L*ck Me If You Can-Chapter 107

Nausea.

That was the first thing he felt. As one sensation returned, the rest of his body screamed. It was as if something were crawling through his veins, gnawing at his organs. A rancid stench filled his nose, his head throbbed like it was splitting open, and dizziness overwhelmed him. His stomach churned, and a wave of nausea had him gagging and groaning in discomfort.

Haa, haa.

His ragged breath came in harsh gasps as he struggled to lift his eyelids—but he couldn’t see anything clearly. After blinking several times with effort, his vision finally began to focus.

The first thing he recognized was the familiar interior of a room. It took a little longer to realize it was his own. Slowly moving his gaze, he spotted an IV drip hanging beside the bed.

Following the tube down, he realized he was hooked up to something he couldn’t identify. He instinctively raised his other hand to touch the arm with the IV, but a sudden voice cut through the haze.

“Leave it. Unless you want to lose that arm.”

The frigid tone snapped his muddled consciousness back in an instant.

Ashley turned sharply toward the voice, eyes wide—and froze. Sitting in a chair a short distance away, a man was watching him.

Dominique Miller.

He repeated the name in his head, not daring to say it aloud. Silver hair that bordered on white, a towering frame just shy of two meters, and always dressed in an immaculate suit that concealed the solid build of a muscular body. It was unmistakably him.

In many ways, the man resembled Ashley. Or rather, Ashley resembled him. After all, he was Ashley’s origin.

Now, even down to the violet eyes.

At the thought, Ashley was seized by a sudden urge to scream. He glared with hatred at the man who had left him in this state. But Dominique merely curled his lip into a cold sneer.

“Try harder, will you? It’d be nice if you could entertain me the way ‘Ashley’ did.”

Ashley said nothing, instead clenching and unclenching his fist where the IV needle pierced his arm. He held himself back from throwing a punch over and over again. But now wasn’t the time. Of all times to be this weak...

Realizing that all the physical strength he’d built up through relentless training was completely useless now filled him with self-loathing. All he could do was lie there and glare at the man—just like ‘Ashley’ had.

Because that’s all ‘Ashley’ could do, too.

Dominique watched his son in silence for a moment before smiling faintly. Ashley always thought he resembled a snake—especially when he stared with those unblinking eyes and smiled only with his lips.

Just like now.

The chill crept down his spine as it always did. Ashley flinched slightly, and Dominique seemed pleased by the reaction as he opened his mouth again.

“You looked just lovely. Your condition, I mean.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The second part came more slowly, as if to emphasize how wrecked Ashley had been. He knew exactly how to soil someone’s dignity with the most refined of words. Dominique never cursed, never used vulgar language. He found it distasteful even when others did.

Why use crude words when one could drag someone to hell with elegance?

And of course, he knew it infuriated people more that way. That was why he did it—with such delight.

Ashley had experienced it firsthand too many times to count. And yet, the rage still flared. He knew it was what Dominique wanted—but he couldn’t help it.

Ashley clenched and unclenched his fist again, trying desperately to contain the surge of emotion. His strength was slowly returning. His body still felt wrecked, but...

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he landed a hit on that smug face. A small voice of reason reminded him that now wasn’t the time—that he’d managed to hold back all this time. But precisely because he had held back so long, he couldn’t anymore.

Suppressing the burning urge to punch him, Ashley forced himself to speak.

“What... did you... do to me.”

His words came out in pieces, labored and weak. Dominique glanced briefly at the IV.

“You’re getting your pheromones drained, my son.”

The gentle tone didn’t suit him at all. There couldn’t be another person in the world who spoke so coldly while calling someone ‘my son.’

Do all children of extreme alphas think the same way I do?

Ashley didn’t know. But what he did know for sure was this: even ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) if his father had never manifested, he would still have been a monstrous human being.

Dominique, already used to Ashley’s loathing and contempt, didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, he looked like he was enjoying it. He always found amusement in resistance, in defiance. Crushing and destroying those who opposed him was his favorite form of entertainment.

It was how he’d taken ‘Ashley,’ too.

But right now, Ashley had more pressing questions. Draining pheromones—through an IV? Was that even possible? As he blinked in confusion, Dominique suddenly stood up. The unexpected movement startled Ashley, though he remained tied to the bed. He could only watch helplessly as his father approached.

“There are plenty of ways to drain pheromones.”

Dominique stopped beside the bed, glancing at the IV. He sneered at the slow-dripping fluid, each droplet forming a tiny bubble.

“But now you understand why no one tries to do it through injections.”

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

...What?

Ashley blinked, startled. His head was a mess of dizziness and pain, but his father’s voice cut through it clearly. Just in case he had misheard, Dominique looked down at him and confirmed it.

“If you’d drained your pheromones properly at the party, you wouldn’t be in this state now.”

There wasn’t a trace of regret or sympathy in his tone. On the contrary, he seemed amused—almost bafflingly so. Ashley felt not just disgust and hatred—but fear.

He suddenly remembered why he had never been able to stand up to this man. The fear that had been beaten into him since childhood, that had made the very idea of resistance unthinkable. The terror that maybe, just maybe, he’d end up like ‘Ashley’ too.

And the sinking certainty that this man would absolutely make it happen.

I’m nothing but his property.

Just like ‘Ashley.’ As if branding a slave, Dominique had stamped his name onto his son.

Everyone who knew Dominique expected something like this. But what was strange was that it wasn’t the first name—he’d passed down his middle name. For someone as narcissistic as him, to put another’s name before his own was unthinkable.

The only name this cold, cruel man could ever say “I love you” to.

Even if it was in the most selfish, twisted way imaginable.

Ashley clenched his fist again. His strength was returning. Just a little more, and he’d be able to punch that smug face. Just a little more...

“What was so bad about it? All I asked was for you to drain your pheromones.”

Dominique tilted his head.

“It’s not like you don’t have any experience.”

He asked as if genuinely confused. Of course he didn’t understand. To his father, that act was nothing more than a pheromone release. How many extreme alphas even considered it to be sex? Maybe they knew and used that as an excuse anyway. Either way, Ashley didn’t care.

“I have someone... I love.”

The words came out in a hoarse whisper. Dominique narrowed his eyes.

“Ahhh...”

He let out a drawn-out sound of realization—but the way he dragged it out felt ominous. Staring down at Ashley, Dominique smiled faintly.

“You mean that mongrel?”