Serving Mr. Serrano

An Irresistible Offer

I didn't become a hooker by accident.

I knew exactly what I was doing when I met my first client all those years ago.

You see, there were no scholarships or exceptional academic records for me. My family and I moved around way too much for any of us to focus on school. However, by the time I "graduated from high school", I had an arsenal of skills at my disposal. Among those skills was the ability to do pretty much anything with a computer. Of course, I chose to use those skills for illegal s**t because I was already way too deep in the underworld to resurface.

After going out on my own, I took a bunch of jobs to keep myself clothed, housed and fed. The work I got came from criminals and corrupt businessmen.

One of the jobs I took landed me in some really bad, super f****d-up s**t and I ended up working for this guy they called Big Terry. He was a mean, nasty f**k who got off on beating women and f*****g people over. I decided not to take the job on principle. A girl has to have some lines.

Unfortunately for me, Big Terry was a man with resources, which made him privy to all kinds of information. For one, he knew the truth about who I really was and threatened to expose my identity to everyone in the underworld if I didn't work for him.

Permanently.

Scared out of my mind, I agreed.

After all, there were other people who would get hurt if that truth came out. I couldn't risk their safety to save my own ass.

I spent two months under Big Terry's employment, working the desk with one of his guards constantly watching me so I wouldn't steal from him or f**k him over. Being my mother’s daughter, I plotted every minute I sat in that chair.

I gathered information and saved up some money, intent on ducking out as soon as I could with a few other girls I'd befriended.

I got caught, of course, because one of the women I was trying to save told Big Terry everything.

He beat me that night.

Beat me until I begged for mercy.

Beat me until it hurt to breathe.

He grew wary of me then, and instead of keeping me on desk duty, he put me to work in one of his brothels.

It was no LPM, but it was a classy little place. Classy enough to attract a man like Jeffrey Black anyway.

I knew Mr. Black by reputation, and rumour had it he was a nastier f**k than Big Terry. He was more powerful, with more money and more resources than even Big Terry could dream of. I knew that if I wanted out, I'd need him as an ally.

I bided my time, charming and seducing him until I had him wrapped around my finger. It didn't take much to convince him to take me with when he left, the man was so starved for affection that he was practically smitten with me after a few days.

Shit, he didn't hesitate to bury Big Terry when I told him everything he'd put me through. I stayed with him for almost two years, choosing to leave after he proposed to me with a ring the size of a f*****g planet. Safe to say we didn't part on the best of terms, so I skipped the territory and returned home to Nito after being away for almost two decades.

I got a job at LPM because I knew I'd be protected under the Serrano name. I adopted a new identity and erased all of my history so he couldn't track me down…

But he did, eventually.

I was photographed with athletes, politicians, businessmen and millionaires all the time. Him catching up to me was inevitable, really. So instead of returning to his house, where I'd be just another wealthy man’s prisoner, I offered him my services.

And not the ones I was employed for at LPM.

Hacking, theft, hits, assassinations, information - literally anything he wanted.

I was more useful to him this way than on my back, I argued, and after he got past the bruised ego, he realised that too. So for the last three years, Black had me working odd jobs for him. Nothing so far that had anything to do with SERPENT business. Nothing even remotely related to Dominic Serrano.

Until today. And for the first time in three years, I wished with every fibre in my being that I hadn't made such a vow.

***

Mr. Jeffrey Black picked me up in a sleek Rolls Royce from an old library building a few blocks from my new apartment. I’d had to meet him here, away from the guards that had been watching me for days. I didn't know who had sent them, or why they were watching me, but they couldn't belong to Black.

I suspected they might belong to one of my former clients, but I couldn't be sure. Of course, I couldn’t tell Black that I had a small army watching over me for two weeks. He would react badly to the news if he knew I had managed to lure another powerful man into my bed. Jeffrey was as much a jealous man as any, and he still considered me his property.

To save myself from a gruelling interrogation, I had lost the armed squad before ducking into the five-storey, historical building and then exited through another door before sliding into the vehicle. Once we were cruising down the polished streets, Black briefed me.

"Encrypting files. Anyone can do that."

“Those files have extremely sensitive information in them. I trust you to be a professional and maintain your discretion.”

