question. The men stepped forward without a word as Dick dragged Liam closer, their muscles rippling under expensive suits.
With one swift motion, Dick shoved Liam toward them. "Take him," he ordered. "Make sure he's handed over with the flash drive. Cops should get everything." He turned back to the apartment, glancing at the closed door. "And let Mrs. Turner know her son was caught red-handed. Don't filter his disgusting crimes. She should know all."
One of the bodyguards took the flash drive with a grim nod. They moved like professionals, lifting Liam by his arms and hauling him toward the car. Liam let out one last, desperate whine, his voice cracking with terror. "Please, I can't go to jail! I'll die in there!"
Dick turned on his heel, walking away without a second glance. "Should've thought about that before you screwed everyone over," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Liam's muffled sobs quickly disappeared as the car door slammed shut, and the engine roared, fading into the distance. The kid's fate was sealed.
System chimed in his mind as Dick started to walk away.
[Quest Complete: "Liberating the Mother"
Objective: Save Lin Turner from her son's clutch.
Reward: 10 Netori Points.]
Dick frowned. 'What the hell this mean?'
System's answer came promptly. "Cuckoldry isn't a monolith. It's not just about taking another man's woman. It's an intricate tapestry of power, trust, and betrayal. There are branches, variations, each more complex than the last."
His pulse quickened as the voice continued, explaining with brutal precision the nature of the "art." It wasn't simply about conquest. Sometimes, it meant taking control in ways that didn't even involve physicality. Sometimes, it was about leaving an imprint so deep, so undeniable, that no matter what happened next, you owned the mind, the soul, the very being of the person you conquered—and by extension, everyone attached to them.
[Host has dominated Lin physically, but her submission goes beyond that. She belongs to the host now—mentally, emotionally. And Liam? Watching it unfold, feeling his mother slip through his fingers… Host has ruined him. But there's more than just one way to finish a story like this. It's not just about taking his mother—it's about making him complicit in his own downfall. Watching her, knowing that he could never protect her, never satisfies her in ways the host can. That's what true cuckoldry is. It's psychological warfare. And when the host masters that… there's nothing they can do to escape the host.]
Dick froze, absorbing the lesson. The system's words settled into his mind. It wasn't just about Lin, nor was it just about Liam's pathetic existence crumbling at his feet. It was the realization that every thread, every action, had led to this—where he stood above them, not as some mere conqueror, but as something deeper.
He started walking again. Everything was already in motion. Liam was being carted off to the authorities, his blackmailing days over. The kid might think this was the worst part, but the real punishment was still unfolding in his head.
Liam wouldn't forget the sight of his mother, bent over, moaning, lost in the kind of pleasure he'd never be able to give to anyone—pleasure that no son should ever have to witness, yet here he was, trapped in the sick reality Dick had created for him.
That was what the system had been trying to tell him. It wasn't just about taking something physical. It was about owning someone, mind and soul. Liam was broken, shattered by something so primal he would never recover.
And Lin? Well, she'd wake up tomorrow, liberated from her burdens. The initial loss of her son would weigh heavy, but the weight of it was different now. It wasn't the suffocating kind that had pressed on her for years, grinding her down. No, this was sharp, like a fresh wound, something that could heal. The house would be quieter, emptier, but for once, she wouldn't feel like she was drowning.
The money Dick had funneled into her account would ensure she didn't have to keep breaking herself for two jobs. She could breathe now, finally look at the world with eyes that weren't clouded by exhaustion. Maybe she would move out of that grimy apartment, find a place where the air didn't smell like regret and desperation. Hell, maybe she'd go back to school herself—do something for her, for a change. A real life, away from the guilt, away from the endless grind of survival. Dick had made sure of that.
But the emptiness that Liam left behind wouldn't fade easily. He was her son, and no matter what, that part of her heart still beat. It would take time before she stopped glancing at his empty room, before she could make peace with everything he had become. He had crossed a line, one she couldn't have imagined before today. The boy she raised, the one she sacrificed everything for, had crumbled under the weight of his own choices.
It would hurt, but the pain would also clear a path. A path where Lin could stand on her own two feet, free from Liam's shadow and free from the years of putting everyone else first. She would eventually find the strength to move on, to see the world with new eyes, and finally, to live for herself.
And Dick knew, once she was free of guilt, Lin would find him. He was certain of it. Whistling, he started walking back home. Lana was waiting after all.
He saved her ass tonight, at least for now, but that wasn't charity. She signed herself over the moment she stepped through his door. Her crisis was just the beginning of a longer game. After arriving home, he walked toward the back, past the manicured garden, his eyes flicked to the small cottage near the far end of the property. The gardener's place. Lana's place. The lights were off, but he could almost picture her inside, curled up, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell she was going to do next.
