Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 89: A New Threat

Liam’s hands gripped the steering wheel of Tasha’s Honda Civic, his knuckles white against the black leather.

He couldn’t believe he’d just done that.

He’d had sex with Elsa’s mother. Diana. In her house. On the living room couch. While Elsa was upstairs. While her husband was asleep down the hall.

And this morning, he’d sat across from Elsa at breakfast, smiled at her, thanked Diana for the pancakes, and acted like nothing had happened.

’At least, I got something awesome out of it.’

But even as the thought crossed his mind..

He’d do it again if he had the chance.

That was the truth of it, undeniable truth.

He also remembered Kelvin’s text from that morning, the one that had come through right before he’d left Elsa’s place.

He glanced down and snatched his phone from the cup holder, pulling up the message just to make sure he hadn’t misread it.

Kelvin~ Yo, gotta cancel today. Found some new info but need more time to confirm. Getting to you for sure though. Trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.

Liam sighed and tossed the phone back where he’d found it, watching it land with a dull thunk against the plastic.

Great. So now he had time to deal with this instead.

Now that he was the leader of a gang now.

A gang.

Just thinking about it drained him.

Now he was driving across the city to handle gang business because one of Shay’s guys had called him saying there was a situation.

A situation that apparently required the boss.

Him.

’This is insane. I actually have to lead this guys?’

He turned onto the street Shay had given him directions to, and the neighborhood shifted immediately.

The buildings were older here, their brick facades crumbling at the corners, the paint peeling in long, curling strips that revealed layers of color beneath—faded yellows, greens, browns from decades past.

Graffiti covered the walls in overlapping tags and symbols, some fresh and bright, others weathered and barely visible beneath newer markings.

Chain-link fences surrounded empty lots filled with trash and rusted shopping carts, their metal frames twisted and broken. Weeds pushed through cracks in the concrete sidewalks, reaching toward the gray sky above.

The street itself was pitted with potholes, some filled with murky water from a recent rain.

A few cars lined the curbs, most of them old sedans with dented bumpers and missing hubcaps.

One had no wheels at all, sitting on cinder blocks like it had been there for years.

Up ahead, he saw them.

Two groups of men standing on opposite sides of the street, facing each other.

The tension was visible even from a distance, their postures rigid, their hands at their sides like they were ready to reach for something at any moment.

On the left, he recognized a few faces from Shay’s crew. On the right, another group. Smaller. Maybe six or seven guys.

But something was off about them.

They were wearing something on their faces. Liam squinted, trying to make it out as he got closer.

Masks.

White masks.

’What the hell?’

Liam pulled the Civic to the curb and cut the engine. He sat there for a moment, staring at the scene in front of him, his hands still gripping the wheel.

The masks were smooth, featureless except for two eye holes and a thin slit for the mouth.

They looked almost theatrical, like something out of a horror movie. The white surface caught what little light filtered through the overcast sky, making them stand out starkly against the drab surroundings.

’Those masks... they remind me of something.’

Liam frowned, trying to place the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

Not exactly like any movie he’d seen, but there was something unsettling about the blank, expressionless faces. Something deliberate in the choice to hide their identities this way.

’Who are these guys?’

He’d never seen them before. Didn’t recognize any of them. But the fact that they were here, standing off with Shay’s crew, meant they were a problem.

Liam took a breath, then opened the door and stepped out.

The cold air hit him immediately, carrying the smell of damp concrete and something sour—garbage, maybe, or sewage from a backed-up drain somewhere nearby.

One of shay men immediately broke away from the group and walked toward him.

"Boss," the guy said. "They’re waiting for you inside."

Liam nodded, his eyes still moving over the masked crew. They didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge him.

Just stood there like statues, their arms hanging loosely at their sides, their heads turned slightly toward him but otherwise motionless.

’Creepy.’

He walked past them, heading toward the building Shay’s crew was standing in front of. It was an old auto shop, the kind that looked like it hadn’t been operational in at least a decade.

The windows were boarded up with plywood that had warped and split over time, the edges pulling away from the nails that held them in place.

The paint was peeling in long strips, revealing the bare wood beneath.

A faded sign above the door read **Mike’s Auto Repair** in blocky red letters, though the "M" and the "e" had faded almost entirely, leaving it looking more like **ike’s Auto Repair**.

The concrete steps leading up to the door were cracked, with chunks missing from the edges. Weeds grew through the gaps, their stems brown and brittle from the cold.

Liam pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The interior was dim, lit only by a few bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling on frayed cords.

One of them flickered intermittently, casting uneven shadows across the space.

The air smelled like oil and rust, with an underlying note of mildew that suggested water damage somewhere in the walls or ceiling.

The floor was concrete, stained dark in places from years of leaked fluids—oil, antifreeze, transmission fluid. Old tools were scattered around: a rusted jack lying on its side, a toolbox with the lid missing, wrenches and ratchets covered in grime.