I let out a breath, and glanced at him for the first time in five minutes. “Does Serrano know you’re operating in his territory, Jeffrey?”

“I don’t have to share anything with you anymore, dove. You set the rules of engagement for this, remember?” he replied, keeping his gaze on the partition window in front of him. “Besides, I can’t trust you not to run to him with this. Especially after your little… episode at the theatre.”

My silence spoke volumes. Jeffrey finally fixed his hawk-like gaze on me, reading everything from my expression with the ease of a man who’s known me for years. Satisfied that he had caught me off guard, he returned his attention to the glass.

“You will do the job, then go home as if nothing happened. Should Serrano learn about our little arrangement, I will not hesitate to tell him exactly who you are, my little dove,” he warned. It was all I could do not to punch him in his annoyingly handsome face, or yell at him for putting me in such a compromising situation.

Before I could respond or react to his cold, bitter threat, we pulled up in front of Rivera Logistics. He assigned two of his guards to escort me into the building and watch over me while I worked. The last thing he said before he drove off was, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Not sure what I would be asked to do this time, I had dressed professionally - a black pant suit with a white blouse and matching heels - and as I walked into the lobby, I was glad I did. A few people glanced my way as the unnamed guards led me to the elevators, then to the very last office of the very top floor.

While the lobby and reception area had been swarming with people, this part of the building was relatively empty. There were two guards standing on either side of the door, hands clasped in front of them. Their reserved stances didn't hide the guns in their holsters, though, and I stopped in front of them instead of soldiering in.

One of them checked my bag while the other searched me for weapons. I kept my expression blank and my eyes fixed on a stain on the door while he patted me down.

Arms, torso, hips, legs. I noticed the way his hands lingered on my breasts, my ass and my thighs. And when he rose to his full height, he brushed a hand between my legs, very slowly.

I didn't react.

I could sort him out later.

The other guard handed me my bag while they checked Black's men for weapons. The door to the office opened then, and a handsome older man appeared with a polite smile spread across his face. Brown eyes, brown hair, pearly white teeth and a suit that probably cost more than all my belongings combined. He stepped aside to let me in just as the guards concluded their business and I brushed past him into the office.

It's masculine, with exaggerated browns and obnoxious windows. The walls are lined with pictures of his family, a wife and daughter. I didn't recognize either, so I moved on to the shelves of books I was certain he had never read before in his life.

The door closed as I came to a stop behind one of the chairs, but I chose not to sit. More out of respect, because I didn’t know what kind of man this Rivera was.

And Mr. Black didn't give me any indication on how to act.

So I greeted first, holding out my hand for him to shake and bestowed him with my third-best smile. He took my hand in response, his grip firm and abrupt. He offered me a seat, and briefed me.

"I need the files in a secure folder that only I will be able to access. And I don't mean a poorly protected folder with a password anyone can crack. I need Presidential-level security on this."

Probably covering his tracks.

A part of me wondered if the files he was hiding may be related to the Serrano Enterprises business he conducted with Dominic. Everyone knew the Riveras and the Serranos had been in bed with each other for decades. But I pushed the thought aside and replied, "That shouldn't be difficult. I've assisted a few other clients with the same, so I should be done with it in a day or–"

He shook his head, steepling his fingers together with elbows resting on the table. A smile flashes across his face, though it has a hint of impatience and irritation in it. It's meant to dull the edges of his next comment, I think.

"Mr. Black guaranteed your skills were exceptional. If I'd known he was exaggerating your talents, I wouldn't have wasted my time."

See? Told you.

I slowly arched my brow. I couldn't help it.

He responded to it by smiling again, so I stood up with every intention to leave, but one of his men pushed me back into my seat a second later. I plopped down with a grunt, and winced when the pain in my shoulder flared up.

"Mr. Rivera, if I'm such a waste of time-"

"I apologise, Ms. Conteh, for my rudeness."

I nodded, nostrils flaring.

"I need this done today. My men will stay here with you until you're done to ensure you finish the job. Your performance today will determine whether or not you get to leave. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours."

And that was it.

I was directed to Mr. Rivera's chair, where I sat down, with his guards standing watch behind me. Black's men stood by the door, watching diligently. I flexed my fingers and leaned down to retrieve my bag, removing my glasses. After pushing them up on the bridge of my nose, I got started.

