Surrender To Me

When I go back to the living room, made up and dressed up, Dante is there waiting. He looks freshly showered and is now wearing chinos and a light sweater that shows a hint of his muscles. We’ve just had sex and I already want him again. He looks up from his phone and… Is that a double take? Can’t be. Whatever it was, it disappears in seconds and his face goes back to the usual cool sardonic mask.

“Do I look okay?” I chose a black, backless cocktail dress with a slit on the side. “I don’t know what kind of party it is.”

“It’ll do.” He turns and marches towards the exit. I have to walk-run in order to catch up and I do so only when we reach the lobby. Rob is already there waiting and so is another guy. New guy? Rob gives me a small smile. New guy leers automatically giving me the creeps. I miss Colin already.

“When will Colin be back?” I ask Dante as we enter the elevator.

“You care too much about that man.”

“Why shouldn’t I? He saved my life.”

“I thought I did that.”

“He almost died.”

“I’ll remember to almost die next time.”

“Hilarious. I’m dying with laughter.”

That’s what I get for asking. I should have known he would not tell me. I turn back to face the door and watch the numbers go down. After we drop a couple of floors, he says, “Colin’s fine. He’ll be back in a week.”

Surprise surprise. I didn’t think he would tell me anything. I legit thought it was going to end with another one of his snarky non-replies.

“You can give him a thank you blow job then.” There it is. He never fails to deliver one. Sadly, I don’t have any response for that. As a result, the car ride to the party was silent. He’s on his phone. He’s always on that thing, more so than any teenager I know. I turn to mine for the first time since he gave it to me. He had it severely restricted, I notice. It has no app store, no Internet browser, and most, if not all, social media apps are unavailable.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

“Is this a child’s phone?” I ask him.

He glances up from his. “What’s the problem this time?”

Unbelievable. “I don’t know? How about there are hardly any apps here? What the actual fuck!”

“Oh that,” he’s nonchalance is infuriating, “I told the tech guy to make it child proof. I guess he went above and beyond.”

“Why would you do that? Where are my contacts? I can hardly communicate with anyone.”

“That is the point. But you can call and text your friend. I checked. Oh. And wanna know what’s cool?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “I can monitor everything you do on it.”

He is crazy. He’s legitimately crazy. “You’re out of your mind! You should be restrained! Put in an asylum!”

“Well, that was part of the deal, wasn’t it? Don’t forget that the reason you’re here is that you’re, in fact, my hostage. You can end it, by giving me my money back.”

My eyes narrow. “Does this mean you no longer suspect me of being a spy?”

“I never said that.” He says it so quickly, it makes me suspicious.

“I think in a way you did. Spying was the priority for you until now. What changed?”

“Nothing. Your neck is still on the line and it’s getting dangerously closer to the edge the more you pester.”

I shake my head. I wish I had never met him. Never came to work at his casino. Frustrated, I look out of the window and mutter, “Fuck you.”

“You already did.” I glance back at him and catch him trying to hide a smile. He must be having fun toying with me. It must be nice to be him.

The rest of the car ride is in silence. Thankfully, there are games on it, childproof indeed, and I play those until we arrive at our destination, a large ranch on the outskirts of the city. I filled the entrance with guards with guns patrolling the perimeter. Security seems tight, but when Colin mentions Dante’s name, the guards immediately open the gates to a white palatial ranch house at the top of a hill and below it is a Sprawling green lawn that must cost a fortune to maintain in this desert.

The party is being held at the back of the house, a garden party, which is in full swing when we arrive. And it’s the definition of a mafia party. All the women are either my age range or younger and the men are of two generations; Middle-aged or in their twenties. Most are in their twenties. The older men are dressed like young men and the young men dressed like the old. It’s as if everyone is desperate to be who they aren’t.

As soon as we enter the crowd, the eyes of everyone in our vicinity fall on us. Dante’s hand goes around my waist, drawing me closer to him as we walk. People give him away. Rob and the new guy don’t have to do anything to give us space. It’s as if they can sense his power.

We make our way towards one gazebo, the largest one amongst a few sprinkled around, where a man about Dante’s age is sitting surrounded by women and champagne. A few other men are standing guard outside the gazebo, looking jaded at the partying going around them.

“Dante!” The man stands up with his arms raised. He has a scar across his cheek, but it does nothing to mar his handsomeness.

“Sandro,” Dante says to him, smiling. He seems genuinely happy to see him and they hug.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

“And miss your birthday? Never.”

“You missed my last one.”

“You were turning thirty-nine. Who cares about thirtynine?”

Sandro laughs, “This guy,” he says to a girl beside him, “he doesn’t look like it, but he’s a comedian.” He turns to me and his demeanor changes to that of a seducer. “And who is this lovely woman you brought with you tonight?”

“Alessandro meet Corina. Corina, Alessandro.”

“Nice to meet you, Alessandro,” I say, extending my hand.

He takes it and kisses it. “The pleasure is all mine, Corina. Please, call me Sandro. All my friends do.” Dante pulls me even closer to his side. Sandro doesn’t fail to notice this and part of me thinks it’s meant for him to see. Sandro laughs and says, “Nice to see you with someone, Dante. I hope he isn’t giving you any trouble, this friend of mine. He can be a little possessive at times.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” I reply. “He practically has me shackled to him.”

He chuckles again. “Please. Please. Sit.” He directs us to a spot next to him. I sit next to Dante, while Dante sits next to Sandro. He hands us two champagne flutes and then he motions to a waiter walking past, “Two more bottles of Dom.” He turns back to Dante and says, “I hope you brought me a gift. You’ve been slacking for these past birthdays,” he says to me, “I always give him gifts, attend his parties if he has any, but this guy never. We’ve known each other for ages. Going back since high school, but I have to beg for a present.”

