Chapter 75 Stance
"You're Ross Oakley."
Peter turned, his expression shifting from surprise to a deepening frown as he took in the sight of the man standing before him.
The name "Ross Oakley" had been everywhere lately, and this young man's sudden rise to fame wasn't something he could ignore.
Peter knew that Ross might be the only person with the answers he desperately needed, and that realization both frustrated and unsettled him.
It was obvious that Ross had something to do with why Maya was like this. The fact that Ross, a well-known man with two girlfriends, was involved made the thought feel like acid and poison on Peter's tongue.
The tension in the room thickened, his discomfort obvious. There was something undeniably unsettling about Ross's arrival, as if the man had appeared at the exact moment Peter felt most vulnerable.
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"Come in," Peter said, gesturing with a stiff nod. "And close the door behind you." He couldn't risk anyone else intruding now, especially not in his girlfriend's condo.
With the questions circling his mind and Ross's unexpected presence, Peter needed control over the situation, and leaving the door open invited more disruption than he could handle.
As Ross stepped inside, Peter studied him carefully.
Ross wasn't classically handsome, but he carried himself with a refined sense of style and an unmistakable air of confidence.
Every detail of his appearance—from the sharp lines of his tailored jacket to the calm, assessing way he looked around the room—hinted at a self-assurance that only the truly powerful could afford.
It wasn't just confidence; it was command, the type of authority that only someone fully aware of their influence could possess.
Despite his youth, he seemed to wear his reputation as if it were a second skin, and the way he moved made it clear he knew he was a lion among sheep.
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Peter observed him intently, his gaze narrowing as he measured the young man's aura against his own physical presence.
Peter's years of intensive training had built him into a man who was no stranger to confrontation, and he had faced his share of confident figures, both in the criminal world and among high-achievers.
While Ross's presence was unsettling, Peter wasn't intimidated.
He had the height taller than Ross, the muscle, and the experience, and he knew that if things turned physical, he wouldn't be the one backing down.
"Care to tell me what this is all about?" Peter asked, his voice firm and unyielding as he folded his arms. He made sure to enunciate each word with barely concealed irritation, especially when he added, "Why are you in my girl's place?"
Ross's lips curved into a smirk as he casually crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the doorframe as though he owned the place. The amusement in his eyes only deepened as he looked at Peter, clearly relishing the tension in the air.
"Heh," he chuckled, his tone dismissive. "Why are you asking me? Maybe you should be asking your girlfriend, Maya, instead."
The words hung heavily between them, Ross's smirk never faltering as he held Peter's gaze, unflinching and unapologetic.
"Maya?" Peter turned, his voice sharp, his gaze locking onto her with the intensity of someone who both demanded and feared the truth.
Maya's face flushed as she looked away, struggling to find her voice. Her silence spoke volumes, and Ross seized the moment, stepping forward with a smug glint in his eye.
"Maya is now my bitch. My slut. My come dump," Ross declared, savoring each word as he threw it at Peter, his smirk widening as he watched the disbelief and fury flash across Peter's face.
"You arrogant, spoiled brat!" Peter snarled, fury igniting in his eyes. "You think you can just walk in here and say that?" Without a second thought, he lunged at Ross, intent on grabbing him by the collar, planning to hoist him off his feet and remind him who was in control.
But as his hands closed in, Ross remained completely unfazed, almost amused, his confidence unsettlingly unwavering.
Then, in one swift motion, Ross countered with a brutal, calculated kick.
"Bang!" His foot connected squarely with Peter's groin, the impact reverberating through Peter's entire body. The pain was blinding, a white-hot burst that seized every nerve and stole the air from his lungs.
Peter's hands shot to his lower abdomen, his breath catching as the agony spread like wildfire.
The world spun, and he stumbled, vision darkening as he doubled over, collapsing to the floor like a fish pulled from water, gasping desperately for air.
The pain in his core throbbed with relentless intensity, each heartbeat amplifying the ache until it felt as though his entire body was consumed by it.
"Ahhh… ahhh… hak!" he finally managed to gasp, dragging in a ragged breath that barely reached his lungs before another wave of pain crashed over him.
The scream that tore from his throat filled the room, a raw, agonized sound that reverberated off the walls, spilling out into the silence that had settled in the condo.
Ross watched him, arms crossed, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as Peter lay on the floor, writhing in pain.
Ross stepped forward, his predatory intent clear as he loomed over Peter's crumpled form. The smirk on his face widened as he relished the scene, savoring the power he held over the once-confident man. He moved with deliberate slowness, as if to prolong Peter's humiliation, preparing to deal more damage.
But just as he raised his foot, a sharp voice cut through the tension.
"Stop! Don't hurt him!"
Ross turned his head slightly, his expression shifting to one of mild amusement as Maya burst into action. Adrenaline fueled her movements as she darted toward him, her speed surprising even herself.
With a determined shout, Maya launched a swift right punch aimed squarely at his face.
"Whoosh!" Ross swayed back with effortless grace, the punch missing by a fraction of an inch. His smirk deepened, his movements unhurried, as though he had anticipated her every move.
But Maya wasn't deterred. She had no time for hesitation. The moment her punch missed, she rolled with the momentum, pivoting sharply and dropping into a low crouch beside Peter's prone body. Her sharp eyes locked onto the firearm at his side.
Without missing a beat, she snatched it up in one smooth motion.
Fingers moving deftly, she flicked the safety off and rose to one knee, her stance solid, the weapon aimed at Ross's last position.
Her breaths came fast, her heart pounding in her ears, but her hands were steady.
"Got you," she muttered under her breath.