After dealing with Serena, just as Dick was pondering what to do next, his phone buzzed. A text flashed across the screen—Emily.
For a moment, he froze, blinking at the name. Out of everyone in his life, Emily was the last person he expected to hear from. She'd been distant for as long as he could remember, never one to reach out, let alone ask for anything. But there it was, clear as day:
Emily: "Need your help. If you want, come to the mall behind my school. I'm sitting at Mermaidbucks."
Dick stared at the message for a second. No explanation. No fluff. Typical Emily. She barely spoke to anyone in the house, and whenever she did, it was like pulling teeth. So for her to reach out like this, it had to be something serious.
Emily had always been the quiet one, fading into the background at family gatherings, barely interacting with anyone. She'd never given him any attention, and he'd assumed she preferred it that way. So why now?
Without wasting time, he grabbed his jacket and keys. The McLaren roared to life as he pulled out of the estate, the tires humming against the pavement as he headed toward the mall. Emily wasn't someone who asked for help unless she really needed it.
The mall was fairly empty when he arrived, the soft hum of distant chatter filling the air as he walked toward the Mermaidbucks. It didn't take long to spot her—sitting at a table in the far corner, her face half-hidden behind her hoodie, a cup of coffee in front of her.
Dick approached, sliding into the seat across from Emily without a word. She barely glanced up from her cup, her usual disinterest painted on her face. Emily was never one for pleasantries, and today was no different. She didn't even offer a greeting, just got straight to the point.
"The girl on your 4, causing some problem for me. I want you to fuck her brains out and record it while humiliating her, so I can tear down her reputation. If you can do half of what you did to Lana, it should be enough."
Dick leaned back in his seat, glancing briefly in the direction she mentioned. The girl was laughing, completely unaware of the conversation happening just a few tables away. Some high school senior by the looks of it. Popular, probably one of those types who thought she could rule the social hierarchy. Her kind never learned until someone knocked them off the pedestal.
She said it so casually, like she was discussing the weather, not asking for the calculated destruction of someone's life. No explanation, no "please"—just the demand. That was how Emily worked: she offered something:A pussy to Dick, in return expected results, and didn't care for the details in between. Always to the point, cold, detached. But this time, Dick wasn't going to let her skate by on her usual bullshit.
He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as he regarded her. "And why should I?"
Emily barely flinched, taking a sip from her coffee as if the question hadn't even registered. She flicked her eyes to the girl she'd mentioned earlier, then back to Dick. "Because you're good at it," she replied, her tone flat, as if that was the only answer that mattered.
Dick let out a slow breath, his jaw tightening. "Not what I asked."
Emily finally set her cup down, her eyes narrowing slightly as she stared at him. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "You want an explanation?" she asked, her voice laced with the same cold indifference she always carried. "Fine. That bitch has been running her mouth, spreading lies about me at school. I've tried ignoring it, but she won't stop. She thinks she's untouchable. I want her to know she's not."
Dick's lips twitched, but not into a smile. There was more to it than that. There always was with Emily. "And why fuck her? Why not just handle it yourself? You've never had an issue taking someone down before."
She shrugged, but her eyes flickered with something darker. "Because it's more permanent. More satisfying. People forget about a fight, about rumors. But a video like that? She'll never live it down."
Dick shook his head, glancing over at the girl again. "So, you're just going to use me to handle your dirty work."
She looked at him, her lips curling into a half-smile. "Isn't she beautiful? Even I have to admit."
Dick glanced at the girl again. She was sitting with a group of friends, laughing, seemingly oblivious to the world outside her little bubble. Her skin was a deep, smooth brown, glowing under the soft lights of the café. Her hair was styled in tight curls that framed her face perfectly, bouncing slightly as she laughed at something one of her friends said. She wore a fitted, off-the-shoulder top that accentuated her toned shoulders and collarbones, her athletic build apparent even in the casual way she sat.
Her eyes caught the light every time she turned her head, large and expressive, framed by long, dark lashes. Confidence radiated from her—a kind of ease that came naturally to the popular girls, the ones who knew how to navigate the intricate social webs of high school hierarchy. Her smile was wide, showing perfect white teeth, and it lit up her whole face, making her look even more radiant.
Even from this distance, Dick could see why Emily felt threatened. The girl was the kind that drew attention effortlessly. Beautiful, sure, but more than that, she had a magnetic energy about her, like people gravitated toward her just because of who she was. It wasn't just about looks; it was about how she carried herself—head high, back straight, completely in control of the space around her.
"Yeah," Dick said, his voice low. "She's got something."
