First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess-Chapter 382: Bidding Byes (ii)

Xavier and Lilia simply stared at each other. This was their last meeting and neither of them knew what to say or do.

Lilia managed a small smile. "Good luck today. And... don’t disappear without saying anything. Keep in touch. Please."

"I will," Xavier said. "Take care of yourself. If anything happens, or if you need something — anything — let me know."

Her smile faltered before she whispered, almost too soft to hear, "You can’t give me what I want."

He stepped closer. "Lilia... do what you want with your life. Don’t decide everything based on other people. And if you’re ever in trouble, call Angel. She’ll handle whatever comes your way."

Lilia nodded slowly, then stepped into him and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back. When she pulled away, she paused for a moment, studying his face.

Then she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.

Not a shy kiss, but a deep one. Her tongue sliding against his, her fingers curled around his jaw. She wasn’t asking for permission; she just wanted that one moment for herself. Xavier let her have it. When she pulled away, her face was red, her eyes wide, and she fled to her room without saying another word.

Her door clicked shut, leaving the apartment quiet.

Xavier exhaled slowly and walked to his own room.

Angel was sitting on his bed — completely naked, legs crossed, her datapad floating beside her as she typed in midair. She didn’t look up when he entered.

"You’re late," she said. "Get dressed. We don’t have much time."

Xavier stripped down the upper half of his outfit and moved to the wardrobe. Angel finally glanced over her shoulder, her eyes running down his back.

"I finished all the preparations on my end," she added. "Shipwork is underway. Car systems updated. Contacts arranged. You just handle the ceremony."

Xavier pulled out the formal black attire Reva had sent earlier. The suit had a vampiric aesthetic — sharp lines, dark fabric, thin red patterns woven subtly within the seams. It was the kind of outfit designed for a man walking into a political battlefield disguised as a celebration.

Angel tilted her head as he tightened the cuffs. "You clean up pretty well, you know that?"

"You’re only saying that because I’m not wearing anything underneath yet."

"That too," she smirked.

He strapped on his boots and holster, fixed the collar, checked the hidden pockets, and made sure the knife tucked inside his sleeve was perfectly balanced. Angel watched him with the steady, observant gaze of someone evaluating a weapon before deployment.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah," Xavier said as he adjusted the last buckle. "Time to crash a vampire ceremony."

Angel grinned. "Then let’s go."

Meanwhile, inside the Blackwood estate, deep in one of Lucas’s private recreational wings, the room was filled with moans, perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable scent of sex.

The room looked like a battlefield of pleasure — bodies sprawled on the bed, on the couch, across cushions on the marble floor. Dozens of naked women lay there, breathing hard, skin glistening, some passed out from overstimulation and exhaustion. Cum dripping from their mouths and pussies, and they were also covered in cum.

Lucas’s body was covered in scratches and lipstick stains, and when he grabbed one of the still-conscious girls by the hips, pulling her back onto his cock, she gasped and clung to him.

"Please—slow—my legs—give me a second—" she breathed, dizzy from the last round.

He smirked, kissed her neck, and pushed her down the bed. "You’re a whore from a stripper agency. You exist to be fucked, and I hired you all for the day so I can do whatever I want with you all. You’re here because I rented you. So shut your mouth and spread your legs!"

She screamed for him to stop, but Lucas increased his speed instead. He drove into her with the kind of strength and stamina that came from weeks sealed inside the capsule. Every thrust shook the frame of the bed. The girl’s moans blurred into incoherent sound as pleasure and pain overtook her. When she climaxed again, her whole body trembled, and she slumped forward on the mattress, out cold like the others.

Lucas slid out of her, uncaring, stretching his neck as he scanned the room for the next warm body.

He barely took a step before someone pounded on the door.

"Lucas. Open the door."

Lucas rolled his eyes and stomped toward the door, unlocking it with a lazy swipe.

Aldric stood there wearing a formal suit, looking primed for the engagement ceremony. The moment the door opened and he looked inside, the old man’s eyes widened. He wasn’t shocked— he had lived long enough to see worse — but the disappointment on his face was unmistakable.

"Unbelievable..." Aldric muttered as he took in the room. "Are you out of your mind? The ceremony begins soon. Why aren’t you dressed?"

Lucas shrugged. "Relax, Grandpa. There’s still time. I’ve been locked in that damn capsule for weeks. I’m making up for it."

"By surrounding yourself with every pleasure worker in the city?" Aldric snapped.

"Yes," Lucas answered simply. "And call them whores. No need to give them a fancy name just because they have a fancy price tag on them."

Aldric clenched his jaw. "Lucian will be furious if you walk in late."

"Then tell him fuck off," Lucas replied, already closing the door. "I don’t care about this Ceremony, anyway. Now, let me enjoy myself."

"Lucas—!" Aldric barked, but the door clicked shut in his face.

Lucas turned back toward the bed, stepping over discarded lingerie and empty bottles. He glanced around to check if there were any movements from the girls.

He saw a girl, awake and watching him with a horrified look on her face.

"Can I leave?" she asked breathlessly.

"Oh, you cum dump," Lucas said as he crawled onto the bed and pulled her under him, "I’m just getting started."

And once again, the room was filled with screams and cries disguised as moans.