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

Bryan pulled out a chair and plopped down in it with zero grace. Sarah and Iris sat down in their respective seats, completing their impromptu gathering.

Neville distributed chips to individual plates, grateful he had made more than he had originally planned. A huge plastic bag had seemed excessive when he was packing, but now it felt barely adequate.

"Oh my god," Sarah moaned around a mouthful of banana chips. "This is amazing. Neville, you’re a genius."

"I—"

"Accept the compliment," Iris said, her stern expression softening as she tried a potato chip. "These are good. Where’d you learn to make them?"

From a half-remembered recipe on Earth and sheer desperation to satiate his cravings. But of course, Neville wouldn’t say that.

Instead, he shrugged. "Just something I thought of."

Sarah grabbed another handful, his earlier theatrics forgotten. "You should sell these. Start a side business. I will buy them."

"Pretty sure the company has policies against employees running side businesses," Neville said dryly.

"Just details." Bryan waved a dismissive hand, completely ignoring Grayson, who was with them.

Sarah leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "So picture this—the reactor core hummed, like full-on deep rumblings. So everyone panicked. Then, Jenkins, bless him, decides he tried to match the pitch, and he did."

Bryan choked on his drink and blinked. "You’re kidding."

"I wish I were." She gestured so wildly that her drink nearly flew. "He was standing there, arms to his heart, and sang back to the engine. The whole floor’s losing it. In the end, he said, it was ’for morale.’ Everyone cried."

Iris didn’t even crack a smile—at first. She arched an eyebrow and said, "That explains the maintenance log titled ’musical interference’ in the engine bay."

Sarah grinned. "Guilty as charged."

"That was you?" Bryan groaned, rubbing his forehead. "You do realize I had to sign off on that report, don’t you? The system flagged it as a ’musical hazard.’"

"Hey, consider it a performance review," Sarah said with a grin. "We were innovating."

Iris finally let out a quiet laugh. "You nearly innovated your way into a safety violation."

That set everyone laughing, and the noise from their table grew louder than the others around them.

After a while, Bryan sighed contentedly, leaning back. "I swear, datawork’s going to be my legacy. They’ll find my skeleton buried under a stack of chips someday."

Sarah raised her glass and a potato chip in one hand. "To Bryan, patron saint of chips."

Iris clinked hers lightly against Bryan’s. "Someone has to keep the chaos contained."

Bryan groaned good-naturedly. "Saint? More like divine punishment."

Sarah smirked, feeding Bryan the chip on her hand. "Come on, it’s not that bad. You love the drama."

He pointed his fork at her. "That’s in your department."

"Damn right it is," Iris said dryly.

They all burst into laughter again.

Grayson remained mostly quiet, but Neville caught him smiling more than once, his usually sharp edges softened by the atmosphere.

But all good things were temporary.

"I need to use the restroom," Neville announced, standing.

His glass was empty. It was nothing too hard of a drink, but it could still make one tipsy, and he had drunk more than he had intended.

"Don’t get lost," Sarah called after him. "This place is huge!"

Neville nodded and navigated through the crowd, following the signs toward the restrooms.

The music became slightly quieter as he moved away from the main venue. The hallway was eerily quiet since a few people were going in this direction. He even thought that he got lost, but the signboards were everywhere and the instructions were clear.

He was almost to the restroom when he spotted the smoking area directly across from him.

A small alcove, set back from the main hallway, with ventilation panels in the ceiling and a few scattered chairs. And standing in the center, wreathed in faintly sweet-smelling smoke, was Ethan.

Neville froze.

He hadn’t seen Ethan inside the venue since it was a huge place. He didn’t expect that he would be here smoking on one corner. Neville was still thinking about how to get out of here when those eyes locked onto him.

Ethan lowered his vape, exhaling a cloud of vapor that dissipated quickly in the ventilated space.

"Neville." Ethan greeted him with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Please call me by my surname, Mr. Goelet." He firmly said.

Neville’s mind raced. He could still turn around and pretend he had taken a wrong turn, head to a different bathroom—

But Ethan was already moving toward him, closing the distance with large strides.

Neville’s instincts screamed at him to run, but his body remained frustratingly rooted. By the time he managed to take a step back, Ethan was already there, hand shooting out to grab his wrist.

"Avoiding me?" Ethan asked. His tone was light, conversational, but there was no humor in his expression.

Neville tried to pull free. Ethan’s grip tightened.

"Not really." He replied while gritting his teeth.

"Liar." Ethan’s other hand came up, fingers catching Neville’s chin and tilting his face up. "You’ve been trying to avoid me for weeks now."

Ugh. The smell of artificial fruit and something chemical clung to Ethan, making Neville’s nose wrinkle in distaste.

He reached up and pinched his nose pointedly. "Can you blame me?"

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. In one smooth motion, he maneuvered Neville backward until his shoulders hit the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make Neville’s heart jump into his throat.

"You’re really interesting," Ethan murmured, leaning in. Too close. Way too close. "Do you know that? Most people are so easy to read and manipulate. But you..."

His free hand pressed against the wall beside Neville’s head, caging him in. "You’re different."

"I’m not." Neville kept his voice steady. "I’m telling you I’m just like everyone else. So, give your attention to someone else, Mr. Goelet."

"This is what makes you interesting." Ethan’s smile was sharp. "You tried so hard to hide it. But I already know it, Neville. There’s no need to hide it from me."

Neville’s blood ran cold. This was bad. This was very bad. He had been so careful, so what the hell did Ethan mean by hiding? What did he really know?

"Not like you can, anyway," Ethan said, his smirk widening at whatever expression crossed Neville’s face.

"Can what?" Neville tried to slide sideways along the wall. Ethan moved to block him.

"Avoid me."

A hand landed on Ethan’s shoulder, gripping with obvious strength.

"How about taking your hands off of him?"