Surrender To Me

Author’s Note: Hey readers, well well well, I appreciate y’all firstly for stopping by to read this compilation of age gap romance, erotica, billionaire, and many others.

Tightened up and enjoy every bit of the ride.

Title: The Mafias Prisoner

Corina

The five people sitting at this table have a combined net worth larger than that of a small country, but the only person making me nervous is the man sitting opposite me. Dante Morelli. My boss. Or rather, my boss’s, boss. I want to impress him. Make him see I am a valuable part of his business. And so far, I am fucking up royally.

Round one begins with me spilling a drink as I deal with the cards. My hand knocks the glass, and it rolls down the table as the brown liquid spreads all over the black marble. Luckily, Dante’s deft hand grabs the glass before it crashes to the floor and Jesse, my only friend in this room, comes just in time with a napkin to wipe the mess. I stole a glance at Dante and it was difficult to tell if he was angry or even bothered. His face is nothing but a blank slate and when I mumble a sorry, he only grunts in response. Thankfully, the other players laugh. They seem to think it’s funny and aren’t bothered by the accident.

But that’s not all. The second time I attempt to deal the cards, I hear the player to my left say, “Four cards,” he raises the cards, “And a bad hand at that.”

“I’m so sorry,” I reply, taking the cards as fast as I can. I’m so mortified I want to rush out of this room and never show myself again. How can I make such a rookie mistake? With this level of incompetence, he will ask Jesse to take my place and kick me out, I’m sure. But he says nothing. The guy on my right leans in and whispers, “First time playing with the big boys?”

I nod, afraid to say anything as I shuffle the cards.

“It happens to the best of us. Try imagining us naked.”

It’s at that moment I glance at Dante. His blazing gaze is on me. The mask he had is gone and, in its place, pure anger. Fuck. I’ve fucked it up. I’m so sure he’s going to kick me out, but he says nothing, and the game continues.

The second and third rounds go on uneventfully. I’m getting comfortable now and my initial fear has dissipated to where I can listen to the conversation going around the table. Two tech bros came together, an NFL player and the guy on my left, who is some sort of financier who works on Wall Street. From the way he speaks, he seems closer to Dante than anyone on the table and is bankrolling the NFL player. The footballer is the first to be eliminated.

“You went all in too soon!” Wall Street guy says to him, “Dante’s going to drain us tonight.”

Dante casually collects the chips and says nothing.

“I warned you, Hunter,” the football player says, “I’m shit at poker.” He stands up and throws a chip at me. I catch the tip and thank him as he makes his way to the bar. It’s a five-hundred-dollar chip. Jesse winks at me as she brings in another round of drinks. Not bad for a first night, and there were probably more tips to come.

The geeky tech bro is the second to go. He too loses to Dante, leaving him, the other tech bro, and Hunter. As they play, I learn that the other tech bro, the one left at the table, is called Nate, the other is Justin and the NFL player is Connor. His name does not ring a bell, but then again, I don’t watch sports of any kind.

“Dante is killing us, Nate,” Hunter said.

“Not at all,” Dante mumbles, “you’re still at the table.”

“Yeah, but you have a pile bigger than all of us. We’ve gotta even the game a little. Give us a handicap.”

Dante chuckles.

“What do you think?” For a moment I ignore Hunter thinking he’s speaking to Nate, but when I notice that all eyes on the table are on me, I scramble for an answer.

“I don’t think I have a say in the matter.” “Sure you do. A dealer is part of the game.”

Why does it feel like there’s more to what he’s saying than what’s obvious? I can’t pinpoint what it is, but if I answer incorrectly, I might have my ass thrown out. From what I hear, Dante is unforgiving and takes kindly to employees who overstep their bounds. According to Jesse, he once fired a girl after slipping a note to one of his friends. I glance at Dante for a cue. That blank mask is on again and I feel like they have thrown me into the deep end without a life jacket. I try to think of something that will put the topic away from me.

“That’s for the host to decide.”

Hunter smiles, “Smart.” His eyes are still on me when he says, “She doesn’t want to jeopardize her job. I get it.”

I shrug slightly, so slightly that I think no one will notice, but Hunter does, and he breaks into laughter. The game resumes once more and this round, Hunter takes Nate out. Leaving Hunter and Dante. Hunter’s stack is half Dante’s. The other three are casually watching the game while nursing their drinks.

After I deal the hand, Hunter says to Dante, “Playing with money is boring, don’t you think?” He spoke as if it was monopoly money and not millions of real dollars. “Do have anything in mind.” Hunter’s gaze goes to me. There’s a glint in his eye when he says, “How about raising the stakes a little?”

Dante took a sip of his drink and dropped the glass down slowly. “No.”

“Come on. It will be more fun than playing with chips.”

“Leave my employees out of it.”

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