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Summary
He lit a cigarette, inhaled sharply, and stormed into the smoky, pulsing chaos of the nightclub. Music pounded relentlessly in his ears, drowning out the memory of Mello’s cold, dismissive voice.
“Never agreed to be exclusive, huh?” Matt muttered bitterly, exhaling smoke through gritted teeth.
Mello’s casual dismissal replayed cruelly in his mind—every word felt like a knife twisting sharply in his chest. Used. He’d been used. No better than one of Near’s toys. That's all he was to Mello—another pawn. Disposable when convenient.
He tossed back a shot of whiskey, savoring the burn that matched his simmering fury. Eyes glittering with spite, Matt scanned the crowded floor, locking gazes with the first stranger who returned his stare—a dark-haired guy with neck tattoos. Matt stalked forward, determined and reckless.
Oh yeah, he thought, swaying his hips in invitation. Two could be sluts, alright.