Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 74: Big Money Move 1

"Not happening," Liam said, shaking his head as he moved toward the door.

Tasha’s eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Because you’re safer here."

"I’m going to lose my mind if I stay cooped up in this apartment for one more day, Liam." Her tone sharpened with frustration. "I’m already bored out of my skull."

"Better bored than in danger."

Tasha stepped closer, arms crossed. "I’d be safer with you. You know that."

Liam paused, his hand resting on the doorknob. He glanced down at the way his oversized shirt hung off her frame, stopping mid-thigh and showing off way too much leg.

"No," he said firmly. "You can’t come. You’re safer here where no one knows where you are."

Tasha tilted her head, studying him. "And what happens when they track you down and follow you back here? Then what? At least if I’m with you, I’ll know what’s happening instead of sitting here waiting to get killed."

Liam held her gaze for a long moment.

She had a point—a small one, but a point nonetheless.

He let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. But you grab that cap and a mask, and you don’t say anything unless I tell you to. Got it?"

She nodded quickly.

"I’m serious, Tasha. If you start talking or drawing attention, I’m turning around and bringing you straight back here."

The drive took about thirty minutes.

Liam kept his eyes on the road while Tasha sat in the passenger seat with the black cap pulled low and the mask covering her nose and mouth. She stared out the window as the city rolled past.

The buildings shifted from residential blocks to wider streets lined with older commercial properties.

Fewer people on the sidewalks, more trucks parked along the curbs, businesses with roll-up doors and loading bays instead of storefronts.

Liam turned onto Bennett Street.

The road was wider here, the asphalt cracked and patched.

The buildings were lower, squatter—red brick and concrete faded to dull rust and gray. An auto body shop with three cars out front.

A warehouse with a faded sign reading **Harris Industrial Supply**. A commercial kitchen with steamed-up windows.

Liam slowed as he scanned the street numbers.

**1147**.

He spotted it on the right—a two-story brick building with a flat roof and narrow windows on the ground floor.

The brick was dark, almost maroon where the sun hit it. Paint peeled off the front door in long strips.

A man in a gray suit stood in front, checking his watch.

Late forties, salt-and-pepper hair slicked back.

When Liam’s car pulled up, the man straightened, eyes tracking the vehicle.

Liam parked along the curb and killed the engine.

He exhaled slowly and reached for the door handle.

"Stay in the car," he said, glancing at Tasha.

Her head swung left, then right—a sharp shake of disagreement.

Liam sighed. "Fine. Just don’t say anything."

She didn’t respond, just pulled the cap lower and climbed out.

Liam stepped out and walked toward the building.

Small gravel lot with a sagging chain-link fence at the back. Worn loading door. Narrow barred windows on the ground floor.

He scanned it quickly, then turned and walked back to the front where the man in the suit was watching him with careful eyes.

Liam extended his hand. "Hello. You must be Mr. Davies."

The man blinked, then reached out with a firm but brief grip. His palm was slightly damp.

"Yes. Davies." His voice was smooth, practiced. "And you’re... Mr. Liam?"

"Just Liam is fine."

Davies nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on Liam’s face a beat too long. "It’s... good to finally meet you."

Liam could see it clearly—the surprise, the recalculation happening behind the man’s eyes. Davies had been expecting someone older.

"I hope I’m not too far off from what you were expecting," Liam said evenly.

Davies cleared his throat and straightened his tie. "No, no. Not at all. I just... based on our conversation, I suppose I pictured someone a bit... older." He forced a smile. "But age doesn’t always reflect capability, does it? Shall we take a look inside?"

"Yeah. Let’s do that."

Davies pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door, pushing it open with a creak.

The smell hit immediately: dust, old concrete, something faintly metallic.

Liam stepped inside.

The ground floor was wide and open, high ceilings supported by thick steel beams.

Polished concrete floor, scuffed and stained. Bare brick walls. On the far side sat the garage door, and beside it, a metal staircase leading to the second floor.

Liam walked slowly through the room. He crouched near the back corner and ran his hand along the base of the wall, checking for moisture.

Dry and solid.

He moved to the windows, testing the bars. Bolted into brick and it didn’t budge.

But the glass was a problem. Old, single-pane, and one pane had condensation trapped between layers.

He walked to the electrical panel on the wall and opened it.

The wiring inside looked outdated—cloth-wrapped cables instead of modern insulation.

He turned and climbed the metal staircase.