“I did bring one,” Dante says.

“Where is it?”

“I left it at the registry.”

“Oh! You better not be pulling my leg now! I won’t forget to check.”

“It’s there. A small box wrapped in silver with blue ribbon.”

“Is he telling the truth?” Sandro says to me, “Did he really bring a gift?”

I nod. Dante had indeed left a present at the registry when we came. Sandro stares at me as if he’s looking to see if I’m telling the truth, and for a second, I feel like I’ve been put under the microscope. Then he says, “It must be your influence. He would have never brought anything.”

“You’re being too hard on me.” Dante says and for the next few minutes they playfully argue about their experiences and conflicting memories while I drink the wine and take in the surroundings. One girl sitting next to me is on her phone. The other two are talking to each other. Since I have nothing to do and no one to talk to, the compulsion to stretch my legs gets to me and I get up. Dante’s hand slides to my palm, and he stills me. “Where are you going?” he says.

“I want to dance. I will be over there.”

His stare says no and I’m sure he’s about to voice an objection when Sandro says, “Are you afraid she’ll run into someone else’s arms?” Sandro’s taunt is enough for Dante to let me go. I can see that he doesn’t like the suggestion that I’m his girlfriend, but it seems as if he doesn’t want to correct his friend. Whatever it is, I like the tight position he’s put himself in and I exploit it, “Don’t worry darling. I won’t go far.” He scowls and drops my hand like it’s a piece of hot coal.

I breathe a little easier when I get to the grass, where a lot more people are mingling around. The music is exciting and in no time I am dancing to the beat. Even though I am dancing alone, I can see Rob in the corner of my eye, blocking any men from coming closer to me. It must be an instruction from Dante. I don’t care. After a while, I forget about it all and concentrate on nothing but the dance and the music. I dance and dance until I tire. When I get back to the table, Dante is still talking to Sandro. Their tone is a little more serious now, but still just as friendly. If Sandro’s smile at me when I rejoin them is anything to go by. Dante merely glances at me and immediately forgets I’m there. They’re talking business, from what I can gather. Boring business. They might as well be in a meeting and not a party. I turn to my glass and drink more. A waiter comes along with a tray of beautiful canapes and takes a couple. They taste even better. I gobble that down with more champagne. And soon enough, I need the restroom.

“More dancing?” Dante asks when I get up again.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

“Rob will take you there.”

“Really?” I shake the bracelet at him to say, “if you want to know where I am, you can always check.” He relents and says, “Fine.” All of this doesn’t escape Sandro’s notice who’s now even more amused by us.

“You’re right,” I say to Sandro. “He is a little possessive. It must be love.” Sandro bursts out laughing and I can’t help smiling. Dante, on the other hand, is fuming, throwing daggers with his gaze.

“I like her,” Sandro says, as I leave them, “I hope you keep her around.”

“Don’t count on it,” I hear Dante say, and then they’re out of earshot.

The inside of the house is just as grand as the outside. Everything is expensive and flashy, but not too much to be garish. It’s as every bit like the owner if the little I’ve gathered about him is anything to go by. I make my way to the bathroom, touch up my makeup, side step a couple of girls rushing in to throw up, and return to the party.

“Corina?” The music is loud, but not enough to drown the familiar voice. I turn in its direction and my worst fears are confirmed. It’s Hugh. What’s worse, he’s not alone. He’s with her. I know her alright. She’s the woman who was riding his dick when I walked in on them. It’s hard to forget that curly brown hair. She blushes when she recognizes me. At least she has the decency to be embarrassed.

“What are you doing here?” His question sounds like an accusation. As if he doesn’t think I’m too low on the totem pole to enter a place such as this. I recall our breakup conversation. “I’m a high value man,” he had said, “and I need a high value woman. You’re not it.” The wimp, small dick, two-minute man, had the gall to say that to me.

“I’m here with a friend.”

“Oh?” He seems confused at first, and then understanding dawns on him. “Oh.” He must think I’m a bottle service girl. I want to roll my eyes.

I throw a punch of my own. “What brings you here? This doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“I got a new job. I’m working at the Silver Palace now. It’s my boss’s birthday, he invited me,” he smirks. “Surely you must know this is Alessandro Giordano’s birthday party, right? Or did your handler not tell you?”

“Yes, I am aware.” Fuck this ass of a man. I want to get as far away from him and his sad new girlfriend as possible.

“It’s been nice seeing you.”

“You know, it’s sad to see you stoop so low. If you have money issues, I could have helped you if you asked.”

“So low? Why do you think I’m here?”

“Come on. I think we all know why. All you casino girls are the same. It’s tough competition chasing men in this city, especially someone like you.” I clench my fists to restrain myself from punching his square face. I have no idea why I even thought a repulsive guy like him is handsome.

“For your own information, I was personally invited.”

His smirk grows even wider. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.” I sound like I’m trying too hard to convince him, and I hate it. I want to get out of here and away from him.

“You should-” His gaze flicks away from me to behind me. “Mr. Morelli.”

I feel Dante’s hand wrap around my waist, and I welcome it. He comes to stand beside me. “I was wondering what was taking you so long,” Dante says. “I didn’t know you were with friends.”

“Dante meet…” Dante is ahead of me, “Hugh, I

understand,” he says to him, “The ex-boyfriend.”

“You two are…”

“Dating,” Dante says confidently and pulls me in against him. “I’m the new boyfriend.”