Master of Lust

Chapter - 255

Sharon narrowed her eyes as she rounded the corner, only to realise Rick's Range Rover had slipped from her view. "Where did he go?" she muttered under her breath, her heart picking up pace as frustration kicked in. She slowed her Harley, her fingers tightening around the handlebars, scanning the shady neighbourhood for any sign of him.

The area grew eerier with every passing moment—broken windows, crumbling buildings, and graffiti-splattered walls surrounded her, casting long shadows in the deserted streets. The deeper she rode into the neighbourhood, the more desolate and unsettling it became. It was the kind of place where shady deals could go down unnoticed, where anyone could disappear without a trace. Perfect, Sharon thought, "Now I can catch him red handed, whatever he might be doing here!"

Her eyes flicked across every dark corner and cracked alley, her mind spinning with possibilities. Rick had to be close—he wouldn't just vanish.

As she inched further down the path, a sinking realization hit her. The lane ahead narrowed, and the walls on either side seemed to close in, leading to a single, undeniable conclusion: she was heading into a one-way dead end. Sharon's eyes widened as she spotted Rick's scratched-up Range Rover, parked ominously before a broken-down, abandoned house.

Her breath hitched. She pulled her Harley to a slow stop, parking it a safe distance away. The car stood still, but something felt off. The driver's seat was too still, too empty. There was no sign of Rick.@@novelbin@@

"He's here... somewhere," she whispered to herself, swinging her leg over the bike and quietly stepping off. Sharon's pulse quickened as she glanced back toward the silent, crumbling surroundings. She needed to move in quietly.

Her heart pounded harder as she slipped her camera out, ready to record whatever dirty secret Rick was hiding. This was it. She'd finally catch him.

Sharon moved carefully, her high biking boots making only the faintest whisper of sound against the cracked pavement. Each step was deliberate, calculated, as she kept her senses sharp, alert to every little detail around her. Her eyes darted around the deserted lane, scanning the surroundings with the precision of a silent predator stalking its prey.

Sharon's breath was shallow as she neared the Range Rover. She stopped just short of it, casting a sharp glance through the windows. Her eyes swept over the empty seats, confirming what she already knew—Rick wasn't inside. But where was he?

She checked around once more, scanning the rooftops and alleyways for any sign of movement, any indication of Rick. Nothing. She was alone. So far.

With a deep breath, she turned her gaze toward the crumbling building in front of her, the one Rick's car was parked in front of. It looked like a skeleton of a place, with shattered windows and vines crawling up the brickwork. The air was thick with abandonment, and the structure loomed before her like a forgotten relic, its secrets buried deep inside. "Rick must be inside", she assured herself, "and whatever dirty business he is involved in, I will catch him red handed!"

As Sharon crept further into the decaying building, her breath steady but her nerves tense, she heard something—a faint murmur, barely audible over the stillness. She froze, straining her ears to catch it. There it was again. The hushed voices of men, low and intense, arguing in the distance. The words weren't clear at first, but the tone was unmistakable—threatening.

She concentrated harder, trying to make out the conversation. The voices were quiet, but laced with anger, and she picked up bits and pieces of the heated exchange.

"... You think this is a joke? You'll pay for this…"

"... I told you already, the deal's off unless…" Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

"... You better watch yourself, or you'll end up like the others."

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her movements controlled. She focused on the voice: four or five men; she couldn't be fully sure, but the intensity in their voices hinted that something was going down, something big. And Rick was likely right in the middle of it. Sharon's instincts kicked in, her body reacting before her mind fully processed the danger. Her hand slowly moved to the holster at her hip, fingers brushing over the cool metal of her gun. She didn't draw it yet, but she kept it close, ready for anything.

With slow, deliberate steps, she moved closer to where the voices were coming from, careful to avoid any sound that could give her away. Her breathing was shallow, her focus sharp. The shadows around her thickened as she approached the source of the argument, her gun still at the ready, each second intensifying her resolve.

The room was just ahead, the voices louder now, though still muted by the walls. Sharon pressed her back against the cold, cracked concrete, listening, trying to discern more of the conversation before making her move. She though she was close, so close.

Sharon stepped into the room, her camera raised and ready to capture whatever illegal dealings or confrontation were taking place. Her heart pounded as she expected to see Rick surrounded by thugs, or maybe some kind of exchange in progress. She was sure this was it—the moment she'd finally nab him.

But as soon as she crossed the threshold, she froze.

The room was empty.

No men, no Rick. Only silence greeted her.

She swept the camera across the space, searching for any signs of life or movement. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the eerie quiet. She was certain she had heard voices—angry, threatening voices. But the room held nothing but dusty, decaying furniture and crumbling walls.

As she took a step further inside, Sharon spotted something on the floor, right in the center of the room—a smartphone.

The realization hit her hard. The voices she had heard weren't from real people at all—they were from the phone.

Her muscles, once coiled and tense, loosened as she sighed in frustration. The tension in her body ebbed away, but her frustration spiked. She had been so sure this was her chance, so convinced Rick was just moments from being caught red-handed. Instead, she had walked straight into a trap, fooled.

Grunting in annoyance, Sharon lowered her camera and rubbed the back of her neck. "Dammit..." she muttered under her breath. She couldn't believe she had been duped like this, outsmarted by a man she had been chasing for days. It gnawed at her, the sting of being one step behind yet again.

Sharon bent down, her fingers brushing against the phone as she silenced the recording, the false voices disappearing into nothingness. She let out a frustrated breath, standing back up when she sensed something—a presence behind her.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She turned slowly, her eyes adjusting to the dim light of the crumbling room. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, barely visible but unmistakably familiar. It was Rick.

He leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, watching her with a smirk that sent a chill down her spine.

"I've had my fair share of girls falling for me, madly even," Rick began, his voice laced with mockery, smooth yet dangerous, filling the empty space between them. "But I've gotta say, none of them were crazy enough to stalk me… especially into a place like this."

A mocking chuckle escaped him, his laughter low and deliberate, echoing through the derelict walls.

Sharon's eyes narrowed as she straightened, her stance firm. "Laugh all you want, Rick," she said, her voice steady, "but let me remind you... when the tables turn, and they will, I'll be the one laughing."

Rick's smirk deepened. "Sent by Warner, huh? To 'take care of me?' He's always had a way of outso– his dirty work."

Sharon's grip tightened momentarily, but she kept her composure. "If I was with Warner," she shot back, her voice cold and deliberate, "you'd already be dead." She glanced around the decrepit room, its isolated nature emphasizing her point. "This place? It's perfect for that. No one around to hear a sound. No witnesses. No one to find your body.

"But that's not how I work," she continued. "Yes, I'm investigating you because it might help Warner, but I'm going to do it by the book. No dirty tricks, no shortcuts. I won't let anything shady happen under my watch." Her eyes locked onto his. "It might take time, but in the end, I'll get you. With all the evidence, every dirty detail, and when I do, there'll be no way out."

Rick chuckled, shaking his head as if he found her stance amusing. "An honest cop? Not swayed by Warner's money or influence? That's a rare sight to behold," he said, a teasing glint in his eye. "But if you're interested in knowing more about me, we could just chat over cups of coffee." He offered a smirk, clearly enjoying the banter.

Sharon scoffed, her patience wearing thin at his audacity. "I don't have time for your games, Rick," she snapped, turning on her heel and rushing out of the building.