Vegas Pete- Between the Law and the Lost

Ch-3 Deal

Vegas slept longer than usual, not because he was tired, but because, for the first time in a long while, he felt a rare sense of peace. It was as if he had let go of his usual guarded self, allowing himself to rest more deeply than he ever expected. But when he finally woke up, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him. Instinctively, he reached for his phone. Seeing seven missed calls from different unknown numbers, Vegas frowned. It didn't take long for him to piece it together—Pete was trying to reach him. The thought made him smirk slightly. "Hoodie's got brains," he muttered, half-amused.

Vegas decided to wait for Pete's call, convincing himself it was the logical thing to do. But as the minutes ticked by, he grew restless. Why was he so eager to hear from that damn 20-year-old? Vegas wasn't one to admire people like Pete—young, naive, and too earnest for his own good. He reminded himself that seeing Pete just once wouldn't change anything. Pete was a stranger, and that's all he should be. Vegas had more important things to focus on—deals to close, enemies to keep an eye on. Yet here he was, carrying his phone into the bathroom, just in case Pete called.

As the water pounded against his skin, Vegas tried to wash away the thoughts of Pete. He reminded himself of who he was—the man who never let anyone get close, who stayed sharp and focused. But Pete had slipped through his defenses, even if just a little. The way Pete had looked at him, read his lips so intently—it stirred something deep inside Vegas that he couldn't quite identify.

"Do I really just want to tie him up and make him forget who he is?" Vegas half-joked to himself. He knew how to handle desire, knew how to feed the beast without letting it take control. But this... this was different. This wasn't just some fleeting need to dominate, to control. He kept trying to convince himself it was just lust. "Maybe it's just because I haven't touched anyone in months," he told himself, but the lie felt too thin to hold. His body screamed for something, but this felt like a hunger he hadn't fed in years.

Vegas turned off the shower and leaned back, feeling the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. "I'm a bastard, sure, but I've got my own standards. I make my own choices, my own rules," he muttered. He had always lived by that—his own code, his own terms. He took what he wanted when he wanted it, but he always knew why. Always had a reason, a plan. But now... now he felt like he was floundering, grasping at straws in the dark.

Was it just curiosity? Or was it something deeper? Vegas frowned, his thoughts a tangled mess. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered, scrubbing his hair with unnecessary force. He wasn't someone who got attached. He wasn't about to break that rule for some fleeting, moonlit fantasy. He wasn't a fool for a pretty face.

He closed his eyes. "Damn it, Vegas. All you need is work...... more work. And a bottle of wine. That's it," he muttered aloud. But deep down, he knew that wasn't it. He wanted something else... something he wasn't ready to admit to himself, "Control".

After finishing his shower and wrestling with his thoughts, Vegas stepped out of the bathroom. The cool air of the room contrasted sharply with the heat of the shower, grounding him back in the present. Though his mind was still racing, he felt a sense of control returning. The monsoon season had settled over Bangkok, and the chill in the air prompted him to choose warmer clothes than usual—yet still stylish enough to maintain the image he always presented to the world. He knew exactly what he was doing. He selected a grey, well-fitted sweater that clung to his lean frame and paired it with black tailored pants. He looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting the collar of his sweater and smoothing his hair back. The reflection staring back at him was the same, but there was a flicker in his eyes—something he wasn't sure he liked.

As he adjusted his watch around his wrist, the low hum of his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and saw an unknown number. With a practiced swipe, he answered the call.