Lust System: I will Cuck Everyone

Morning sunlight cut across the Peninsula’s lobby as the clock hit ten. Rick stepped out of the private VIP elevator in the same black t-shirt and dark jeans as the night before, looking far too relaxed for a man who owned more than half the building.

He was heading for coffee when he heard heels clicking fast across the marble.

"Rick! Wait!"

Lexi came rushing toward him in a tight yellow sundress that did almost nothing to hide the bounce of her chest or the sway of her hips. The streaming gimbal was already live in her right hand. The chat was scrolling before she even reached him.

[MorningMunchies: THERE HE IS. THE MAN, THE MYTH , TYE LEGEND.]

[YellowDressEnjoyer: that sundress is a crime]

[BikerWatch: mysterious billionaire spotted in the wild]

She stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath, cheeks already pink.

"I’ve been waiting for you all morning."

Rick slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled.

"Did you miss the sliders that much, Judge? Or just the way I fed them to you?"

Lexi’s thighs pressed together. The memory of the kitchen counter last night hit her hard enough that her professional smile wobbled.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, glancing at the camera, trying to stay composed. "For last night. For Brad. For the food. So I told chat I’m taking you shopping. Proper clothes. My treat."

Rick’s eyebrows rose, clearly entertained.

"You’re going to play sugar mommy for the Head Chef. Bold."

Before he could say more, a snooty head waiter in a tuxedo marched over, nose already in the air. He looked Rick up and down like he was a delivery driver who had wandered in by mistake.

"Excuse me, sir. This is the Peninsula’s elite dining hall. Casual attire is not permitted. I’ll have to ask you to leave."

Lexi gasped. The chat exploded.

[KickHimOut?: they don’t even know]

[WaiterAboutToLearn: oh no. WAS HE BRAGGING ALL ALONG? POOR LEXI!]

[LexiDefenseForce: don’t you dare]

Rick didn’t argue. He didn’t flash a card. He reached out, plucked a stained apron off a passing busboy’s cart, and tossed it gently but firmly into the waiter’s face.

The man stumbled back, ripping the rag away, already halfway to outrage — until he actually looked at Rick properly.

"Take that and go check the bathrooms," Rick said, still pleasant. "Nobody tells me where I can walk in my own hotel."

The waiter went pale. Recognition finally hit.

Rick didn’t wait for the apology. He slid an arm around Lexi’s waist and pulled her against his side, then looked straight into the gimbal.

"Come on, critic. Let’s go spend your money."

Lexi made a small sound that was definitely not professional and let him walk her out.

---

Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of Armand & Co., the kind of boutique that charged extra just to let you breathe the air.

Half the chat was already roasting him.

[GigoloWatch: he’s letting her buy his clothes LMAO]

[BasementAccountant: bro has no shame]

[AlphaAnyway: who cares did you see the waiter]

Rick glanced at the screen, then at the lens, and grinned.

"You can keep score from your couches. I’ll be inside with her."

He pushed the doors open and pulled Lexi in.

A tall clerk in a tailored vest spotted them immediately. His eyes went from Lexi’s dress to Rick’s t-shirt and decided everything he needed to know.

"Welcome to Armand & Co. If you’re looking for something more... affordable... last season is near the back exit."

Lexi frowned.

"We want your best executive suits."

The clerk gave a dry little scoff.

"Our Italian cuts start at ten thousand. That may be a bit outside your companion’s range."

Rick didn’t get angry. He actually looked delighted, like a man watching someone walk into a trap of their own making.

The clerk folded his hands behind his back, already tasting victory.

"Miss, I recognise the camera. Influencers come through here often. They film, they touch the fabrics, they leave. If you are here for content, I can show you the display pieces. You may not try them on."

Lexi’s smile went tight.

"I’m Lexi Sterling. I don’t need display pieces. I asked for your best."

The clerk tilted his head, pretending to think.

