Chapter Text
The next night, Chance stared at himself in the bathroom mirror in silence.
His head felt heavy, chest tight, exhaustion sinking into his bones. Sleep hadn’t helped, neither had the liquor. Everything hurt, but he already promised Two Time and he’d be damned if he broke a promise. He wasn’t a coward…right? Pfft, of course he wasn’t. What a silly thought to even have!
Not wanting to think anymore, he splashes water over his face, muttering, “Pull it together, Chance. Just… pull it together.”
This was supposed to be simple—get Two Time’s intel, walk away, pretend it never happened. Yet it felt like he was walking into something far larger than that, and the thought made his stomach twist. Whatever, he needed something new to take his mind off things, a thrill.
He reached for the satin dress draped on the counter. It strangely fit him perfectly, Chance wasn’t quite sure how Two Time got his measurements, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. From there, things went wonky. The dress’s zipper nipped at his fingers, the dark wig sat heavy and unfamiliar on his head, and the eyeliner almost blinded him when he first tried applying it, but soon someone else stared back at him from the mirror. A young woman with dark hair draped over her shoulders sheepishly smiles at him, the dress caressing her figure. This was someone beautiful, poised…unforgettable. Perfect.
“…Damn,” he whispered, forcing a smirk. “I’m kind of hot.”
His eyes fall on the lipstick placed beside the sink. Hm, it would be a nice addition. The gambler picks it up, uncapping it before applying the crimson rouge upon his lips, smearing it across. It felt as if he was acting out his part in a play, but he was doing that basically, wasn’t he?
The last piece of his ensemble, a little purse waited for him by the door, and before he could force himself out of this plan, he slipped into the heels and stepped into the night.
⸻
The club thrummed with muted jazz and expensive laughter. Gilded fixtures gleamed under soft amber light, and the air was thick with perfume and alcohol. Chance walked like he belonged, heels tapping over marble, head high, posture perfect, and desperately trying to ignore the aching pain in his feet with each step from the heels.
The place was nice, nicer than he thought.The gambler was almost surprised he hadn’t come here before, the finances truly had him busy with work. Maybe…if things changed, he would come here sometime.
He settled at the bar and ordered something expensive-sounding that he’d never drink by choice, but he had to seem like he belonged here and begin to look around through the crowd.
That was when he saw it, freezing at the familiar sight of sharp golden hair and cold-cut sapphire eyes.
iTrapped.
Relaxed, pristine, eyes sharp as if he owned the room. And beside him sat the pinstripe-suited man from the casino—, if Chance remembered right. The one who had stared at him far too long that night, but….that couldn’t be?.
iTrapped hadn’t given him any indication they knew each other, playing along with Chance’s musings last night. Maybe he really didn’t know him, but the way he and the pinstriped man were seated close and talked so…casually didn’t seem like the type of relationship to form in less than a day so what was going on?
Chance’s grip on his glass tightened. Even more what the hell were they doing here? Perhaps iTrapped’s words meant more than he thought.
He forced his body still, lashes low as if he hadn’t noticed them at all. Probably nothing. Probably business. Probably just another rich man with rich friends—handsome, powerful, the type who collected people like trophies and dropped them just as easily.
Still, he could feel it—the weight of someone watching him.
When he glanced up, iTrapped’s eyes were already on him. Not the dress. Not the wig. Him. He could practically feel the sweat on his forehead dropping, oh no.
Their gazes locked, and iTrapped smiled, slow and deliberate, before standing with an unhurried grace that drew attention without asking for it. The crowd seemed to part naturally as he crossed the floor.
Chance held his breath. What the hell was he supposed to do? Running away would make him even more suspicious. He takes a deep breath, he was just being paranoid. Surely, he wasn’t coming to him, probably another cute woman behind him. There was definitely no shortage of them in this club.
“You…” Yep, his illusion of the man not noticing him was cut quick as iTrapped’s voice carried over the music, smooth and precise as he stopped near, close enough for Chance to catch the faint sweetness of his cologne. “…remind me of someone.”
Chance blinked, throat dry. “Oh, now do I?” He tries to be sultry, but voice slipped softer than he’d intended, almost cautious. “Someone important to you?”
iTrapped’s eyes swept over his face, deliberate and slow, his smile curving impossibly deeper. “You could say so, I haven’t seen them in a while.”
The blonde didn’t blink, didn’t even look away. His attention felt heavy, focused entirely on him, like the rest of the club had dissolved into silence.
