Daughter of oblivion: Claimed by four alpha(s)-Chapter 157 - 155: Be good for me baby

Rhydric stormed through the hallway, like a beast that has long been caged, and manages to free itself.

His movements was rushed, it was the controlled kind, and that was exactly what made it terrifying.

Every step he took echoed like a countdown.

Students flattened themselves against the walls as he passed. Conversations died mid-word. No one breathed too loudly, when Veylor is making an entrance, especially with his kind of precision.

Rhydric reached out suddenly and grabbed a male student by the collar, lifting him off the ground like he weighed nothing. The boy’s feet dangled uselessly as Rhydric’s icy eyes locked onto his face.

"Where. Is. Meadow? " Rhydric said with a deadly voice.

The boy’s entire body shook. "I...I d-don’t know... I swear—" His voice cracked. "I...I think I saw him at the principal’s office."

Rhydric released him without another word.

The boy collapsed to the floor, gasping, clutching his chest like he had just escaped death itself.

Rhydric walked straight to the principal’s office and slammed the door open with such force that the walls trembled.

The room froze.

The principal, Mrs. Queen shot to her feet in alarm.

Mr. Meadow went pale the moment Rhydric’s eyes landed on him. At that moment he knew he was dead. They all know the kind of position Rhydric’s father owns in that school.

Rhydric crossed the room in three strides and drove his fist straight into Meadow’s face.

The impact was brutal to the point that, Meadow slammed into the desk, his already ruined face split open again.

Mrs. Queen screamed. "R-Rhydric! You can’t...!"

Rhydric grabbed Meadow by the front of his shirt and yanked him upright.

"How dare you lay your hands on her."

Meadow whimpered. He had always wished that, If he wanted to die, atleast not in the hands on Rhydric.

Rhydric released him just long enough to pull a gun from the back of his trousers.

The room stopped breathing.

He pressed the barrel against Meadow’s forehead.

Mrs. Queen sobbed. "P-Please... put the gun down... this is a school...!"

Rhydric didn’t even look at her.

"Shut the fuck up," he said coldly. "You don’t get to speak while I’m still talking."

Mrs Queen swallowed her words.

Rhydric’s gaze returned to Meadow, his voice dropping into something far worse than shouting.

"You will get on your knees," he said. "In front of the entire school."

Meadow shook violently. "W-What...?"

"You will beg Athena," Rhydric continued, his eyes burning. "You will apologize for every finger you laid on her. For every breath you took after touching her."

Meadow sobbed. "P-Please... I...I didn’t..."

Rhydric pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Mrs. Queen screamed.

Meadow broke completely, terror emptying him out. His legs gave way as he nodded frantically. "I...I will—I swear...I’ll do it—I’ll beg—I’ll apologize...please..."

Rhydric lowered the gun slowly.

Then, without warning, he aimed it at the floor and fired.

Mrs Queen and Mr meadow flinched at the sudden gun shot.

The smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Rhydric slid the weapon back into his trousers like nothing had happened. He leaned down close to Meadow’s ear.

"If you ever look at her again," he murmured, "there won’t be a warning shot."

He straightened, turned, and walked out of the office without another glance.

Behind him, Meadow sobbed on the floor.

=====================

Oliver’s breath came out ragged as the cold water dripped from his hair down his face, soaking into his bare chest. His head snapped up to jianna.

And the fool was smiling. Does she really think this was funny?

He tried to moved, then he realised that his wrist were tied. And not only that, he could feel a sharp pain in his leg from the gun shot.

"What is the meaning of this?" Oliver demanded, his anger barely holding together the cracks of pain.

Jianna tilted her head slightly, as if she were studying him, as if this were a curious little inconvenience and not a man tied to a chair with a bullet in his leg.

"Baby..." she sighed fondly, stepping closer. Her heels clicked softly against the concrete floor. "Why do you always sound so angry when I’m just trying to have a conversation with you?"

Oliver’s lips curled. "Untie me. Now."

She laughed. A light, musical sound that echoed through the empty warehouse.

"Oh, no," Jianna said gently, reaching out to brush a wet strand of hair away from his forehead.

"You’re going to stay right there. I worked very hard to get you here."

He jerked his head away from her touch. "You fucking shot me."

She blinked at him, genuinely surprised. "I warned you," she replied mildly. "You kept pushing. You always do that. So stubborn... just like your father."

"You’re insane," Oliver spat.

Jianna hummed thoughtfully. "People say that when they don’t understand devotion."

She circled him slowly, like a predator that had already decided the hunt was over. "I told you, didn’t I? I told you that I love you... And yet... you still insisted on loving her."

She stopped in front of him and crouched so they were eye level. "That hurt my feelings, baby."

Oliver’s chest heaved. "You think hurting me will change anything? I love Athena. You can torture me, kill me... whatever sick game this is—it won’t change."

Jianna’s smile widened. "Oh, I know," she said softly. "That’s why you’re here."

Her hand slid up his thigh, until it reached where the bandage was. Oliver sucked in a breath, muscles tensing.

"You see," she continued sweetly, "I don’t need you to stop loving her. I just need you to understand that loving her comes with consequences."

She leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear.

"Continue to love her... And I won’t aim for your legs next time."

She pulled back, cupping his cheek affectionately, like a lover soothing her partner.

"So be good for me, baby," Jianna said with a smile. "Sit tight. We’re going to have a lot more time to talk."Jianna rose slowly from the chair, like she had all the time in the world.

She slipped her hands into the pocket of her pant, and pulled out her phone. She made a quick press on it and lifted it for him to see.

Oliver froze.

His breath hitched painfully in his chest.

On the screen was him, lying on the ground, his leg twisted unnaturally, blood pooling beneath him.

The way she took the photo, made it feel like he had been murdered.