He didn't knock, no point in waking up Fisk. Instead, Dick sat in the gazebo, tapping his phone. He pulled up Lana's number.
Dick: Meet me outside.
He hit send.
A few minutes passed, and he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. Lana slipped out of the small cottage, wrapped in a loose hoodie and sweatpants, her hair pulled back hastily. She moved like a ghost across the yard, trying to stay quiet, like she still had something to hide. Maybe she did.
She paused a few feet away from him, hesitant, eyes darting to the ground. "Dick... I didn't expect you to be up."
He didn't bother with small talk, didn't even turn to face her fully. "Sit down."
Lana hesitated for a second, but then she moved to the bench across from him, sitting awkwardly with her hands twisted in her lap. Her eyes kept flicking to his face, then back down, like she was trying to figure out what kind of mood he was in. Not that it mattered. She was here because she didn't have a choice.
"You know why I called you out here," he said, voice low, even.
She swallowed hard, her throat visibly tightening. "I... I know. And I'm sorry. I—"
"Sorry doesn't pay your debt, Lana," Dick cut her off, his voice calm but firm. "I dealt with Luke. And it cost me 25 grand."
Lana's mouth opened in shock. "But—he only wanted twenty—"
"Yeah," Dick said, raising a hand to stop her. "But that would've just bought you time. I didn't pay him off. He's gone for good now." His eyes locked onto hers, raising his hand before she could ask, he added, "No, I didn't kill him. But he's not your problem anymore."
Lana exhaled in a shaky breath, her relief palpable. "Thank you... I—I don't know what to say."
"Don't thank me yet," he said, leaning back on the bench. "You owe me. Big time." His gaze lingered on her for a moment, watching as the weight of his words sank in.
Lana shifted nervously, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "I'll pay you back, I swear. I just need some time—"
"You think I'm looking for cash?" Dick asked, smirking. "You don't have that kind of money, and we both know it."
Her face flushed, her eyes wide with panic. "Then what... what do you want?"
"I want you to start working for me. No half-assed promises. No excuses. You come when I call, do what I say, and in return, I keep cleaning up your messes."
Lana blinked, processing his words. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, trapped but too scared to run. "What kind of work?" Her voice trembled as she asked.
Dick's smirk deepened, but he kept his tone even. "Whatever I need. Could be anything. Could be nothing. Point is, when I say jump, you ask how high."
Lana's lip trembled. She wasn't naive, she knew what he was implying. But there was no way out. "I don't have a choice, do I?"
"You came to me for help. I gave it. Now, you're mine until I decide otherwise."
She was silent for a long moment, her eyes darting back and forth as if searching for an escape route that didn't exist. Finally, she looked up at him, defeated.
Dick slid a small flash drive across the table. It gleamed under the dim light of the gazebo. "The final exam questions," he said, his tone flat. "Graduate. Be useful to me."
Lana stared at the drive, her hand twitching as if afraid to touch it. This small piece of plastic represented everything that had gone wrong in her life. It was the start of her mess with Luke, the reason she'd crawled to Jared in the first place, and now, the price of her freedom.
"You want me to use this?" she asked, her voice small, barely audible. Her fingers hovered just above the flash drive, trembling.
"You wanted out, didn't you?" he finally said, his voice smooth but sharp. "That's your way out. Graduate. Get yourself together."
Lana swallowed hard, her lips parting as if to argue, but no words came out. She knew better. Dick owned her now. Her eyes flicked back to the flash drive, then up to his face. She had to choose.
Finally, she asked, "How about my boyfriend?"
Dick's smirk widened. He leaned back, stretching out casually. "How tight are you holding his leash?"
Lana blinked, taken aback by the bluntness. "I… I don't know what you mean."
"You're not that dense, Lana." His voice was smooth but carried an edge. "You've got him wrapped around your finger, right? Or that is what you think."
Lana nodded slowly, her eyes locked onto Dick's. "He's loyal to me."
Dick snorted, leaning back with a smirk. "Loyalty doesn't mean shit if you can't control him." He watched her closely, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make her squirm. "I'm not asking about his loyalty. I'm asking about his limits. How far can you push him? If I fucked you right in front of him, what would he do?"
Her breath hitched, the question hitting her like a slap. She blinked, her mind racing, but she didn't dare look away from his gaze. "He... he'd lose it," she stammered. "He'd fight back. He—"
Dick chuckled darkly. "Would he really? Or would he just pretend to, until he realizes he can't win? Guys like him—" He waved a hand dismissively. "They like to think they've got power, but the second they're faced with someone like me, they fold. Every. Time."