In the center of the room, two men stood facing each other.

Shay was on the left, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight. He looked pissed, his dark eyes narrowed, his shoulders squared like he was ready to throw a punch at any moment.

On the right was a man in a dark suit, his hands in his pockets. He wore one of those white masks, the same as the guys outside.

The smooth surface reflected the flickering light from the bulb overhead, making it hard to tell exactly where his eyes were looking.

Shay was mid-sentence when Liam walked in.

"I’m telling you, this is our territory. Has been for two years. You don’t just roll up and start—"

He stopped when he heard Liam’s footsteps on the concrete and turned.

Relief and irritation mixed on his face. "Took you long enough."

The masked man turned, his gaze landing on Liam. He went still for a moment, like he was processing what he was seeing—that Liam was actually here, standing in front of him.

Then he laughed.

It was a light, casual laugh, like Liam’s sudden appearance was the most amusing surprise he’d had all day.

And Liam’s stomach dropped.

’I know that laugh.’

The recognition hit him instantly—sharp and certain. He knew that voice, that posture, the way the guy tilted his head like everything was some private joke.

The masked man tilted his head slightly, studying Liam with an almost theatrical curiosity.

"So this is the leader you were talking about?" he said, his voice carrying an amused, mocking tone.

He gestured toward Liam like he was presenting him to an invisible audience, his hand sweeping through the air in an exaggerated motion.

Liam’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His pulse hammered in his ears.

The man took a step closer, his shoes scraping against the gritty concrete floor. Liam could see his eyes through the holes in the mask now. Dark. Sharp. Watching him with an intensity that made his skin prickle.

"Nice to see you again, kid," the man said.

Liam’s jaw tightened, his entire body going rigid.

’Mr. L.’

Shay’s head snapped toward Liam, his eyes narrowing with confusion and concern. "Wait. You two know each other?"

Before Liam could answer, Mr. L cut in, his voice still light and playful.

"Know each other? Oh, we go way back." He spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. "Don’t we, Liam?"

Shay looked between them, confusion clear on his face. "Really? So you guys are buddies or something?"

Liam’s voice came out flat, controlled, even though every muscle in his body was tense. "I want nothing more than to beat his ass right now."

Mr. L laughed again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the bare walls of the auto shop. "And I want nothing more than to do the same to you." He turned to Shay, gesturing toward Liam with a casual wave of his hand. "You see, Shay? We’re friends."

Shay didn’t look amused. He looked more confused, his eyes still moving between them, trying to piece together whatever history existed between his boss and this masked stranger.

Mr. L’s tone shifted then, the playfulness draining out of it like water through a sieve. His voice became quieter, colder, each word deliberate.

"But here’s the thing, kid," he said, his eyes locked on Liam through the mask. "I want to kill you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

Liam didn’t flinch. He just stared back, his jaw set, his hands still clenched into fists.

"But now that you’re the leader of the Berserk gang..." Mr. L continued, letting the sentence trail off meaningfully.

’Berserk gang? What kind of lame ass gang name is that?’

Liam kept his expression neutral, but internally he couldn’t help but think Shay had terrible taste.

"What does that mean?" Liam asked, his voice steady.

Mr. L tilted his head, considering the question like it was something profound.

Then he took another step closer, closing the distance between them until he was only a few feet away.

"It means," Mr. L said slowly, drawing out each word, "that we should have a little discussion before I decide whether or not to start a war against you guys."

Shay’s jaw tightened, his hands dropping to his sides. "A war? Over what? You’re the one pushing into our territory."

Mr. L didn’t even look at him. His eyes stayed locked on Liam, unblinking, unwavering.

"I’m not talking to you, Shay," Mr. L said dismissively, his voice dripping with condescension. "I’m talking to him."

He pointed at Liam, his finger extended like an accusation.

"Because he’s the one who embarrassed me. He’s the one who ignored my warning. He’s the one who beat my guys and made me look weak."

Liam’s mind flashed back to that night, the one where he’d beaten Mr. L’s guys to a pulp in an alley after they hurt Kelvin.

He remembered how he’d kept punching, over and over, until the guy’s face wasn’t recognizable anymore.

A smile tugged at his lips.

’Yeah. I did do that.’

Mr. L’s eyes caught the slight curl of Liam’s mouth, and something shifted in his expression—something darker.

His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper now, but somehow more menacing because of it.

"So before I burn everything you’ve achieved to the ground, I want to hear what you have to say for yourself."

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the bulbs overhead and the intermittent flicker of the one that couldn’t quite decide whether to stay lit.

Shay looked at Liam, waiting, his expression tense.

Mr. L looked at Liam, waiting, his body language relaxed but coiled, like a spring ready to snap.

And Liam realized that whatever he said next was going to determine whether this ended in words or blood.

He took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving the mask.

’Alright.’