Page 17 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)

Ten

MATT

T he dimly lit ambiance of the Michelin-starred restaurant exuded an air of exclusivity, catering to the city’s wealthiest patrons.

Waiters glided through the room with practiced grace, carrying silver trays laden with culinary masterpieces.

Matt’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the well-heeled guests adorned in evening attire, before settling on Andy, who sat across from him.

Andy’s eyes were alight with unabashed delight as he savored each bite of the exquisite cuisine before him. The table was a veritable feast, boasting a tantalizing array of dishes that showcased the chef’s mastery of flavor; every detail screamed extravagance.

“Starving, hmm?” Matt commented, a hint of amusement in his voice. “It seems I’ve created a monster with your newfound appreciation for fine dining.”

Andy smirked.

“How’s the steak?” he asked.

“It’s amazing,” Andy mumbled around a mouthful before swallowing.

Matt’s gaze lingered on the faint mark that peeked out from beneath the collar of Andy’s shirt. It was a mark of possession, a reminder of their earlier encounter. The memory stirred something primal in him, but he kept his composure.

“You wanted to eat out,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair. “I hope this meets your expectations.”

Andy nodded vigorously, too busy enjoying another bite to respond verbally. His contentment was evident in every chew and satisfied sigh. Despite himself, Matt found it endearing.

Andy had been adamant about going out for dinner after their steamy session in the bedroom.

He’d insisted that they needed to get out of the penthouse.

Matt knew it wasn’t just about wanting a change of scenery; Andy didn’t want to be alone with him where things could escalate further.

Out here, among other people, Andy felt safer from Matt’s advances.

But even here, Matt couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to thoughts of Andy on his lap, feeding him bites of dessert between kisses. He knew it was exactly what Andy was attempting to avoid.

“So,” Matt said after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “anything else you’d like to try?”

Andy’s eyes sparkled as he glanced at the dessert menu. “Maybe… everything?”

Of course, it’d be everything, and Matt chuckled in amusement before turning his attention to his own food.

His palate relished the rich, earthy notes of the truffle adorning his Wagyu beef.

The meal was exceptional, but it was the anticipation of what would follow that truly whetted his appetite.

His mind couldn’t help but dance with images of Andy later that evening, their bodies entwined in a passionate encore.

The hum of conversation and clinking of fine china filled the room, yet all it took was a familiar voice to draw Matt’s attention away from his culinary reverie.

“Well, well, look at what we have here,” a voice carried across the dining space with a tone of playful surprise.

Matt glanced up to see Tory, the embodiment of carefree elegance, and in his arms hung a woman whose beauty rivaled the artistry on their plates. Her eyes raked over Andy with unabashed interest.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Tory continued, a teasing lilt in his voice. “And with such delectable company, no less.”

Matt quirked a brow, his lips curving into a sardonic smile. “Jealous? You know I’ve always had impeccable taste.”

“Impeccable taste?” Tory scoffed, his gaze sweeping over Andy’s casual attire. “Since when do you bring your conquests to a place like this?”

“Who said anything about a conquest?” Matt countered smoothly, his fingers toying idly with the stem of his wineglass. “Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”

Tory barked out a laugh. “You? Commitment? Now I’ve heard everything.”

The woman in Tory’s arms leaned in, her eyes gleaming with interest as she appraised Andy. “He’s cute,” she said, a playful lilt to her voice. “Maybe we should invite him over for a nightcap?”

Matt’s pointed stare was immediate and unmistakable. His stormy eyes bored into her, sending a clear message: Andy was off-limits. The possessiveness in his gaze was as fierce as the dragon tattoo that coiled around his shoulder.

Tory burst out laughing, the sound rich and unrestrained. “Oh, you should see your face, Matt,” he chortled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said to the woman at his side, “tonight will just be the two of us. Our friend Matt here seems to have staked a rather exclusive claim.”

Andy finally tore his attention away from the gourmet feast before him, curiosity piqued by the interaction. “Who’s this?” he asked, directing his question at Matt but looking at Tory.

Tory flashed a smile, all charm and easy grace. “I’m Tory Masuda,” he said with an amused twinkle in his eye. “Matt’s friend since we were teens—along with James Maxwell, Mark Sinclair, and William Bosworth. The big shots of Vegas, as some like to say.”