"Lexi Sterling... I’m sure that’s a familiar name to someone. Unfortunately, in this store, a name on a phone screen does not open the private collection. Our Naples line is twenty-eight thousand a suit. The Milan evening cut is forty-five. The limited charcoal with hand-stitched lapels is sixty. People who belong here do not arrive in a t-shirt."

A few other customers had started watching. The chat was already splitting.

[ClerkAboutToDie: this man is digging his grave]

[NameDropFail: they don’t even know Lexi??]

[SuitSnob: 60k for a jacket I can’t even afford socks]

Rick leaned in toward the gimbal, voice light enough that the whole store could still hear him.

"Hear that, Judge? All those followers and he still thinks you’re a girl filming try-on hauls in the mall. Maybe you’re not that famous after all."

Lexi shot him a look that was half glare, half flustered heat.

"You are not helping."

"I’m helping plenty," Rick said. "He’s about to learn two things. One, who you are. Two, I’m worse."

The clerk’s smile turned thinner.

"Sir, if you cannot produce a membership or a reservation, I must ask you not to waste the staff’s time. Security can escort you to the high-street stores downstairs. They have very nice shirts on sale."

Lexi stepped forward.

"Bring the Naples, the Milan, and the charcoal. All in his size. And the leather oxfords to match."

The clerk laughed under his breath.

"Miss, that is over one hundred and eighty thousand dollars before tax. I will not pull restricted inventory for a joke."

Rick walked past both of them, unhurried, and ran his fingers along a rack of dark wool like he was choosing tomatoes at a market.

"Then don’t pull it for a joke," he said. "Pull it because I’m buying it."

The clerk opened his mouth.

Rick didn’t raise his voice. He just looked at the man the way he had looked at Brad on the sidewalk.

"Naples. Milan. Charcoal. The oxfords. And that watch in the case — the one you keep angling away from people you don’t like. Ring it up."

The clerk’s professional mask cracked, just a little.

"You... you cannot be serious."

"I am extremely serious," Rick said, already amused. "And if you make my critic stand here for another minute while you decide whether a t-shirt can afford you, I’m going to buy the suits and then ask your manager why his employee talks so much."

Lexi was staring at him now, camera still rolling, lips slightly parted.

The clerk, sweating, still tried to salvage his face.

"Even if I process it, the card will decline. People like you always—"

The heavy glass doors slammed open.

"Are you kidding me, Lexi?!"

Brad stomped in, flashy jacket, gold card already in his uninjured hand, the other wrist still wrapped in last night’s cast. He looked thrilled to have caught them.

"You really downgraded from me to a street rat? Are you buying him clothes so he doesn’t smell like a dumpster?"

"Shut up, Brad," Lexi snapped, gripping the gimbal tighter.

Brad ignored her completely and puffed his chest out, playing to the small crowd that had already gathered.

"Do you know who I am?" he said, loud enough for the whole boutique. "I am Bradley Harrington. My father sits on three boards in this city. One word from me and this store loses its lease. One word from me and this t-shirt clown gets dragged out by his collar."

He pointed his good hand at Rick like he was pointing at a stray dog.

"Yesterday you got lucky. Today you’re standing in a place you don’t belong, hanging off a woman who used to be mine. Kneel, apologise, and walk out. Do that, and I might let you keep your other wrist."

The clerk bowed so fast he almost hit the counter.

"Young master Harrington! Of course! I’ll have security—"

Brad kept going, drunk on his own voice.

"You don’t know the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth. A frog at the bottom of a well sees a circle of sky and thinks that’s the world. Lexi is a jade that a beggar like you should never touch. If you don’t scram right now, I will cripple what is left of you and make sure your name never enters another building in this district."

The chat was already losing it.

[YoungMasterDetected: DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM classic]

[FrogInAWell: he actually said the frog line]

[SecondWrist: he’s threatening the guy who broke the first one]

Rick looked at Brad for a long, quiet second.

Then he smiled, almost kindly.

"Who are you again?"

Brad’s face froze.

"I just told you—"

"You told me your father’s name," Rick said, still pleasant.

"I asked who you are."