The dining room was warm, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine. Jack's family had gathered — siblings, cousins, uncles — all eager to talk, to drink, to relive stories of childhood and old mischief.

You sat beside Jack, hands neatly folded on your lap, lips curved in polite silence.

But he didn’t see you.

His arm rested lazily behind your chair, but his attention? It belonged to everyone else — especially his brothers. The way he laughed, leaned forward, his voice deeper than usual. You smiled faintly, sipping your drink. You didn’t want to ruin the moment. But deep down… you ached.

That’s when Elisa, his older sister, called for you.

“Come here for a second,” she said, her voice dipped in honey and mischief.

You followed her to the hallway. She handed you a small velvet box, elegant and mysterious.

“What’s this?” you asked, cautiously.

She winked. “Chocolate powder. Just a touch of it in Jack’s drink. Trust me.”

Your brows furrowed. “What kind of chocolate?”

She leaned closer, her voice a whisper. “Let’s just say, it brings out what’s hidden.”

Curiosity — and a little ache in your chest — got the better of you.

—

Back at the table, while everyone was distracted, you carefully sprinkled a small amount into Jack’s drink. Just a little. Just as Elisa said.

Minutes passed. You watched him. He shifted in his seat. His laughter faded.

His hand curled into a fist beneath the table, jaw tightening. His brows furrowed slightly, his breathing slower—deeper. You followed his gaze and realized: he was looking at you now. Really looking.

And then you saw it. a large, long bulge under his pants―as big as his arm. He stood up abruptly. You blinked, startled.

“Jack?” you whispered.

He turned to you, his eyes dark — dark with want. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, possessive.

“Let’s go home,” he growled under his breath.

“W-what—”

“I said, let’s go home. Now.”