Surrender To Me

DANTE

She’s a witch. The minute I leave her room and enter mine,

I already want a drink. And a cold shower. Her mere presence put me under a spell so intoxicating it made me forget why she was here and what she’s done and why I was placing a tracker on her. The only thing that remained in my head was how quickly it would take me to remove the luggage off the bed, drag her to it, and fuck her on it. The moment I touched her hand, I didn’t want to let go. She felt smoother than I had imagined. Her skin was silky soft and warm. Reminding myself of why I was doing this made me leave. Otherwise, the worst could have happened.

Speaking of which, I make my way to my laptop to make sure the tracker is working. A red dot is flashing on a map, giving me the coordinates of her room. Great. I check the app on my phone as well and it shows the same result.

As long as she is in sight, I am calm. I still haven’t gotten over what Gio told me. It is a game changer. I have an ace card under my roof and from what Sal has gathered so far; it didn’t seem like Saccone or any of his people are aware of who she is, even though she is working for them. But I must confirm this. Make sure they think she’s dead and then see how they react. I make a call to Sal.

“Are you still connected to our link?” I say as soon as he picks up.

“Yes. Tell them she’s dead.”

“Dead? Are you sure?”

“I want to see their reaction.”

“Right. Of course. What about her colleagues?”

“I’ll deal with that.” I end the call and call my manager and tell him she’s resigned. He accepts this without question. We have a high turnover with the dealers, anyway. Some choose to become strippers or enter other forms of sex work when they realize those avenues make more money in the city. So, it makes sense. The only other person who needs to be placated is Jesse, the roommate. That wouldn’t be hard. Fuck. I rush back to her room and find her in the middle of typing something on her phone. I snatch it out of her hand.

“What the fuck!”

“Phone privileges are gone.”

“How am I supposed to tell Jesse the excuse, then? That’s my homework, remember?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She throws her hands in the air and shakes her head. I barge out of her room feeling like a brute. The feeling is inappropriate, however, when she is about to send a text to her apparent ex-boyfriend. “Please…” That’s all she texted before she could text more. Please what? Please come and rescue me. Please help me. I checked to see if she had sent something else. The only texts in this thread, for at least the past couple of weeks, are from this Hugh guy. A lot of “I’m sorry,” “I love you,” and “Take me back.” He even expresses the same sentiment in cringe-worthy stickers and gifs. Yikes, is my first thought, but what if it’s code? I let that hang while I go to the other text messages. Apart from Hugh, nothing on her phone seems interesting. One would assume she’s a boring person leading an average life.

As for her roommate, they only talk about either covering each other for work, mostly Jesse asking Corina to cover for her, or whether one of them is sleeping elsewhere that night. Again, all being Corina asking Jesse and, from the looks of it, Jesse is the one with the nightlife. Corina’s is non-existent for someone who’s a plant. Even her work schedule suggests the opposite. She does nothing but work. But then again, if I was a plant, I would make sure I was at work all the time.

She’s an enigma. But I’m sure I’ll figure her out. I woke up the following morning feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. Something kept me awake, but I’m not sure why and I’m sure it’s only a coincidence that Corina was in the next room and my thoughts kept drifting to her from time to time. Colin and Rob are already in the kitchen when I get there together with Vera. She’s making breakfast while the two are on opposite corners drinking coffee. The picture is normal except… Someone’s missing. Corina.

“Where is she?” I blurt it out without thinking of the perfunctory greetings. Vera glances up from her cooking, “I’m here.”

“She’s still in her room,” Colin says. I turn and make my way back to her room. As I leave the kitchen, I hear Vera ask, “Is there another person I don’t know about?”

I reach her room and swing open her door. She stands opposite the vanity mirror touching up her face. She stares at me through the mirror nonplussed and goes back to applying her mascara. “For all the barging in you like to do,” she says, “You should just remove the door altogether. It seems to hinder you.”

I step inside and shut the door behind me. “We need to establish some rules. First: You should be up before eight and in the kitchen or the living room.”

She cocks an eyebrow and drops her mascara pen. “I was on my way. Where else am I supposed to be?”

I thought you had escaped. But I don’t say it aloud. The anxiety she put me through yesterday was something she wasn’t supposed to know. She could take advantage of it, or worse, escape.

“Let’s go.”

She glares at me once more through the mirror, drops her shoulders, and gets up. She looks beautiful. The makeup she was applying was soft and natural. Less like the dramatic night makeup she must put on as a casino dealer. The urge to tell her she looks lovely is on the tip of my tongue as she glides over to me. As we’re walking to the kitchen she says, “By the way, your man, Tiny, left some of my stuff,” she says.

“Tell me what it is and he will get it for you.”

“It’s, uh, it’s somewhere… it’s difficult to explain exactly where it is.”

“What is it?”

“It’s kinda embarrassing.” I can smell her bullshit a mile away.

“Trust me, my ears are accustomed to hearing embarrassing things.”

“Promise me you won’t laugh.”

“I have no sense of humor.”

“I can tell,” she mutters under her breath. Louder, she says, “There’s a plush I need.”

“Plush?”

“Teddy bear.”

I stop to stare at her. She’s blushing, I notice. She seems genuinely embarrassed as she plays with the bracelet. “A teddy bear?”C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

She looks away. “Yes. Whenever I feel anxious about things, like,” she waves her hands around, “right now, I find comfort in having my plushy around.”

“I’ll tell Tiny to get your plushy,” I say, and march out in front of her. When I get to the kitchen, I feel a pull on my jacket. I turn to see her big watery doe eyes staring back at me. Fuck. How can I say no to this?

“Please. I tucked it someplace where I’m sure he wouldn’t find it,” her head droops, “It’s kinda a secret of mine.”

I want to say no. I want to tell her to fuck off and forget about her plushy, but I can’t. If anything, I want to be the one to get that plushy for her. It’s a weird mix of emotions bouncing inside me and surprises me. I say, “Fine. We’ll go get your toy.”

She smiles and then it falters. “We?”

“Yes. Tiny has shit to do, and I’m free this morning.”

Her smile comes back again, but it’s weary. “Great.”

We enter the kitchen, and I introduce her to Vera. She gives me a cryptic look as she gives me my breakfast. A look that I don’t have time to decode. I’m too busy trying to parse Corina’s earlier conversation and whether I’m walking into a trap. It’s odd for an adult human being to be attached to a toy, but it’s not anything I’ve never heard of. I look up from my breakfast when I hear her moan and say, “Holy shit, these are some good pancakes.” Her eyes are closed as she chews in a state of ecstasy. I almost feel jealous of the pancakes and Vera, wishing I was the one bringing out this kind of reaction.

Vera seems to appreciate it and says, “Thank you. It’s not every day that I get someone who likes my cooking.” “I like it,” I hear Rob say.

She slaps him. “Not nearly enough.” To Corina, she says, “If you want more there’s some over here.”