“Guess I’ve just got one of those faces,” Chance said lightly, forcing a small smile and tilting his glass.
iTrapped’s eyes lingered a moment longer, then softened—not warm, but pleasant in a way that made Chance’s pulse stumble. “You are quite beautiful, I suppose you do.” His voice dropped, low enough to feel like it was meant for Chance alone. He pauses like he’s about to add something, but stops before nodding at him.
With that, he stepped back, returning to the VIP area where the strange man sat waiting, silent and unreadable, gaze still on Chance even as iTrapped sat back down.
Chance turned back to his drink, trying to steady his breathing.
Just a rich man flirting with the ladies, he told himself, swirling the liquid in his glass. That’s all. He didn’t know it was Chance, it was just a coincidence, he probably knew many girls from here.
Yet, his racing heart didn’t seem to believe his words and to be truthful, Chance didn’t want to either.
⸻
He waited for a bit, at least until the loud chatter dipped into casual laughter before slipping quietly from the bar. His pulse quickened—not from fear, but from the rush of stepping somewhere he didn’t belong, the thrill he got from the risk.
His heels clicked softly along the side hallway as he moved with deliberate grace, his borrowed figure swaying with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. This was dangerous, and he liked it.
The office was unmarked, easy to miss, and unlocked, it was almost pathetic. It was like they wanted someone to sneak in. The gambler slid inside, closing the door behind him with care. The room smelled of polished wood and something darker—leather, cigarettes, and cologne— a familiar scent to him yet he couldn’t remember from where.
Chance crouched by the filing cabinets, flipping quickly through membership logs and invoices, his breath quick and shallow. Just a name, a connection, anything that Two Time’s companion could have left behind—
“Ma’am?”
Shit, he had been so focused he hadn’t heard the door freak open. His shoulders stiffened at the voice as he turned around hesitantly. “O-oh, I apologize. I must have lost my way, these hallways are so confusing you know?” His voice sounds painful and squeaky as he laughs airily.
A security guard filled the doorway, tall and built like a wall leaving no escape, arms crossed. “This area isn’t for guests. You’ll have to come with me.”
Shit shit, Two Time would end him if he messed this up. “Oh no, sir I think you got this all wrong—“
“She’s with me.”
The sudden voice was calm, but carried weight if how the guard froze was anything to go by.
From behind the guard stepped the man in the pinstripe suit—the same one who had been sitting with iTrapped, the one whose stare had lingered too long, too focused. His eyes were on Chance now, steady and unreadable, but with a flicker of something else. Something strange.
The guard hesitated. “Sir, she was—”
“Looking for me.” The man’s words were smooth, final. He approached, extending a gloved hand toward Chance. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
The pet name made him want to cringe, but this was the perfect change to escape so Chance eagerly rushes to slip his hand into his before he could think, plastering on a coy smile. “Of course sweetie, I just got lost… you know how I’m terrible with hallways.”
The guard glances between the two of them before receiving a stern look from the man and nods before rushing off.
His grip was firm, confident, pulling Chance subtly closer until there was barely a breath between them. He leaned down, voice dropping to something that felt too close to intimate. “You’ve got a taste for trouble, don’t you?”
Huh? Chance’s heart stuttered, but he tilted his head up, playing into the thrill with a smirk. He could play this game too. “Hm, well maybe I like a little excitement.”
The man’s mouth curved faintly, his eyes sliding over Chance’s face—not in the way he’s seen most people glance ar him, but slower, deliberate, as if memorizing. His hand moved, brushing a loose strand of the wigged hair from Chance’s cheek, fingers grazing just enough to make the air feel heavy.
“You should be careful where you look for it.” His voice was softer now, the kind of quiet that filled every inch of space between them. “You know, not everyone’s as forgiving as I am.”
Chance’s throat felt dry for a moment, though he disguised it with a practiced laugh. “Perhaps I just need the right guide.”
The man’s thumb lingered for a second longer at his jawline before falling away. His eyes stayed locked on Chance’s, unreadable, but too steady. Too sharp. “Maybe you do.”
Then he stepped back, cool and composed once again, gesturing toward the empty office, the security long gone. “You should go while he’s gone, you won’t get a chance like this again.”
Before Chance can say anything, the man walks off leaving the gambler standing alone, heart pounding but face calm, exhilaration thrumming through his veins. This was what he lived for—the risk, the heat of almost being caught, the way his disguise held even under eyes like that.
And yet, as he rushed back into the office, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the man hadn’t been fooled at all.