Surrender To Me

CORINA

I didn’t sleep the previous night. The longer I lay down in that luxurious bed with my head resting on that therapeutic pillow, the more I realized that if I was going to get out of this, I would have to use my head. I couldn’t sleep. I kept tossing and turning throughout the night. It was only in the late hours of the morning when the idea came to me. The gun. The teddy bear has a secret compartment where I put my gun. I used to put the teddy bear on my bed when I stayed in a more dangerous part of town, but now that I was staying in a safer place, I no longer needed it so I chucked the doll in the closet.

I planned to get the teddy bear and then use the gun when an opportunity arose. I didn’t think he would want to accompany me. That made me change my plans. I had to think on my feet. It wasn’t until we entered my apartment alone that I realized Dante wasn’t with his goons. It was now or never. Then he kissed me. That was a surprise, but it gave me time to get the gun out and point it at him, which is where we are now. With my gun against him, but no idea what to do next.

“Stand back.” I nudge the pistol into his stomach. He moves, but only slightly.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“You’re a ball of surprises, aren’t you?” His calm demeanor is unnerving. He doesn’t seem afraid of me or my weapon. He seems to view it as a game.

“I said stand back if you don’t want me to shoot you.” “What’s your plan if you do? Colin and Rob are downstairs. If they hear a gunshot, they’ll rush here and if they see me lying in a pool of blood, you’ll be lying in your pool next to me.”

He’s right. Even if I outrun them, his Mafia family would be after me. They would probably kill me or my mother. Think Corina, think. I could use the fire escape and go through there. And it’s not like I want to kill him, anyway. Just enough time to get away from him. “Let me go,” I say.

“You’re the one holding the gun.”

“I’m not your thief. I didn’t steal your money. I’m not working with Hugh or Saccone. Somebody is framing me.” “Nah. I’d say this situation begs to differ.”

“Please let me go.” The hand holding the gun trembles. Dante notices it. I grip the gun with both hands. But it’s too late. He’s already seen my weakness. I can see it in the way his lips twitch as if he’s trying not to smile. He takes a step forward.

“Do it then,” he says when the gun touches him, “Kill me.”

I can’t and we both know it. Maybe if I duck and run away while I still have something of an upper hand. Before I could do that though, in one swift move, he pulled the pistol out of my hands, grabbed my waist, turns me around until my back was against him and he was now the one holding the gun to my temple. In my other ear, he whispers, “Don’t you ever, ever threaten me with a weapon ever again. Do you understand?”

It’s tough to process what he’s saying through the fog of changing fortunes. Is he going to kill me? He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? I feel the gun move and swipe away a lock of my hair. “Do you understand?”

I barely nod.

“I need you to say it out loud.”

My throat feels parched. The “yes,” comes out as a whisper. That seems to satisfy him. He drops the gun and puts both his hands in front of me as he opens the chamber and takes out the three bullets inside. As he’s doing so, my pulse rate drops, and I notice things. He’s holding me so close inside this bear hug I can feel his hardened cock. He’s swaying us slightly so that if someone were to walk in, they would think we were a couple. What’s worse, my body’s positive response. I have to stop myself from leaning back against him as if I want to be in this position. To be his prisoner. As if the previous seconds mean nothing.

“I knew you were going to be difficult, but I didn’t expect you to threaten me with a weapon.” The way his breath blows against my ear causes another bout of tumultuous emotions inside me. “I should have seen it, though. You’re one fascinating fireball, Corina.”

Just as fast as he held me, he let go of me. The lack of support makes me stumble backward. His hand snakes out, and catches me before I crumble to the ground. He didn’t let me go as he dragged me out of the apartment and back into the car. We drive back to the penthouse and throughout the entire drive, I can feel his anger vibrating around him, making it difficult to breathe. His grip on my arm is just as strong, too. When we enter the apartment, he blasts past Vera, who looks aghast, and when we reach my room, he thrusts me inside and says, “I hope you think about what you did.”

