5

Silas stood up, clearing his throat.

“Excuse me, Master,” he said quietly, trying to sound casual. “Let me get us some drinks.”

Mateo didn’t even glance at him. Just waved a lazy hand without looking. “Make it worth my time.”

Silas nodded once, then turned and made his way through the crowd toward the bar.

He grumbled under his breath, “Make it worth his time? He’s lucky I don’t pour the whole bottle down his throat.”

The bartender looked up as he approached. Loud music. Fast lights.

“What can I get you?”

Silas leaned in, lowering his voice. “I need something strong. Like… knock-a-grown-man-off-his-feet strong.”

The bartender raised a brow. “You sure?”

“Not for me,” Silas muttered. “It’s for my boss. The kind of guy who drinks diamonds for breakfast.”

The bartender smirked. “Say no more.”

A few bottles later, he slid over two glasses. One was Silas’s—basic whiskey.

The other… layered, sweet on top, dangerous at the bottom. A combo of dark rum, absinthe, and something he didn’t even name.

“This one’ll hit in about ten minutes,” the bartender said. “He won’t see it coming.”

Silas picked up the glasses carefully, swallowing a little.

Here goes nothing.

He made his way back to the booth, sliding Mateo’s drink across the table like it was just some casual cocktail.

Mateo took it without a second glance, sipped once, then leaned back in his seat.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Sweet. What’s in it?”

Silas shrugged, sipping his own. “Luxury.”

Mateo chuckled darkly, tapping the glass against his lips again.

Just as Mateo took another slow sip, head tilted back, the club manager caught sight of him from across the room.

His eyes widened. He leaned over to whisper something urgently to one of the girls standing near the VIP corner.

“That’s Mateo Woods,” the manager hissed. “Don’t just stand there—go give him the full experience.”

Within seconds, three lap dancers appeared, gliding their way through the crowd like it was choreographed. Glittery heels, short skirts, red lips.

Silas blinked as they approached their booth, panic sparking behind his calm stare.

One dancer with long legs and slow hips went straight for Mateo, sliding into his lap like it was her rightful place.

Mateo raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop her. He just smiled, glass in hand, eyes half-lidded. “Now this… this is service.”

The other two dancers moved closer—one sat beside Silas, the other leaned over his shoulder, breath hot against his ear.

“You wanna play too, handsome?” she purred.

Silas cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “Uh—I’m good. Thanks.”

He picked up his glass, pretended to sip, but didn’t swallow.

Mission. Focus.

Don’t get distracted by glitter and perfume.

Mateo chuckled, already loosening up, arm draped over the dancer’s waist.

“You sure you’re not jealous?” he teased Silas, eyes gleaming. “You look tense.”

“I’m on duty,” Silas replied, forcing a tight smile. “Someone’s gotta stay sober.”

Mateo tilted his head. “Boring.”

The dancer on his lap laughed and whispered something in his ear, making him smirk even wider.

Silas sighed under his breath, watching the way Mateo’s fingers lazily trailed over the dancer’s thigh, his shirt slightly unbuttoned from the heat and the drink.

This mission’s gonna kill me, Silas thought, eyes darting to the blinking pod light in his ear.

It blinked once.

“Get him drunk.”

Then it died again.

Silas leaned back slightly, eyes never leaving Mateo.

He better start spilling secrets soon... or I might start spilling this drink on purpose. 😩😏💥🍸

---

Mateo leaned back in the booth, head tipped, the dancer on his lap grinding slow like music was in her veins.

He wasn’t even drinking.

Just letting out low, hot “mmmh” sounds that made Silas’ ear twitch.

Eyes half-lidded. Lips parted. Fingers grazing thighs he had no real interest in.

Just vibes.

Pure teasing.

Silas stared at his untouched glass, then at the two empty ones he’d carefully lined up. Still sober. Mateo hadn’t touched any of it.

Silas clenched his jaw, barely resisting a sigh.

Damn guy was enjoying the attention but not falling for the bait.

If I was the one in his lap, Silas thought, eyes narrowing, he would’ve been two glasses deep by now. 😩😹💀

Mateo let out another “mmm”, lazy and low like a rich man too bored to even try.

That did it.

Silas stood suddenly. The lap dancer closest to him blinked up, surprised.

“Excuse me,” he said, polite but sharp. “Can you give us a minute?”

The girls looked confused, but when Mateo gave a lazy nod, they slid off him one by one.

A swirl of perfume and glitter left the booth.

Mateo blinked. “You just sent away my entertainment.”

Silas sat down beside him—closer than before. Their knees almost touched. His voice dropped low.

“Maybe I’ve got something better in mind.” 😏

Mateo tilted his head, amused. “You?”

Silas reached for the glass and held it out with a slow smirk. “Just drink, boss. Let’s both loosen up.”

Mateo raised a brow, eyes flicking down to their hands—close, casual, dangerous.

“You’re full of surprises, bodyguard,” he said, finally taking the glass.

Silas watched closely.

Mateo brought it to his lips…

And drank.

One down. 😌💀

Silas bit back a grin.

Time to play dirty. 😏💦🔥

Mateo leaned back, one arm tossed over the couch, his shirt slightly open now, chest rising and falling heavier than before.

The second drink was already gone.

He was breathing hard—heat crawling up his neck, a slight flush on his cheeks.

Silas sat close, way too close, pretending not to notice the way Mateo’s knees brushed his.

He turned slightly, letting his fingers glide lazily over the rim of his own untouched glass, voice smooth.

“You okay, boss?” Silas asked, glancing sideways.

Mateo gave a low chuckle, his eyes half-lidded. “You’re playing with fire, Reed.”

Silas smirked, leaning in just a little more.

“Then burn,” he muttered.

Mateo stared at him.

His jaw clenched, chest rising again.

Silas was getting to him.

Good.

Silas shifted even closer—his thigh grazing Mateo’s now. Then, as casual as breathing, his hand reached up and brushed a lock of hair from Mateo’s face.

“You look tense,” he said, his voice quiet. “Work stress?”

Mateo didn’t answer right away.

Just picked up the third drink.

Took a slow sip.

Eyes still locked on Silas.

Then his tongue slipped out, running over the corner of his lips—tasting whatever was left.

“Maybe,” he finally said. “Or maybe it’s my bodyguard acting like a damn lap dancer.”

Silas chuckled softly.

“Is it working?”

Mateo let out a low grunt, his breath catching just slightly. His fingers flexed where they rested on his thigh.

“Maybe.”

Silas leaned in, brushing his lips close to Mateo’s ear.

“Then tell me something no one else knows,” he whispered. “Loosen up.”

Mateo froze for a beat. His breathing deeper now. Slower.

Then he turned to Silas—face close, voice rough.

“You wanna know my secrets, Reed?” he said, lips just inches away. “You better keep dancing...”

Silas smirked.

Mission very much in progress. 💦