After two hours, I was almost done. It wasn’t a difficult job, mind you. I'd done this plenty of times before on much larger hard drives. I just hated doing it. Hated having to change my plans because this random man needed to hide s**t from the ISA or Serrano or his auditors.

But I did my job, and when Mr. Rivera returned to his office four hours later, his files were so carefully encrypted that even the best of his staff couldn't get through.

I accepted his thanks, the bag of money and gladly signed the NDA they presented to me, none of them aware that the USB I'd plugged into the hard drive had uploaded a SHADOW programme I'd designed years ago.

The unnamed guards follow me out of the office, into the elevator and all the way into the lobby. It's lunchtime, so there are people coming in and going out of the large building. None of them even noticed when we left.

"And?" Black asked when I slid into his car.

"I did as he asked." And carefully left out the part about the spyware I'd uploaded onto his network.

"Good girl," he praised. He placed his larger hand on top of mine, silently conveying his pleasure at my obedience. I gritted my teeth and pulled away from his touch, my gaze locked on the window.

“You will not sleep with him, dove.”

Pissed at his condescending tone, I turned to him and asked, “Who says I haven’t already?”

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with that terrifying possessiveness. His fingers closed around my jaw, holding me firmly so he could stare into my eyes. There, he saw the truth, and his expression softened as though I had hurt him. “When will you stop this? When will you stop punishing me and come home?”

I jerked free, revolted by his touch. “You have no right to ask me that after what you did. I will never be yours again, Jeffrey, and this was the last job I will ever do for you. Don’t call me ever again. And if you tell Serrano about my past, I will expose you.”

I flung the door open in mid-traffic, leaving it open as I fled the confines of his car. I slipped into the closest public building I could find, and hid there until I was certain he had left. Emotionally drained and anxious, I took a bus back to Nito North and walked from the stop to my apartment.

I immediately spotted a black SUV parked across the street, windows tinted to keep their identities hidden from me. I ignored them, too wrapped up in my own thoughts to care that they were there at all. And after today, I was actually grateful for their presence. But I would never admit that out loud to whomever it was. Not even if they finally showed themselves.

I padded inside, dumping my things on the table by the door. I watched the sunset with a glass of wine in one hand and a joint in the other, today's curious events playing through my head. After ordering a box of pizza and wolfing it down like an animal, I showered and changed into my favourite Darth Vader sleep shirt.

Exhausted from the day I'd had and lulled by the joint and Bordeaux red, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

***

I was startled awake in the middle of the night from a very vivid, very steamy dream where Dominic had been chasing me in a dense forest. When he caught me, he pinned me down to the dirty, damp ground and ripped off the rags I'd been wearing.

My eyes snapped open just before he slid his c**k inside me and I gasped into the silent room, my breathing laboured and shallow. I cursed, placing a clammy palm on my damp forehead with an exasperated sigh.

"Bad dream?"

I shot up in bed, my hand immediately reaching for the gun I'd taped behind the bed. I clicked off the safety and turned on the lamp, aiming the weapon at the hulking figure folded in the chair. My finger teased at the trigger, ready to fire despite the wave of relief that washed over me when I recognised Dominic.

"As thrilling as the idea of Russian Roulette is, I'd highly recommend you put that weapon down before you get yourself hurt."

"Get myself hurt? Honey, I'm the one holding the gun. And you're not exactly in a position to give me orders, considering how you've absolutely no right to be here. What the f**k are you doing in my apartment, Dominic?"

I lowered the gun anyway, clicking on the safety and stashing the gun back into its place on the wall. I didn't dare look away from him unless he moved, and who knew what the f**k he'd do then.

But then again, if he wanted me dead, I would be already.

So…

"Why are you here, Dominic?" I repeated, my tone betraying my irritation. "Last time we saw each other, you promised to never bother me again."

My eyes skimmed over him briefly, noting his impeccable, tailored armour of expensive wool, cotton and silk. The impossibly pristine mask keeping his actual feelings hidden from me, the casual manner with which he reclined in my chair.

His hair was the only thing that wasn't perfect about him.

That and his eyes, which seemed almost empty tonight. They held none of the usual emotion they usually did, and I wondered why he was trying so hard to keep his real feelings hidden from me.

