I Dominated After Prison

CHAPTER 6

“If this is real…” he murmured under his breath, his voice low and uncertain, “…then  this changes everything.”

He looked down at the card again, turning it slightly between his fingers. It looked so ordinary. So simple. And yet, according to Andrea Rogers, it held more wealth than most countries.

Lucas gave a faint, disbelieving shake of his head.

“I could eat,” he said softly,  reminding himself. “I could get proper clothes… a place to sleep… a house.”

He paused, his jaw tightening slightly as another thought crept into his mind.

“A fresh new start as the world's second richest man .”

For the first time since leaving prison, the crushing weight of uncertainty began to lift slightly from his chest. 

He imagined walking into a fine restaurant, ordering anything he wanted without checking the price. 

He imagined stepping into a high-end boutique,buying expensive clothes without thinking about the cost, choosing clothes that actually fit him, that made him look rich and important.

But just as quickly as those thoughts came, something else forced its way into his mind.

Maya.

Her face appeared vividly before him, her cold expression, her dismissive tone, the cruel words she had spoken without hesitation.

Lucas’s grip on the card tightened.

“If only you knew…” he said quietly, his voice carrying bitterness. “If only you knew who I am now.”

He let out a short, bitter scoff.

“Would it change anything?” he asked himself. “Would you come running back to me? Would you suddenly remember that you loved me?”

The thought made something twist painfully in his chest.

He shook his head sharply, as he was trying to push the image away.

Before he could sink deeper into those thoughts, the sound of footsteps approaching broke his focus.

Lucas looked up.

A man was walking past with a small child, a little girl who looked no older than six or seven. She held tightly onto the man’s hand at first, but as they drew closer to Lucas, her curious eyes wandered toward him.

She slowed her steps.

“Daddy,” the little girl said softly, tugging at the man’s hand, “who is that?”

Lucas remained still, watching them quietly.

The man followed her gaze, and the moment his eyes landed on Lucas, his expression changed instantly. Suspicion replaced neutrality.

“Don’t look,” the man said quickly, pulling the girl slightly closer to him.

But the child, driven by innocent curiosity, took a small step toward Lucas.

“He looks sad,” she said gently.

Before she could take another step, the man suddenly pulled her back more firmly.

“I said don’t go near him,” he snapped, his tone sharp.

The girl blinked in confusion. “Why?” she asked.

The man lowered his voice, but it was still loud enough for Lucas to hear clearly.

“Look at what he’s wearing,” the man said. “Those are prison clothes. He’s probably a prisoner who escaped.”

Lucas froze.

The words struck him harder than he expected.

The little girl’s eyes widened slightly. “A prisoner?” she repeated.

“Yes,” the man said quickly, nodding. “Stay away from people like that. They’re dangerous.”

Lucas opened his mouth slightly, about to speak, about to correct him, but the man had already turned away, pulling the child along.

“Come on,” he said firmly. “We’re leaving.”

The girl glanced back once more, her expression uncertain, but she said nothing as she allowed herself to be led away.

Within seconds, they disappeared into the night.

Silence returned.

Lucas remained standing there, his body still, his expression unreadable.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze to himself.

His clothes.

The thin, worn fabric. The faded color. The unmistakable look of prison attire.

He let out a quiet breath.

“So that’s how the world sees me now, first Andrea and her family now this man and his daughter,” he said softly.

He was a prisoner in their eyes.

Lucas lowered his gaze slowly and stared at his reflection in a puddle at his feet. 

The image staring back at him was distorted by ripples in the water, but it was still clear enough to remind him of what the world saw, a broken man in worn-out prison clothes.

For a brief moment, he said nothing. Then he drew in a slow breath.

“I need new clothes,” he added firmly.

Without wasting another second, Lucas slipped the black card securely into his pocket and began walking toward the street.

After walking for several minutes, he finally spotted a boutique.

But as he drew closer, his steps gradually slowed.

He turned away in disappointment and continued walking.

A few streets later, he came across another boutique. 

This one looked even more luxurious, with elegant displays arranged behind large glass windows, showcasing expensive clothing under interior lighting.

But as he stepped closer, his shoulders dropped slightly.

Closed.

He exhaled quietly and ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Great,” he said dryly. “The one night I actually became so rich is the night I can't seem to find an opened boutique to get clothes to buy…”

Just as he was about to turn, he heard the sound of a bell.

He paused.

The sound rang out again.

Curious, Lucas turned his head and scanned the street until his gaze landed on a small cart positioned near the corner.

A man stood beside it, ringing a small hand bell repeatedly while calling out to passersby.

“Clothes! Clothes for sale!” the man shouted energetically. “Good quality thrift! Only one dollar! Come and see!”

Lucas blinked slowly.

Thrift clothes?

He hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure.

Then his eyes drifted back toward the closed boutique.

“…I don’t really have a choice,” he muttered to himself.

With a small sigh, he began walking toward the cart.

As he got closer, he noticed that the clothes were arranged in neat piles, shirts, trousers, jackets, slightly worn out.

The man behind the cart noticed him immediately and broke into a wide smile.

“Ah! Hey Mr!” he said enthusiastically. “Come, come! Everything here is very affordable and strong. You won’t regret it!”

Lucas gave a slight nod and reached out to pick up a shirt.

It was simple, but clean.

He held it up, examining it carefully before speaking in a low voice.

“This will do.”

He began testing the fabric, running his fingers over it while checking the size.

For a brief moment, everything was normal and peaceful.

But that fragile sense of peace did not last.

The sudden sound of a car engine pulling up nearby broke the silence of the moment completely.

Lucas glanced up.

A Toyota Corolla Cross 2026 model, worth over 20 thousand dollars came to a smooth stop by the side of the road.

After a brief moment, the driver’s door opened, and a figure slowly stepped out onto the pavement.

There was a short pause, as though the person needed a second to process what she was seeing.

Then, suddenly, a voice broke the silence, filled with unmistakable shock and disbelief.

“Oh my God…”

Lucas froze where he stood, his body going completely still at the voice.

The voice came again, louder this time, carrying a tone of incredulity.

“Is that… Lucas Reed?”

A slow, uncomfortable tension spread through Lucas’s body as he recognized the voice instantly.

 Victoria Sanders, his ex-girlfriend.

He did not move immediately, but after a brief hesitation, he turned his head slightly in the direction of the voice.

She began to walk closer, her eyes fixed on him, carefully scanning his appearance from head to toe, the soaked and worn out prison clothes clinging to his body, the tired look on his face, and the cheap shirt he was holding in his hand.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy, and suffocating.

Then the voice returned, this time carrying a clear note of mockery.

“Wow,  Ohh My Goodness…” Victoria said slowly, dragging out the word as she savored  the moment. “Lucas Reed… standing out here in the middle of the night… pricing old, cheap, already used clothes?”

An amused, sharp, mocking laugh followed.

Lucas said nothing in response.

However, his grip on the shirt tightened unconsciously, causing the fabric to wrinkle slightly in his hand.