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

Ciel slumped in his chair, propping his chin on both fists like a deflated balloon.

The holographic chip display beside him blinked a number considerably smaller than the one he’d started the evening with.

Every time he looked at it, his left eye twitched.

"I want something sweet," he announced to no one in particular, but his gaze swept to all the couples around him.

Though his gaze drifted meaningfully toward Thiago, who stood behind him with both arms crossed.

"Something so sweet my teeth rot," he continued, brandishing his fangs.

Thiago didn’t even look at him. "How about you just eat sugar, raw? That’s sweet."

"Can’t I just have some sweets?" Ciel tilted his head back, offering his most practiced puppy-eyed expression with pouting.

"You can have diabetes too." Thiago retorted with a fake smile.

Ciel’s lips pressed into a thin line and turned back to the table.

Sarah took a bottle from the robot server with a liquid with a neon shade of red. She poured a generous amount into a glass and slid it across to Julius.

"Try this," she said brightly. "It’s called a Crimson Star. Two shots of Xylosian rum, one shot of khe citrone syrup, and something called ’stardust extract,’ which I’m pretty sure is just edible glitter."

Julius looked at the drink and raised it to his lips. He took a measured sip and set it down.

"It’s fine," he said.

Sarah beamed. "Right? It’s amazing. I had three shots at the bar earlier; most people can’t handle two in one sitting."

Julius looked at the drink again with slight respect and a little concern.

Meanwhile, Neville reached for his glass and found it empty.

His throat had gone dry again, and he felt a faint, persistent tingle on his skin. A warning sign that his body needed to be refilled with salt water again.

But right now, he couldn’t possibly ask the robot server in front of him to give him some salt water. People would immediately ask him why and all sorts of similar questions.

Neville decisively called the robot server and asked, "Give me an electrolyte drink. Standard mineral blend, please."

The robot went away for a minute and came back holding a tray with a clear, faintly blue-tinted bottle on it.

Neville drank half of it in one go and made a mental note: after the game, salt water.

Grayson watched him, and his gaze lingered on the plain electrolyte bottle. Neville had a faint crease between his brows.

It seemed that he was uncomfortable somewhere and was trying not to show it.

As much as he wanted to ask Neville, he also knew that since Neville didn’t say a thing, he probably wanted to solve it after the game.

So, without a word, Grayson intercepted a passing robot. He plucked a bowl of small butter cookies from the tray it carried, and turned back.

He tapped Neville’s shoulder once, lightly.

Neville glanced up.

Grayson held a cookie directly at Neville’s lips. It was close enough that Neville could smell the butter and vanilla before he could even process what was happening.

It was a small piece. Bite-sized.

So, Neville bit it without much thought. His teeth closed around the cookie. His lips brushed against the tips of Grayson’s fingers—warm and calloused.

The contact lasted less than a second.

But it was enough to darken Grayson’s eyes.

His hand didn’t move, and he let Neville finish everything in his hand. His two fingertips were faintly damp, but he used his other fingertips to wipe away the crumbs remaining on Neville’s lips.

Neville continued to chew the cookie.

It was good, but it wasn’t as good as what he made.

But even though there were a lot of people to look at, someone was watching them in particular since earlier.

Lilianna stood behind the dealer’s display. Beneath her right hand, which was holding the edge of the table, appeared a hairline crack from the force of her grip.

The table glitched momentarily, making Sarah flinch.

"What the—"

Ciel jerked back in his seat. "Did the table just die?"

"I’m sorry," Lilianna said with a smile, lifting her hand, and the surface smoothed itself back as if nothing had happened. "Must be a minor calibration issue. These modular systems can be finicky."

’You’ve been holding back so long.’ Her inner voice said, ’Wouldn’t it feel good to just—’

No.

Lilianna’s jaw tightened behind her smile.

’If we can just get him alone,’ her inner voice whispered, clearly changing its strategy. ’One conversation. That’s all we need. Surely, he would—’

Yes... Timing is everything.

The third game unfolded.

Everyone had standardized their bets this round—5,000 star coins across the board.

In Bryan’s case, he heeded his girlfriend, Iris’s opinion.

The sole exception was Ciel, who had done the opposite.

"One hundred thousand," he declared, shoving his chip stack forward. "I’m taking back my losses. Every. Single. Coin. Watch me."

"Ciel," Thiago called with a flat tone.

"I heard nothing," Ciel said, confidently ignoring Thiago, humming with an uplifting note.

Thiago closed his eyes, but he did not sigh or say anything.

The cards were distributed, and the game went on.

Lilianna’s up card was a king and revealed the faced-down card.

Nine.

Nineteen.

Nobody in the table beat nineteen.

Ciel threw both hands in the air. "Again?!"

Julius, who had split a pair of sixes and lost both sets, pushed his chips toward the center resignedly.

Sarah slapped the table. "Lilianna. Seriously. Make us win, please."

"What?" Lilianna innocently said, "I’m just dealing."

"You’re driving us into bankruptcy, is what you’re doing." Ciel jabbed a finger at her. "Three games. Three losses. What the hell was that?"

"It’s called variance," Bryan said mildly, calculating his wins and losses. "We signed up knowing we would win some and lose some. So, guys, calm down."

Ciel whipped around and pointed at him. "You have no say in this. You already won!"

"I’m just—"

"No! You won! Your opinion is invalidated!"

Julius raised a hand, palm out. "Let’s all calm down."

Ciel redirected his accusatory finger without missing a beat. "So did you!"

Julius quickly lowered his hand.