chapter 8

The news about his grandmother had ruined his mood completely.

He was in the middle of reviewing some accounts when Paulo rushed in that day, explaining that the old woman had fainted and that paramedics had taken her away.

For a moment, Derek had felt something close to panic as a tight, unfamiliar pressure hit his chest.

His grandmother was the only person in the world he truly cared about. The thought of her going to some hospital, exposed to rumour-mongers, strangers and questions made his temper explode.

And then came the second wave of anger.

Her caregiver couldn't stop them. How could she allow strangers to take his grandmother away without informing him first?

Derek had almost smashed the glass in his hand when Paulo finished explaining. He didn't even have to give the order. Paulo already knew what to do. His men had retrieved the old woman before she reached the hospital.

Still, there was another problem.

“They brought one of the paramedics with them,” Paulo had said cautiously.

Derek had leaned back in his chair slowly, his expression dark.

“A paramedic?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Derek remained silent for a moment before giving a simple instruction. “Make sure he doesn’t snoop around my house.”

Paulo nodded immediately.

Now, hours later, Derek sat in the dim glow of his favourite place, a glass of liquor resting loosely in his hand. Music played slowly through the speakers as strippers moved around the poles on stage.

The men beside him laughed. The strippers were doing well but Derek felt nothing. Everything was dull tonight.

Normally the club entertained him. It was his private world, a place where no one asked questions, where people came for pleasure and left without expectations. But tonight, nothing held his interest.

Was it because of his grandmother's health? Or was he because Paulo had brought a paramedic home? He didn't know the exact reason for his low interest.

He leaned back in his seat, taking another slow sip from his drink as his eyes lazily scanned the room, looking for something that could lift his mood.

Dancers, predictable. Regular clients are chatty as always, laughing loudly like people without etiquette.

All these faces and none of them caught his attention. They all felt… predictable.

Derek exhaled quietly, already preparing to leave when something unusual caught his eye near the entrance.

A man. A young man if he was being precise.

He stood awkwardly near the doorway, looking completely out of place. His slender frame was stiff, his curly hair slightly messy as if he had been running his hands through it. His eyes moved around the room in stunned confusion.

He was clearly lost.

That was the exact thing Derek saw while he watched the young man. And for some strange reason, that immediately made Derek interested.

A slow, dangerous smile almost formed on his lips.

The boy looked like the perfect prey for him.

Derek studied him carefully as he took in his slim statue and his soft features. The young man's eyes were wide open, showing that he clearly had no idea where he had just wandered into.

Yes, he was new, Derek thought but he was definitely not one of the dancers. Who was he? How did he find this place? Who invited him?

Derek straightened slightly in his chair. And for the first time that night, something had caught his attention.

He lifted one finger and made a small gesture, more like a signal to the man.

Across the room, Lewis noticed the motion.

At first, he looked confused, glancing around as if to check whether the signal had been meant for someone else.

But Derek’s gaze remained fixed on him.

Lewis hesitated, pointing at himself to confirm if he was really the one.

Derek nodded once. Then slowly… Lewis walked over.

Derek watched him approach with quiet amusement.

Up close, the young man looked even younger than he first thought. He can't be a client either.

Just a lost stranger who had wandered into the wrong place. Well that's interesting.

Lewis stopped beside him. Derek gestured to the empty seat next to him.

“Sit.”

“I'm not supposed to be here,” Lewis argued.

“I know,” Derek said. “Sit,” he insisted.

Lewis hesitated again before slowly lowering himself onto the couch.

Derek could sense Lewis nervousness, so he poured him a drink and slid the glass toward him.

“Drink.”

Lewis looked at the glass, then back at Derek.

“No, thank you,” he said calmly.

Derek’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I wasn't asking.”

Lewis felt the weight of Derek's commanding personality. He had never met anyone like him but he could tell that they don't talk much and they don't joke around.

After a few seconds, Lewis sighed quietly and picked up the glass. One glass of alcohol won't harm him, he thought.

“Fine, I'll drink it.”

He took a large gulp.

Derek’s expression softened slightly. “Good.”

Lewis winced faintly as the alcohol burned his throat.

“What was that?”

Derek leaned back comfortably. “My special mix.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “And what does it do?”

Derek lifted his own glass slowly. “Helps me stay out of reality.”

Lewis stared at him for a moment. “Like it helps you get high?”

Derek nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough if you say it that way.”

“What? Did you just mix up drugs for me?” Lewis snapped.

“You should count yourself lucky,” Derek retorted.

Without wasting time, the alcohol was already working in Lewis' body. He wasn't supposed to drink but he found himself wanting more of it.

“Can I have another?” Lewis asked before he could stop himself.

Derek looked mildly surprised, but he poured him another one. Innocent looking men are doing the most unexpected things, he thought.

After gulping another glass, Lewis began to relax. The tension in his shoulders faded, his posture loosened and his words began to flow more easily.

He leaned slightly closer to Derek as he talked, clearly feeling the effects of the drink.

“You know…” Lewis said thoughtfully, studying Derek’s face. “I thought you were the owner of this place.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “What made you think so?”

Lewis answered. “You possess a different kind of aura. A dangerous kind. The kind that says ‘you don't want to mess with me’.”

At this point, Derek was already contemplating dumping him because he talks too much or playing along because it was kind of amusing to watch.

A small smile appeared on Lewis' lips as he continued. “You look mysterious too.”

Derek watched him carefully.

Lewis tilted his head as he studied Derek’s expression. “That frown you keep doing…” he continued. “Makes me want to know what was beyond it.

Derek remained silent, watching with amusement.

Lewis leaned even closer, clearly fascinated. “Actually,” he said thoughtfully, “People like you are soft inside. You just try to act tough and rugged.”

Derek blinked once. He had been called a lot of things but nobody has ever called him soft.

And drunk Lewis seemed completely unaware of how bold he sounded. So he continued talking casually.

“Like… it was hot in a kind of way. You look like someone who doesn’t take it likely in bed too.”

That statement made Derek's interest increase rapidly.

He pointed lazily at Derek’s face. “The serious face, the dangerous vibe would make your time in bed hot as fuck.”

Lewis was completely unfiltered and Derek was completely interested. The way Lewis acted was a turn on for him. He had never imagined that a drunk man's words would make him hard.

Lewis leaned closer again. “Do you want to try it?”

Derek didn't answer.

“I might look boring but I'm not. I swear, I know how to spice things up too.” Lewis added.

Derek let out a soft laugh and before he could seal his lips, Lewis kissed him.

It was just a quick, impulsive kiss placed right against Derek’s lips but it sparked all the electricity in Derek's body. It was as if he was burning in a good way.

Then Lewis leaned back again as if nothing unusual had happened. “How was it?” He asked.

Derek sat completely still, the fireworks in his body continued. And for the first time in a very long time, someone had truly surprised him.