Emily's eyes flicked to him, watching for his reaction, her lips twitching slightly as she leaned back in her chair. "I thought you'd say that."
There was a challenge in her tone, but Dick didn't rise to it. He kept his eyes on the girl, studying her for a moment longer. She was laughing again, completely unaware of the conversation happening about her. Her laughter was rich, filling the space around her, and for a second, Dick could almost see why she was such a force at school.
But that wasn't what this was about. This was Emily's game, her power play. The girl had crossed a line, and now Emily wanted her destroyed.
"What's her name?" Dick asked, his eyes never leaving the girl.
"Jada," Emily replied, her voice steady. "Jada Freeman."
"Interesting." Dick nodded, tapping his fingers against the table absentmindedly. He watched as Jada stood up from her chair, her hips swaying slightly as she walked toward the counter to order something. Her friends continued their conversation without her, but Dick could tell they kept half an eye on her, like they were waiting for her to come back and reignite the energy.
She had that effect. Even with her back turned, Jada dominated the space. Her presence was magnetic, commanding without being overbearing. Dick could see how someone like her might seem untouchable, especially in a high school setting where appearances were everything.
"What's her deal?" Dick asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it now, an undercurrent of something darker. "What did she say about you?"
Emily's expression didn't change as she took another sip of her coffee. "She's been telling people I fucked a teacher to get better grades," Emily said flatly, her eyes locked on Jada as the girl leaned against the counter. "And that I've slept with half the football team. She wants to tear me down, ruin my reputation. It's not about the rumors—those don't bother me. It's the fact she thinks she can do it."
It was probably true.
To Emily, this wasn't just about rumors. She wasn't the type to let lies stick, but the idea that someone, especially someone like Jada, was free to throw accusations at her without consequence? That was unacceptable. Calm and quiet as Emily might be, she wasn't the kind of person to tolerate disrespect.
Just because Emily was calm and quiet didn't mean she would let people throw mud at her and walk away. She wasn't someone to make a scene, but Dick knew better than to underestimate her. The reason Emily was so dangerous was simple—she was always in the background, pulling strings so subtly that no one ever saw her coming. Dick had learned over the years to be cautious around her, even if she didn't openly wield her power like Melissa or Rebecca. Emily was methodical, patient, and when she did strike, it was with precision.
"So," Dick grinned, leaning back in his seat. "You called your big bro to come and save you?"
Emily's eyes flicked to him, her expression flat, but there was a trace of amusement behind it. "I didn't say I needed saving," she replied, her tone cool. "I said I needed help. There's a difference."
He chuckled, shaking his head. This was their first real conversation—hell, maybe the first time they'd exchanged more than a few words in years. For all the time they'd spent under the same roof, living in the same house, they'd never really spoken to each other. Emily had always been a shadow, someone who drifted in and out of the family's chaos without making a sound. But now? Now she was sitting across from him, asking him to handle something she couldn't—or rather, something she didn't want to handle directly.
"So not you do it?" he asked, his tone light but edged with curiosity. "You could've handled this yourself. I mean, you're a master at the game. I've seen you work from the shadows, and it's pretty damn impressive."
Emily's gaze didn't waver. She shrugged slightly, her fingers idly tapping the side of her coffee cup. "Because I don't want to play this one from the shadows," she said quietly. "Jada needs to be broken publicly. I want to break her in the one thing she thinks she holds above all else."
Dick hummed, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. "And what is that?"
Emily's lips curled into a soft smile, almost amused by the question. "Sexual conquest. Despite all my capabilities, although it might surprise you, I cannot grow a dick, not that I would stoop so low to fuck that bitch."
She paused, letting her words sink in. "That's where you come in."
Dick's smirk deepened. He understood now, the full scope of what she was asking. She didn't just want to humiliate Jada—she wanted to utterly ruin her, make her into nothing but a toy. "Dominate her," Emily continued, her tone low and matter-of-fact. "Make her beg, cry, become a slave to your cock. So much so that she can't even think without it in her slutty little cunt. Like you did to Lana."
Emily was never one to make demands lightly, and this? This was as serious as it got. She wanted to take Jada's confidence, her reputation, and everything she built her identity on, and rip it apart. Sexual domination was the fastest way to do it—the most irreversible. There was no bouncing back from that kind of fall.
"And you're sure about this?" Dick asked, his voice low, almost dangerous. "You want me to take her down like that? Publicly?"
Emily didn't flinch, didn't waver. "I want her to be nothing when you're done with her," she said simply, her fingers still tapping rhythmically against the cup. "I don't care how you do it. Just make sure she knows she'll never recover."