The second floor opened into a wide room with tall windows along one wall. Bright, warm light—but the floor sagged slightly near the center when he walked across it.

He walked to the windows and tested a frame. It rattled in its housing.

He stood there for a moment, jaw tight, then headed back downstairs.

Davies waited near the front door, hands in his pockets. Tasha stood beside him, silent, arms crossed.

Liam stopped in front of Davies. "This isn’t what I’m looking for."

Davies blinked. "I’m sorry?"

"I told you what I needed on the phone. Structurally sound with minimal issues. This place has outdated wiring, settling floors, broken window seals."

Davies shifted uncomfortably, fingers drumming against his leg. "Well, yes, but—"

"You told me there was another property," Liam interrupted. "The one I described. You said it was perfect. Then you mentioned this one. So why are we here instead of there?"

Davies’s expression tightened. He glanced at Tasha, then back at Liam, and let out a slow breath. "I thought this one might be a better starting point."

"I didn’t ask for a starting point. I asked for what I described. So take me to the other property."

Davies rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting to the side. "Look, I’m... not sure you’d want to see that one."

Liam frowned. "Why not?"

"It’s just..." Davies hesitated, then lowered his voice.

"There’s a gang that controls that area. They run protection on every business within a three-block radius. Monthly payments, the whole operation. But that’s not even the real problem."

He paused, wiping his palm on his pants.

"The real problem is what they demand from anyone new trying to move in. They call it a territory fee. Before you can even open your doors, before you move a single piece of equipment inside, you have to pay them. And I’m not talking about a few thousand dollars."

Davies shook his head slowly.

"The last buyer who made it far enough to get a quote? They wanted seventy-five thousand dollars. Upfront. Just for permission to exist in their territory. And that’s before any of the monthly protection payments even start."

Liam said nothing, just watched him.

Davies continued, his voice dropping further.

"It’s extortion, plain and simple. But nobody will testify. The businesses already operating there just pay quietly and keep their heads down. But anyone trying to buy in? They hear that number and walk away immediately. I’ve had three separate deals fall apart because of it. Same gang, same demand, same result every time."

He met Liam’s eyes. "That’s why I brought you here first. I thought maybe you’d take this place and we could avoid the whole mess."

Liam held his gaze for a long moment.

"I can handle it."

Davies blinked. "I’m sorry?"

"I said I can handle it. If the property fits what I need, then take me there."

Davies stared at him. "Mr. Liam, I don’t think you understand what you’re—"

"I understand perfectly," Liam cut him off. "You’re worried about a gang demanding money. I’m telling you I can handle it. So take me to the property."

Davies’s mouth opened slightly, then closed.

His fingers tapped nervously against his thigh, and for a moment he just stood there, searching Liam’s face like he was trying to figure out if this kid was serious or insane.

Then he let out a long, shaky breath and shook his head. "Alright. Fine. But when they show up asking for seventy-five thousand dollars, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

He locked the front door, and they walked back to their cars.

---

Liam climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Tasha climbed in beside him, silent.

"This place was a bust," Liam said as he followed Davies’s car out of the lot. "Hopefully the next one’s better."

Tasha didn’t respond right away. She just stared out the window.

After a few moments, she finally spoke.

"I knew this place wasn’t right." She paused. "And are you really going to give those thugs that kind of money?"

Liam glanced at her. "Wait—you knew it wasn’t right?"

"From the moment we got here. I didn’t know why we were here until you started talking to him, but the second you did, I knew it wouldn’t work. The building, the neighborhood—none of it fits what you need."

Liam’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel. "Why didn’t you say something?"

Tasha turned to look at him, her eyes visible just beneath the shadow of the cap. "You told me to keep quiet. So that’s what I did."

Liam opened his mouth, then closed it. He let out a short breath and shook his head.

"You still haven’t answered my question," Tasha pressed. "Are you really going to give them that kind of money?"

Liam looked at her wide a wide grin tugging his lip

"Don’t worry it’s going to be fine." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "Opening this shop is my dream, and I’m not letting some gang stop me from making it happen."

Tasha studied his profile for a long moment.

She’d seen him fight before taking down four armed men. It hadn’t been easy, and it hadn’t been clean, but he’d done it. But this wasn’t four men.

This was a gang. People who wouldn’t just come at him once and disappear.

She opened her mouth to say something, to warn him, but then she caught the look in his eyes. That quiet, unshakable determination.

She closed her mouth and turned back to the window.