[BL] The Omega Boss Mafia is Secretly a Pervert?!-Chapter 105: Sharing Dessert & Disaster

When the table was finally cleared and dessert was on its way, Lucien had a terrible premonition.

And of course, the universe decided to bully him: the dessert was one enormous milkshake with two straws twisted together into a heart shape, ending with a double-tip meant for two people to drink in close proximity.

A nightmare. A romantic, pastel-colored nightmare. And worse, it was his favorite sea-salt milkshake.

He stared at it as it betrayed him, like it personally decided to ruin his dignity today.

"I think I’ll pass," Lucien muttered, sinking back in his chair.

"Oh? You are backing out of the bet?"

Edmund asked, already holding one straw like he was seconds away from stealing a kiss from it.

"Does that mean I win?"

Lucien clicked his tongue. Pride was a disease, and he was clearly terminal. He leaned forward and drank from the straw aggressively, hoping to chug this humiliation as fast as possible.

The cold sweetness hit his tongue and annoyed him even more because it tasted amazing, which meant he actually wanted it.

But Edmund moved even faster. Suddenly his cheek was pressed against Lucien’s, drinking alongside him, except he wasn’t drinking at all.

The bastard wasn’t even touching the milkshake. He was just staring at him, eyes half-lidded, like this was some cheesy dating sim scene brought to life.

Lucien could even feel the tiny puff of the alpha’s breath brushing his skin every time he pretended to sip.

Of course, he wasn’t drinking. Edmund hated sweet things.

Lucien snapped and shoved the alpha’s face away with a palm. He snatched the milkshake toward him with a scowl.

"I know you hate sweet stuff. Don’t bother."

"Of course I will bother. It’s the perfect excuse to stare at your beautiful face."

Edmund reached again, and as he did, a dollop of whipped cream smeared across Lucien’s cheek.

The alpha didn’t waste a second. He cupped Lucien’s jaw and leaned in, tongue sweeping over the spot.

"Mm. Sweet," he said with a triumphant smirk.

Lucien gasped, horrified, and scrubbed at his cheek. "Teenagers don’t do things like that! Don’t lick me, you freak!"

Edmund only laughed. "Who said that? Teenagers today are wild. They make out in empty hallways. Should we try that next?"

He wrapped around the omega’s waist, pulling him closer, sticking their bodies together.

Lucien could hear the alpha’s heartbeat, fast and unsteady, and that stupid detail made his chest warm in a way he refused to acknowledge.

Edmund was embarrassed too but still he tried his best and even crumbled his pride. Knowing that made it worse.

But still, Lucien acted the opposite. "You perverted bastard!"

He retaliated by scooping whipped cream onto his fingers and smearing it across Edmund’s cheek.

Edmund didn’t even flinch. He pointed at the cream. "Go on. Lick it. That is peak cringe teen behavior, isn’t it?"

He leaned in, offering his cheek like a challenge, eyes shining like he already knew the outcome.

Lucien frowned, biting back a smile. He hated this. He loved this. He hated that he loved this. But he never backed down from a challenge.

His stomach buzzed with the same nervous excitement he had when they first dated years ago.

It is just a cheek lick. How bad could it be?

He leaned in and licked him. The mix of sweet cream and salty skin was weird, playful, and absolutely stupid. Edmund immediately dabbed more cream onto his face.

"There is still more."

Lucien smacked him lightly. "You are annoying! Do I look like a cat to you?"

He shook his head in disbelief, though the smile he tried to hide kept pushing at the corner of his mouth.

Edmund only laughed harder and kissed his cheek, smearing cream everywhere. Then he started licking him again while Lucien groaned, pushed at him, and grumbled curses under his breath.

Their laughter mixed with the soft breeze of the garden and the distant chatter of staff pretending not to stare.

Despite the chaos, Lucien’s heart was pounding, racing so fast he felt it in his throat.

Somehow, the whole ridiculous date ended with them taking Polaroid photos like teenagers after a first date.

Edmund made stupid poses and Lucien pretended to hate it but kept leaning in closer every time the shutter clicked.

It was genuinely embarrassing; two grown men, twenty-seven and almost thirty, acting like high schoolers hopped up on hormones and dairy, but Lucien couldn’t stop being happy.

And Edmund looked like he could live in this moment forever.

***

The voice buzzed lazily through the earphones as the man stretched his shoulders, staring out at the calm water.

"Yeah, it’s quiet as usual. Nothing is happening out here," he said with a tired sigh.

"Honestly, I don’t know why boss even bothers patrolling the sea. It’s not like the Lucero will come barging in while the Basilisk is still holding the crown."

"Hey! Don’t say stuff like that," the person on the other end snapped, sounding nervous.

"It’s the Don of Lucero. Half the world wants him dead. And with the Twinster gone for a while, we’re supposed to be extra careful."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the lookout muttered, rolling his head in boredom. "Nothing’s gonna happen today, mark my words."

"Don’t jinx it."

He laughed under his breath and casually turned off the communication, already thinking about dinner.

But then a sudden pressure cinched around his throat. For a moment he didn’t even register it; then instinct kicked in, and panic surged through him as the garrote tightened.

He tried to claw at the string cutting into his neck, tried to twist away, tried anything, but the man behind him didn’t budge.

His strength was overwhelming. Oxygen fled his lungs as his face darkened, his hand reaching blindly for the earphone switch he couldn’t find.

The fight drained out of him in seconds, and his body slumped onto the deck.

Behind him, the attacker finally loosened the wire and slipped off his diver’s mask, exhaling slowly as he surveyed the ship.

His men had already taken control without a word. They moved through the ferry with quiet, uncanny coordination, disposing of every corpse by tossing them overboard, a task they carried out with practiced ease.

They didn’t need orders; they already understood what their leader wanted, as if his intentions were woven into their bones.

"Boss," one of them said as he approached, tapping his shoulder, "we’re ready to move. This ship’s got plenty of ammo. We won’t have to worry about supplies anymore."

"Good," the man replied, his gaze lifting toward the island in the distance.

The wind pulled at his long red hair, and above him the sky had darkened, heavy clouds gathering like they were summoned.

A slow, dangerous smile formed across his lips.

Crimson Diablo smirked. "I’m coming for you, Lucien. At least this time, you’ll be mine again."

He crossed his arms, as if ready to claim what was his from the start and ready to fight against anything.

"That kitty won’t have a chance this time. I will make sure to hit where it hurts the most."

The ferry thrummed beneath them as the engines powered up, and in a steady, rising growl, the ship began to cut through the waves; fast, direct, unstoppable.