𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄

𝐓𝐄𝐍

THIS EPISODE CONTAINS MATURE SCENES.

Reader discretion is advised. This episode may include content that is intended for mature audiences, and contains themes and scenes that may not be suitable for all readers.

Content could include strong language, violence, adult situations, and other mature themes. If you are sensitive to such content or under the age of consent, I recommend choosing a different story to read.

PLEASE read at your own discretion, and be mindful of the content’s appropriateness for your age and personal preferences.

—

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄

As the night unfolded, the laughter and camaraderie flowed freely, each man enjoying the rare opportunity to unwind.

Sebastian, a master of intrigue, raised his glass and leaned back in his chair. “Gentlemen,” He began with a mischievous grin. “I had the pleasure of meeting a fascinating woman named Teagan.”

My eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, my gaze flickering towards Sebastian. The name, though casually mentioned, held a weight that only I could comprehend.

Demetrio and Thaddeus exchanged knowing glances, their lips curving into sly smiles. Bartholomew, ever perceptive, watched the unfolding scene with keen interest.

“Teagan?” Demetrio chimed in. “Isn’t that a name we’ve heard before, Thaddeus?”

Thaddeus chuckled, leaning forward slightly. “Oh, indeed,” He replied with a wink. “Wasn’t Teagan the name of someone quite close to our dear Dacre?”

My expression remained carefully composed, a mask of nonchalance concealing the tumultuous storm of emotions within me. “Teagan?” I echoed, as if hearing the name for the first time. “Ah, yes, my secretary. She’s efficient, I’ll give her that.”

Sebastian’s gaze held a twinkle of amusement, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “Efficient, you say? Well, she certainly left an impression on me. An intriguing young woman, wouldn’t you agree?”

My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass, the facade of indifference becoming harder to maintain. I met Sebastian’s gaze with a fleeting nod. “Indeed,” I replied tersely.

—

Their attention was drawn to the center stage, where a captivating performance unfolded. Exotic dancers moved with grace and allure, the artistry of their movements capturing the attention of the mesmerized audience.

Amidst the enchanting spectacle, my phone vibrated with an insistent urgency. I retrieved it from my pocket, my expression shifting to one of intrigue as I recognized the caller ID.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said, my tone’s polite yet detached, before walking toward a quieter corner of the club.

Curiosity piqued, my friends exchanged glances and followed me at a discreet distance. I tapped the loudspeaker button on my phone, ensuring that my friends could hear the conversation.

“Well, well, Dacre,” The man’s voice purred. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Indeed, it has. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

The man’s chuckle resonated through the phone. “No need for formalities,” He drawled. “Rumor has it you’re having quite the shindig tonight.”

My brows knit together as I pieced the puzzle. “How did you—”

His laughter cut me off, a low and throaty sound that resonated through the phone. “You underestimate the reach of my network, Dacre. I’ve got ears in all the right places.”

There was a pause, the silence stretching for a heartbeat before he continued, dripping with intrigue. “I find myself in your city, and I thought, why not pay you a visit? So, Dacre, tell me, where exactly can I find you?”

“You’re on speaker,”

His laughter resonated through the airwaves. “A clever move, Dacre. Very well, then. I’ll be in your esteemed establishment in a short while. Until then.” With that, the call ended, leaving a lingering sense of intrigue and apprehension in its wake.

—

“About time,” His lips curved into a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with mirth.

As the pleasantries continued, his attention shifted towards me. He stepped closer, his voice lowering as he addressed me. “Salvadore,” He began, his tone casual yet tinged with a note of familiarity.

My gaze met him, a trace of amusement playing at the corner of his lips. “Nathaniel,” I replied, the formality of our address belying the depth of our connection.

Nathaniel’s grin widened, his tone dripping with innuendo. “You know, Salvadore, I’ve always admired your ability to create a place where the sins of the world can be indulged.”

My chuckle resonated through the air. “It’s all in a day’s work, Sinclair.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspirational whisper. “Speaking of indulgence, I’ve got a dirty joke that’s right up your alley.”

My eyebrow arched, my curiosity piqued. “Oh, really? Do share.”

His lips curled into a smirk, his gaze fixed on mine. “Why did the bartender become a gardener?” He asked, his voice laced with a daring edge.

My lips quirked into a half-smile. “Why?”

Nathaniel’s smirk deepened, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Because he wanted to wet the plants.”

Laughter erupted from our friends, the tension in the room momentarily eased by the risqué humor.

His grin remained, his voice carrying a sense of camaraderie. “It’s fucking good to see you all,” He remarked, his words seemingly casual despite the layers of familiarity that lingered beneath.

—

As the cards shuffled and dealt, the atmosphere shifted into one of friendly competition. Nathaniel’s presence, however, introduced an element of audacity that seemed to dance on the edge of propriety.

The game progressed, each hand more intense than the last, and as luck swung back and forth, so did Nathaniel’s emotions, his vocabulary turning colorful and explosive with each card drawn.

“Ah, shit!” He exclaimed as he surveyed his hand, his voice carrying a mixture of frustration and amusement.

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. “Having a rough hand, Sinclair?”

Nathaniel’s lips curled into a smirk. “A rough hand? This hand is shittier than a horse stable in midsummer.”

Demetrio let out a bark of laughter, a wide grin on his face. “Damn, Nate, you really know how to paint a picture with your words.”

As the game continued, so did Nathaniel’s colorful commentary, his choice of words taking on a life of their own. With each loss or unexpected turn of events, a string of expletives spilled from his lips, his creativity in swearing becoming a source of amusement for the group.

TO BE CONTINUED.