He didn't speak, just sat there watching me silently, arms settled on the armrests as if he was expecting to be there a while. He didn't once blink, or move, or even breathe, which made me feel a little self-conscious.

I was suddenly aware of how my pyjamas had ridden up high around my thighs, the sheets bunched around my knees. I wasn't wearing any underwear, so if he lowered his gaze, he'd likely see between my legs.

Remarkably though, Dominic kept his blank gaze on my sleep-swollen face. The dark orbs roaming over my features as if he were hoping to find something telling there. I blinked slowly, trying to look past the stony expression to figure out what the f**k was going on.

How did he get in without tripping my alarm?

How long had he been here, sitting comfortably in my chair and staring at me while I slept?

My pulse began to race with fear, but I carefully hid that behind indignation and anger. I glared right back at him, though I couldn't possibly reciprocate the severe intensity. It was impossible to put even a fraction of all that ferocity into a look without concentrating all of your effort into it, so I kind of just looked at him instead.

I took in his eyes, the windows to whatever he had in the space reserved for his soul, with all of their infinite depth. The hard, powerful muscles of his body that stretched the fabric of his suits so well, and the way they came together so beautifully to make… him.

And my goodness, his face…

There was nothing like it.

I saw it more than I ought to in my dreams lately, and when I wasn't dreaming about it, I hoped to catch sight of it, of him, so it would stop the aching inside of me. How could someone so beautiful, so carefully, wonderfully sculpted, have so much anger, resentment and hatred within him? How could he be so ruthless, so dangerous and deadly when he looked like this? Maybe the devil crafted his best minions to look like angels so they could tempt you that much easier into sin.

"I can't read you," he said suddenly, his voice raising goosebumps all over my skin. "I can't seem to get a good handle on the kind of person you really are. That bothers me."

I was quiet for a while, trying to figure out what the appropriate response to his statement should be. I let my gaze roam over his features, carefully studying them in the warm, intimate light cast by the lamp.

"Why does who I am matter to you?" I asked, gently.

His jaw clenched a fraction, and his gaze lowered to my neck, the mounds of my t**s hidden behind the cotton.

"I can't seem to stay away, and I don't understand why. If I could easily forget you, I wouldn't be sitting here instead of sleeping in my own bed."

Surprised at his honesty, I was left speechless for the few seconds it took me to process his words. I absently rubbed my arms, the weight of his gaze heavy as he glared at me.

"Last time we saw each other, I almost made the grave mistake of letting my control slip and giving into my most basic instincts. Despite the disastrous consequences that would have arisen from that decision, I find myself here," he said, gesturing to my apartment.

"Disastrous consequences?"

"You know who I am, what I do. I've already shown favouritism towards you. I'm very much aware of the… soft spot I have for you. It makes me reckless where you're concerned. I don't need a weakness, Eden."

"And am I? Your weakness?"

I spoke without thinking, and I hoped he wouldn't retreat back into himself before we finished discussing this. His eyes darted between mine, as if he was suddenly uncertain of how to proceed, of what to say.

"I am not really sure what you are, honestly. But I cannot allow you to turn me into some horny, barbaric savage who can think of nothing except mounting you."

I tilted my head in question, curious.

"Alright. So you plan on mounting me?" I queried, frowning.

"It wouldn't have been my first choice."

I blinked, started over. "So f*****g me is now a bad idea?"

"It was never a good idea to begin with."

"Why did you then? f**k me, I mean?"

"Because I wanted to. Besides the fact that you're a gorgeous specimen of a woman, you provide a sense of peace that I've been chasing for a while. And now that I've tasted it, I want more. That puts me at a disadvantage."

"But you still want me, regardless?"

"Yes."

"For another night?"

"No."

"… more than a night?"

"Yes, but I am not entirely certain what would follow that," he confessed. "All I know at the moment is that I cannot keep pushing this off, pretending that I do not want you when I so obviously do."

I pushed the loose tendrils of hair off my forehead, wiping the sweat off my skin with the back of my hand.

"How did you even find me? I moved from the apartment you assigned me. I'm not even listed under my real name. I assumed you wouldn't be able to find me."

"That's a naive assumption, Eden."

I sighed, and with exasperation in my voice, I asked, "What do you want from me, Dominic? Truly?"

