Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 183

Chapter 183: That Small Velvet Box

"Bro," Tommy cut in, leaning forward with that half-grin he’d stolen from me, "after everything that’s happened between us since we were kids until now, you think I’d judge? You went from virgin to viral to... whatever the hell you are now. I’m just impressed by the character development."

’This is why Tommy’s the ride-or-die. No judgment. No lectures. Just front row tickets to my villain arc.’

"It’s actually two interviews," Madison said, because she lives to narrate my resume. "Wellness center and escort agency. Our boy’s diversifying his portfolio."

Mia tilted her head, then quoted: "From each according to their ability, to each according to their needs."

The table went quiet.

"What?" she shrugged. "I took political theory too. Sex work is work."

"Marry her," I told Tommy instantly. "Like, skip dessert, do it right here."

"Already in the business plan," Tommy said, deadly serious. "Slide forty-seven of the relationship roadmap."

"There’s more slides?" Mia gawked.

"So many more," Tommy said, unflinching. "But dessert first. And possibly shots."

The conversation flowed from there like it always does when we’re running on adrenaline and expensive wine. Tommy talking about his upcoming demo. Mia flexing coding skills like she was auditioning for Silicon Valley. Madison casually plotting out her summer empire.

And me? I was clocking Lea. Queen Lea. Former valedictorian, reigning judgment dispenser. She kept sneaking glances at us, every laugh we shared carving deeper lines into her perfect little expression.

’Good. Let her look. Let her see the man-whore she labeled me turn into the man everyone wants. From insults to invitations. From shame to champagne.’

Then Madison, because she’s chaos personified, dropped her fork and leaned in. "So, should we talk about the elephant in the room?"

"Which one?" I asked. "Pretty sure I’ve got a whole damn zoo by now."

"The fact that after this dinner," she said, voice dripping mischief, "we’re all going back to my place, and things are probably going to get interesting."

Mia nearly choked on her risotto. "Madison!"

"What? We’re legal adults. Well... legally, at least. Apart from, of course Pete and Tommy," She smirked. "Parents are in Cabo. House is empty. Hot tub fits eight. Just saying."

"We couldn’t impose—" Mia started.

"Please," Madison cut her off. "Peter basically has a toothbrush drawer at my place. What’s two more?"

Tommy looked at me like is this actually happening?

I shrugged. With Madison, the answer was always yes.

’From PowerPoint confessions to hot tub sins with his girl. My boy’s life just went IMAX.’

Mia sipped her wine, slowly. Calculating. "I mean... I did bring a swimsuit. Just in case."

Tommy snapped his head toward her. "Just in case? You planned this?"

"I planned for possibilities," she corrected, smirking. "Your PowerPoint taught me the value of preparation."

Tommy groaned. "I’ve created a monster."

"The best kind," Mia said sweetly. Then, to Madison: "Your place it is. But fair warning—Tommy gets handsy in hot tubs."

"I do not!" Tommy barked, scandalized.

"You’re a gentleman until the jets turn on," Mia shot back. "Then suddenly it’s all octopus energy."

’Tommy, the hot tub menace. This night just keeps giving.’

Madison raised her glass. "To new experiences—and comfortable boundaries."

"And PowerPoint presentations," I added.

"And pie charts of attraction," Mia smirked.

"And friends who enable terrible decisions," Tommy finished.

Glasses clinked. Sparkling laughter. Lea’s glare sharp enough to slice glass.

But we were halfway through dessert when Madison’s whole vibe shifted. One second she was sipping her espresso, legs crossed like she owned the damn restaurant, the next she leaned back with that look—the trouble look—the one that meant trouble was coming and I’d better have answers ready.

She tilted her head, lashes batting like she was on a perfume ad. "Can you explain the fuck how you went on two dates in one week with Luna before you ever took me on one, Pete?"

’Oh. Oh. She’s jealous. Great. Add "domestic landmine" to tonight’s menu.’

"It is?" Madison’s voice jumped an octave, sweet poison sharpening. "Yeah, Pete, explain how you skip your Main Wife and go gallivanting with Luna like she’s got seniority."

"Wait, did you just say wife?" I asked.

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