Andy nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of them,” he admitted. “They’re quite the legends around here.”

“Ah, but have you heard of me?” Tory pressed, preening like a peacock. “The most dashing, debonair, and downright delightful of the bunch?”

A sheepish grin tugged at Andy’s lips. “Actually, yeah. My best friend’s brother is kind of obsessed with you, practically worships the ground you walk on. Says you’re the coolest guy around.”

“Does he now?” Tory’s brows shot up, his interest piqued. “And who might this enamored sibling be?”

“Ethan Collins,” Andy supplied readily. “He works at The Maxwell’s casino as a dealer. You should meet him sometime.”

Interest piqued in Tory’s dark eyes. “Ethan?” he echoed thoughtfully. “I think I might need to meet this paragon of admiration sometime.”

Matt watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. Trust Andy to charm even the most boisterous of his friends with that disarming, unassuming manner of his. As if sensing his gaze, Andy’s eyes flicked back to him, a silent question in their depths.

Matt’s lips curved into an amused smirk as Tory and his companion finally took their leave, the air around them charged with Tory’s usual exuberance. Andy’s gaze lingered on their retreating figures before turning back to Matt.

“He’s nice, isn’t he?” Andy said, his voice tinged with genuine fondness.

Matt raised an eyebrow. “You think Tory’s nice?”

Andy’s cheeks flushed. “Well, yeah. He seems like it. Don’t you think so?”

“And I’m what? Chopped liver?” Matt quipped, feigning offense.

A laugh escaped Andy before he could stop it. “No, you’re not chopped liver. You’re more like… caviar.” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “Expensive and acquired taste. And maybe just a bit… overbearing.”

Matt couldn’t help it; laughter bubbled up from deep within him, rich and unrestrained. “Overbearing?” he echoed with mirth. “You wound me, pup.”

Andy’s smile wavered as he bit his lip, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his jest.

Dinner concluded with an array of decadent desserts—velvety chocolate mousse, crème br?lée with a perfectly torched top, and a selection of artisanal cheeses. Once the plates were cleared and the bill settled, they made their way to the car waiting outside.

During the drive, Matt couldn’t help but notice Andy fidgeting in his seat.

His fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh, and he glanced out the window with a distracted air.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was on Andy’s mind—the earlier passion simmering between them had left its mark.

“Relax,” Matt said softly, leaning closer to Andy. “How about we take a stroll? Walk off some of that food.”

Andy’s eyes lit up with relief. “Yes,” he replied quickly. “That sounds perfect.”

They stepped out onto the bustling Strip, the neon lights casting vibrant hues across their faces. The air was warm and alive with energy—the heartbeat of Vegas pulsing around them.

As they walked side by side, Matt watched as Andy’s tension melted away.

He seemed to come alive amid the spectacle, his eyes wide with wonder as they passed by replicas of world wonders and cascading fountains dancing to symphonic melodies.

They strolled past luxurious storefronts where mannequins posed in high couture behind glass walls and through throngs of tourists eager to capture memories with their cameras.

Matt watched Andy drink in the sights with childlike glee—a stark contrast to his usual fierce independence—and something within him softened. The noise and clamor of Vegas fell away; all that mattered in that moment was the joy radiating from the young man beside him.

As they approached a street magician pulling coins from thin air, Andy’s laughter mingled with the collective gasps and applause around them—a sound so pure it drowned out even the heartbeat of Vegas itself.

“This place is something else,” Andy murmured, eyes wide with wonder as they passed a street performer juggling flaming torches.

“Vegas is many things,” Matt agreed. “But it never fails to entertain.”

They continued their leisurely stroll, weaving through crowds of tourists and locals alike.

Andy stopped to admire a particularly skilled magician performing sleight-of-hand tricks for an enthralled audience. Matt found himself captivated not by the magician but by Andy’s unguarded expression—a mixture of innocence and curiosity that seemed almost out of place in this city of sin.

As they walked farther down the Strip, Matt reached out and took Andy’s hand in his own—a bold move that earned him a surprised glance from the younger man but no resistance.

An hour later, as they stepped back into the quiet opulence of the penthouse, Andy made a beeline for the bathroom with the urgency of a man escaping a burning building.

“I’ll just go clean up and get ready,” he threw over his shoulder, not meeting Matt’s gaze.