“Are you going to imprison me here?”

He says nothing and closes the door. I hear the key turn and a moment later his footsteps recede. I rush to the door and sure enough, it’s locked. It won’t open. What’s he going to do next, I wonder? Kill me? Maybe I should have shot when I had the chance, but I’ve never used that gun. It was something I had for security. An intimidation tool. I’m not even sure if the gun works at all. But he knows guns. He’s probably used them thousands of times. And he probably knows what to do with disposing of a dead body as well. The thought sends a chill down my spine. It’s the state I’m in for the next few hours.

This time, being alone with my thoughts is more terrifying than last night. By the time it becomes dark, I’m ready to claw at the walls as the fear creeps in. I want to get out. Not just out of this room, but out of my head, where several scenarios play. Dante chopping me up to pieces alive and then killing me. Killing me and then chopping me up to pieces. I prefer the second option.

I hear footsteps outside from time to time. And each time the sound gets louder and closer, my heart thumps so loud I can’t hear my thoughts, only for the sound to carry on down the hall. When it’s fully nighttime outside, I hear two sets of footsteps along the hall. One louder than the other. When they stop at the door, I stand up from the bed and wait expectantly facing the door. Is this how I’m going to be led to my death? The door opens and filling the frame is Dante, still looking as pissed as before, and slightly hidden by him, Vera, who’s holding a covered silver tray. She brushes past him and walks over to the small table in the room.

“Supper,” he grumbles. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be having anything at all.”

Vera opens the tray and on it is a delicious-looking plate of fettuccine alfredo, another with a lamb chop and a glass of red wine. I haven’t eaten since morning and the thought of food never crossed my mind until now and my stomach rumbles as hunger makes its call. Is this my last meal? I stare back at him. Is he trying to poison me? To make the death easier? Vera smiles at me and I mutter a thank you as she leaves. Dante is still at the door, his arms crossed.

“Eat.”

“Why? Is it poisoned?”

He closes the door and stalks towards me. “One: If I wanted to kill you, the poison would not be my choice of weapon. It wouldn’t be satisfying. I would rather watch you bleed.” His words terrify me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing the impact they have on me. I steel myself and raise my chin. “Two,” he continues, stalking further until there’s little space between us, “That’s an insult to Vera whose concern you don’t deserve. If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be eating tonight. Or the next few days.”

Something tells me he isn’t lying. Maybe it’s the look of offense he has for me suggesting he would poison me. Begrudgingly, I take a seat and draw the tray towards me. Dante also plants himself into the other chair. “What are you doing?”

“Watching you eat.”

“Whatever for? Can’t I do that in privacy? I’m sure you have better things to do, like running a casino or a gang or whatever.”

He glares at me for a moment. I might have pushed a few buttons there at the gang reference. He seems to let it go and his gaze moves down to the steak knife on the tray. “After what you’ve pulled this morning, I don’t trust you with that.”

Damn. He’s right. The thought never crossed my mind. I’m too hungry to think, but now that he’s suggested it, I would steal the knife.

“Now eat.” He sits back and pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. As if this is the normal thing in the world right now. I try to ignore his imposing presence and take a bite of the lamb chop. Holy shit, it is fucking amazing. It’s so succulent and juicy I take another piece. I combine the third piece with the pasta and the wine. The combination is like fireworks in my mouth. The food is so delicious and in no time I’m done eating. Both plates are empty and so is the wine glass. He notices this and soon as I put the last drop of wine down my throat, he gets up.

“What are you going to do to me?” I say, “You didn’t kill me before and you don’t want to kill me now, according to you.”

“Who says I won’t do it, eventually?”

“I’d rather you get it over with. The suspense is killing me.”

“So you admit your crimes?”

“No. Because I have none.”

“You will admit it, eventually. I’m a patient man.”

“Is that why you’re keeping me alive? To see if I break?”