He clenched his jaw again, much harder this time and then changed tactics suddenly, throwing me entirely off guard.

"Why do you let me f**k you the way I do?"

"Because it's what you need," I replied, confused as to why he was pursuing this line of questioning.

"And you only do it for me?"

"Not entirely, no."

A beat of silence. "You enjoy it as much as I do, regardless of how degrading it may be for you?"

"Maybe," I began, my fingers fiddling subconsciously with the hem of my nightgown, "I enjoy it because it's degrading for me."

"Why?" he pressed.

"You're not the only person in the world with dark needs, Mr. Serrano. You have a strange obsession to dominate, punish and control the women you f**k. You overpower and subjugate us because of whatever f****d up issues you have. But I'm okay with that because I need the aggressive, degrading s*x in order to satisfy my own twisted, depraved desires. If anything, I'm unable to enjoy s*x unless I'm mistreated to some degree. Does that make sense?"

He nodded. "The sadist and the masochist."

I searched his face for some sign of emotion, but his mask was still well in place. "I think you might have been correct in your assumptions. I do want an outlet for my… rage."

He wouldn't admit that he needed it. "Maybe you need something else too?"

His brow rises slowly, betraying his curiosity.

"I've noticed how excited you get when I test your patience. I think you like that, because it gives you a reason to lose yourself in your own madness, to let the demons you try to keep hidden come out to play."

My voice was low, barely higher than an intimate whisper. I spoke as if he were sitting mere inches away from me. "And it's addictive, isn't it? f*****g someone who not only recognises and appreciates your depravity, but encourages you to delve even deeper into that tempting abyss? You don't want me to know how much you need my eagerness, my enthusiasm, in order to really let yourself off the leash. You like seeing the bruises you leave on my skin just as much - if not more - as you enjoy hearing my moans while you f**k me."

His eyes flashed with that emotion again, and my own body caught heat, my senses overloading from his presence, his proximity. But there was another emotion there too, one that hadn't been there last time he f****d me. It unsettled me, and I paused for a second in an attempt to figure out what exactly it was.

"You understand."

"Of course I do, but… f**k, Dominic," I hesitated, shrugging in frustration. "We both know this is going to end in a complete f*****g disaster. How long until you get bored of me like you did with all the other women?"

"It is not the same."

"Oh, really?"

"Do you honestly think I would be bothered to chase after you if it were? I could literally walk into a room and have any woman I want," he snapped.

Leaning forward, I yelled, "So why the f**k don't you, then?"

"Because I want you, goddammit," he snapped. "Why else do you think I would come here like this? After I swore to leave you the f**k alone? You're always hovering in the back of my mind, haunting me. And even now, as I'm sitting here inhaling your bewitching scent, I want nothing more than to just…"

His fingers twitched on the armrests, as if it took everything in him not to pounce on me. And the part that sucked is that I wanted his touch more than I wanted my next breath.

His face hardened. And finally, he rose from the chair. Very, very slowly. As if he were holding onto the last remnants of his control by the skin of his teeth. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, as if he were waging some internal battle with himself.

But finally, he spread his hands at his sides and released a long breath. He blinked once, and all the emotions disappeared behind his unreadable mask.

"It's obvious we want each other. I have money, which I can pay you with for your services. Why not just list your terms so we can end this unnecessary, tedious process?"

Honestly, I did want something.

The only problem with our dynamic, though, is how easily things could spiral out of control. His need to control me would eventually outweigh his desire for my wayward indiscretions. Either he would break all the rules in his efforts to make me obedient, or he would break me.

I already knew from how I responded to him that ours was not a normal attraction. I thought about him too much and dreamt about him more than I would like. And if I was feeling this way now - considering how indifferent I was to everything that happened around me - how the f**k would I feel after another appointment with him?

"What do you propose?" I asked.

"I have an offer. An irresistible one."

"What, for a weekend this time?"

"No," he said, clasping his hands formally behind his back. "Should you agree to my terms, and I to yours, it would be my preference that we have a long-term arrangement."

I blinked in surprise, my heart pounding with both excitement and apprehension. "A long-term arrangement? Does this mean…"

"Our contract would extend to more than just a night or a weekend."

"And how long-"

He inhaled deeply, releasing slowly.

"Six months."