69

69
Mateo’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, a short, sharp vibration. He didn’t move at first, but Silas saw his eyes flick toward it—saw the tension return to his jaw.

Mateo picked it up, thumb brushing the screen. The message glowed clear:

Boss, we need you now at the coast. It’s urgent.

For a moment, he just stared at it, his chest rising heavy. Then he shoved the phone facedown and turned back toward Silas.

He leaned in, catching Silas’s chin between his fingers, pressing a kiss to his lips.His hand slid through Silas’s hair desperately, holding him there a beat longer than necessary.

When he pulled back, his smile was soft, but his eyes… his eyes betrayed him. Silas read it instantly—the storm, the weight, the secrets.

“Stay here,” Mateo murmured, brushing a thumb over his cheek like he was fragile glass. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He stood, muscles flexing as he tugged his shirt from the chair. The cotton dragged over his shoulders, stretching across his chest, clinging as he pulled it down.

Mateo bent down one last time, kissing Silas’s forehead, whispering, “Don’t think too hard while I’m gone, hm?”

And then he turned, phone in his pocket, storm in his eyes, leaving Silas in bed clutching the sheets—his chest aching with guilt.

The door clicked shut behind Mateo, and the silence swallowed the room. Silas lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, Mateo’s kiss still burning against his lips.

He needed a distraction—anything to quiet the storm in his chest. His hand fumbled for the remote on the nightstand, and he flicked on the TV.

The screen came alive with the sharp voice of a reporter:

“Breaking News: Billionaire CEO Mateo Woods under investigation for alleged connections to organized crime at the Atlantic coast. Sources say a major operation may be underway, but officials refuse to confirm at this time.”

Silas’s heart stopped.

The camera cut to grainy footage of ships in open water, police craft circling, red-and-blue lights flashing against the waves.

The reporter continued, “While details remain unclear, federal agents suggest an imminent crackdown. The billionaire, known for his mysterious dealings and vast empire, has yet to issue a statement. We’ll update as this story develops.”

Silas’s breath caught. His eyes went wide, hands clutching the sheet like it could steady him.

I knew it… The information I fed the agent— His stomach dropped, nausea rising. God, no. No, no, no. Did I just set this all in motion?

The TV kept playing, but Silas couldn’t hear it anymore. All he could hear was his own heart thundering, the echo of Mateo’s kiss, his whispered “Stay here,” tangled with the crushing truth.

“Omg… Mateo,” Silas whispered, his voice cracking as tears stung his eyes. He pressed a trembling hand over his mouth. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

The remote slipped from Silas’s hand, clattering onto the sheets, when his own phone buzzed violently against the nightstand.

He snatched it up, his pulse racing—half-expecting it to be Mateo. But instead, the screen lit with a new notification: Video received.

Hesitant, trembling, he tapped it open.

The clip rolled instantly, shaky footage of a crowded office, men in suits and badges clapping, laughter and cheers rising. A banner scrolled across the screen: FBI HQ — Internal Feed.

“Congratulations, Agent Reeds!” a voice boomed over the noise. “That was one hell of a job. Risky, but you pulled it off clean.”

The camera panned, showing agents raising glasses, patting each other’s backs, faces bright with triumph.

“Your undercover work paid off,” another agent added. “We finally have the leverage we need on Woods and his people. A promotion is just the beginning.”

Silas’s chest caved, his fingers digging into the phone so hard his knuckles turned white. His own name—Agent Reeds—echoed back at him, cold and merciless.

The room spun. He pressed a hand to his mouth, choking back the sob clawing its way out.

On the TV behind him, Mateo’s name was plastered across the headline. On his phone, his betrayal was being toasted.

Silas’s eyes blurred with tears as he whispered, broken, “What have I done…?”

Because in that moment, the truth cut deeper than any guilt before—he wasn’t just lying to Mateo. He was destroying him.

The door creaked open.

Silas scrambled, wiping his face, shoving the phone under the pillow—too late.

The sound of slow, clapping filled the air.

Mateo stepped in, eyes cold, lips curled into a fake  smile.

“Wow… Agent Reeds.” He dragged out the name like poison. “Your acting deserves a Grammy. You almost had me, baby.”

Silas’s breath caught, his whole body going rigid under the sheets.

Mateo’s gaze raked him over—shirtless, flushed, trembling—with betrayal written all over him. He reached behind his waistband, pulling free a gun with a smooth, terrifying ease.

Silas’s heart stopped. “Mateo…” he whispered, voice cracking.

Mateo tilted his head, the barrel glinting as he weighed it in his hand. “Never expected this from you. Out of everyone… you.”

He stepped closer, slowly every inch the mafia alpha—but his eyes were glassy and wet at the edges, like the hurt cut deeper than the rage.

Silas sat up quickly, hands out, panic rising. “Stop it, Mateo. Put it down, please. What are you doing?” His voice trembled, breaking with guilt and fear.

Mateo’s smile twitched, almost collapsing . His finger brushed the trigger, but his hand shook.

“What am I doing?” His laugh was hollow, choked. “I should be asking you that, Silas. Agent. Lover. Traitor. Which one are you?”

The gun stayed raised, but so did the tears threatening to fall.

Silas scrambled forward on the bed, chest bare, hair falling into his eyes, voice breaking as the words tumbled out.

“I love you!” His hands shook as he reached out, palms open, pleading. “Don’t do this, Mateo, please—I didn’t mean to, I swear—I didn’t—” His breath stopped, tears slipping down his flushed cheeks. “What are you doing? Put it down… you’re scaring me.”

Mateo froze mid-step, the barrel hovering just inches from Silas’s face. His breath came ragged, his arm trembling despite the strength in it.

“Love?” His voice cracked.“You call this love? You’ve been lying in my bed, moaning my name, while feeding my enemies every move I make—”

Silas’s chest heaved, his voice shattering into raw, desperate gasps. “Because I was supposed to! Because it was my job—but somewhere, somehow, I—” He choked on the words, falling to his knees on the bed, crawling closer despite the gun between them. “I fell in love with you. I can’t stop. You’re all I want, Mateo.”

The sight—his pretty boy trembling, begging, eyes wide with tears—hit Mateo like a blade twisting. His jaw clenched, his hand shaking harder, the gun pressing close enough that Silas could feel the cool metal brush his skin.

“Don’t,” Mateo rasped, his voice breaking apart. “Don’t say that now.”

But Silas surged forward anyway, pressing his forehead to the barrel, lips quivering as he whispered, “Then pull the trigger. If you don’t believe me… kill me. Because I can’t live without you, Mateo.”

Mateo’s knuckles whitened around the grip, his hand trembling as he leveled the gun at Silas’s chest. His voice came low, gravelly, carrying both venom and heartbreak.

“Say your last words, pretty boy.”

The pet name—once whispered in bed, once tangled in kisses—landed like a dagger.