Lucas’s Other Plan
As Lucas administered punch after violent blow to the man who was lying hopelessly on the ground, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. The victim was unable to defend himself.

Lucas paid no attention to the cut that ran across the man's cheek or the blood that dripped from it, which stained both his shirt and his jeans. Instead, he drove his fist into the man's ribs as hard as he could with every bit of muscle he possessed.

Each blow he delivered was propelled by wrath and despair, and he felt the weight of the situation crushing down on him like an insurmountable load.

Because Mr. Black insisted that he would be the one to deal with Arnold, and Lucas was relegated to the supporting role, he was forced to stifle the emotional whirlwind that raged inside him. He had no choice but to do so. Having to deal with leftovers like these. And he wouldn't go so far as to say that he enjoyed it, but damn did he take pleasure in the fact that he could punch and kill anybody got in his
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