Chapter 6: Steak, Seduction & Sins of the Night
The sun dipped behind the Miami skyline, painting the city in molten gold. After a week of explosions, jet ski takedowns, and rogue flamingos, Vice HQ finally granted the team a night off.
Sgt. Salty leaned back in his leather chair, shirtless as usual, scrolling through his burner phone.
“You know,” Zinshed said, entering in a crisp blazer, “most people wear clothes to dinner.”
Salty grinned. “Only if the steak isn’t spicy enough.”
Tonight’s destination? Le Tabasco Bleu, the trendiest rooftop restaurant in Brickell—equal parts candlelight, cocktails, and covert glances.
Cherry Blaze, usually all business, arrived in a stunning emerald dress that seemed to sparkle with each confident step. Rico nearly dropped his wine glass.
“You look like trouble,” he said.
She smirked. “Then pour another drink.”
Meanwhile, Lila Blaze showed up wearing a silky black number that left very little to the imagination. Salty’s eyes lingered just a second too long.
“Like what you see?” she teased.
“I’m trying to taste the wine through my eyeballs. Not working.”
Zinshed escorted Delphine Noir, who surprised everyone in a satin red jumpsuit and actual laughter.
“I clean up well, no?” she said.
“You always looked dangerous,” Zinshed replied. “Tonight, you’re just dangerously beautiful.”
Dinner passed with laughter, steak so tender it should’ve been illegal, and enough chemistry at the table to power a Tesla. As dessert arrived—flaming bananas foster—Captain Steele texted: “Don’t get arrested tonight. That’s an order.”
Salty clinked glasses with Lila. “We should dance off this steak.”
“Dance or seduce?” she asked.
“Por qué no los dos?”
Enter Club ÉCLIPSE.
A neon cathedral of music, mirrors, and people pretending to be cooler than they were. The Vice squad entered like they owned the night.
Cherry dragged Rico to the dance floor where reggaeton thumped like a heartbeat. “Show me what Chocolate Thunder can do.”
He did. Lord, he did. The man moved like a tidal wave in sync with a drum machine.
Cherry leaned in mid-spin. “I think I just fell in lust.”
He grinned. “We’ll work our way to love.”
Nearby, Zinshed and Delphine danced close—awkward at first, then fluid, familiar. She whispered in his ear.
“You’ve improved.”
“I’ve been practicing... mostly alone in my kitchen.”
Delphine laughed—a sound that made Zinshed’s knees wobble more than her twirls.
Meanwhile, Salty and Lila danced under a disco ball like they were the only two souls left on Earth. The rhythm pulled them close, hips meeting, eyes locked.
“You ever think about us?” Lila asked softly, breath warm on his ear.
Salty spun her, dipped her, and pulled her in again. “Every damn day.”
“Then stop thinking.”
They kissed—slow, deep, like the bass drop in a love song. Around them, club lights flashed, but nothing else mattered.
Back at the bar, Cherry and Rico shared a quiet drink, their shoulders touching.
“You ever feel like this squad is the only place that makes sense?” she asked.
Rico nodded. “Yeah. But maybe… we’re the ones making it make sense.”
She blinked. “That was almost poetic.”
“I’ll take that as a win.”
As the night wore on, the squad danced, laughed, kissed, and forgot—just for a moment—that crime, chaos, and conspiracies were waiting for them in the morning.
For tonight, there was rhythm, romance… and enough heart to light up all of Miami.
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