[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

The blush that had been smoldering on his cheeks erupted into a full wildfire.

Neville’s eyes went wide behind his glasses, his lips parted. For a solid three seconds, he forgot how to speak.

Beside him, Grayson’s expression underwent a dark transformation.

To the people who didn’t know him, nothing looked wrong in his expression. His hand was still holding Neville’s, but the temperature around him dropped significantly.

The look he directed at Pete—who was casually lining up another shot—could have etched glass.

Pete blatantly ignored him and took his shot.

The cue ball cracked against the seven, which rolled wide and missed the pocket by a generous margin.

Pete straightened up with a mild shrug. He was utterly unbothered by both his miss and Grayson’s displeasure. He just stepped aside so Julius could take his turn.

Grayson’s eye twitched.

"You know me?" Chronos asked as Neville and Grayson reached the table. His voice was lighter than Neville had expected—warm, with a playful edge to it.

"Of course I know you!"

Neville blurted, abandoning all pretenses.

"Apart from Miss Gringer, you’re one of the most popular alphas out there. I mean—your last concert had, what, twelve billion streams? The fashion campaign you did for Lux Stellar was everywhere for months. My coworker Alua has your limited-edition photobook, she—"

Neville’s nose caught something and stopped mid-sentence. His vomeronasal organ—far more sensitive than any ordinary living being because he was a mermaid. Although he learned to ignore them on a daily basis, most of the time, he was sensitive to new scents.

His brow creased. The alphas at the office had distinct pheromone signatures.

Grayson’s fresh water pheromones were so familiar now that Neville could pick them out of a crowded room. Even Sarah’s floral pheromones were recognizable from several meters away.

But Chronos—

Chronos tilted his head, curious.

After all, Neville’s face had gone from starstruck adoration to visible confusion in the span of a heartbeat. It was so obvious that it was impossible to ignore.

"But..." Neville muttered to himself, his gaze unfocused as his senses worked overtime. The words escaped his lips before he even realized what he had just said. "...he’s an alpha, right?"

The atmosphere in the billiards room changed.

Pete’s hand, which had been idly chalking his cue, stopped. His calm expression flickered—just a flash of sharpness beneath the easygoing exterior. But it had gone so quickly that most people would have missed it completely.

Chronos’s smile didn’t falter outwardly. But he was sure caught off guard, and his demeanor slightly changed.

Pete drew a breath, his mouth opening as if to say something—

Chronos’s gaze slid toward him, and he slightly shook his head.

Don’t.

Pete closed his mouth.

Grayson watched this exchange with raised eyebrows. His eyes moved from Pete to Chronos and back again, but he didn’t comment on it.

Instead, he snapped Neville from his reverie and said, "Let me introduce you properly."

"This is Chronos—you probably know him as Zero. And this is Pete Rowan, you already know him, but you probably didn’t know that he is also the dean of the Imperial Research Institute."

Julius, who had just sunk the three-ball with a clean bank shot, glanced up and gave Neville a nod of acknowledgment. They already knew each other, so Grayson didn’t need to introduce him.

And then Grayson placed his hand on the small of Neville’s back with a casual possessiveness that was becoming increasingly habitual.

"And this is Neville. My boyfriend."

"Chronos?" Neville repeated and then looked between Zero and Pete. "I thought—"

"Only people close to him use that name," Pete explained, calmly leaning against the table. "He prefers Zero in most situations. It’s...a privacy thing."

That made sense. If Neville had a galaxy-spanning fan base and paparazzi drones tracking his every move, he would want to keep a small boundary between his public persona and his private life.

Neville nodded and said, "Zero it is, then."

"Thank you," Chronos said with a sweet smile, slid off his stool, and stepped closer to Neville. "So, Grayson’s boyfriend. Shall we have a little talk on the side?"

Neville nodded without caring about Grayson’s opinion, and the two of them were off to the side.

Grayson, who couldn’t stop Neville from going off with Chronos, was looking at the two with an abandoned puppy look.

Pete silently handed Grayson a cue, hoping he would snap out of it. But Grayson, who received it, didn’t move and stood there gripping the cue hard.

Julius, who was methodically clearing the table without any concern for the emotional drama unfolding beside him, sank the five-ball and moved on to the six without comment.

Pete watched Grayson for a long time. Then he set down his chalk and walked over. He placed a hand on Grayson’s shoulder with the practiced ease of someone who had been there before.

"Just let him be," Pete said, his voice carrying the gentle, unhurried quality of patience. "At the end of the day, your boyfriend is still yours to take home."

But his gaze didn’t move from Neville’s laughing face across the room—from the way his little boyfriend’s cheeks were flushed with happiness.

From the way, Neville laughed. From the way, his hands moved through the air as he talked.

From the way Chronos’s honey-gold eyes seemed to drink in every word with interest. For the way, he leaned closer to say something to Neville.

Grayson’s grip on the cue tightened by another fraction.

He knew Pete was right.

But that didn’t make him feel better.

Not even a little bit.

Grayson’s cue stick creaked ominously in his grip.

Julius sank the eight-ball.

"Game," he announced to no one in particular.

But no one was listening either.

Not too far from the pool table where Grayson was lining up his next shot, Neville was utterly oblivious to the silent crisis unfolding in his boyfriend’s mind.

He had moved to a cushioned stool not too far from the pool table with Chronos.

From here, the clack of billiard balls and the low rumble of conversation at the pool table were reduced to pleasant background noise. But it was still close enough to be part of the group, still far enough to feel like their own little island.