The Lover's Surrender
New York City
Stalking wasn’t Danny’s forte. He was used to his men doing this job for him, watching victims for endless hours, prepared to strike the moment those victims were vulnerable.
Cushioned in the fake perception of safety.
However, today’s victim was an exception. There was something special about the woman he was observing.
Her brown hair, long and curly, and her face, now tanned with freckles, reminded him too much of a girl he had once dated. Brooke Stewart was in every way the carbon copy of her elder sister Jenna, now dead.
Jenna had been a good prostitute, he remembered, the way she could take his whole cock in her mouth, and suck him to pleasure heaven. At least she admitted she was a whore, as all women were, and whores needed to be shown the way.
Defeated when they were taken.
Controlled when they were too wild.
Too bad he had turned her into a user, stealing his drugs when he was out of it. If she hadn’t been so stupid as to take what wasn’t hers, she might still be alive.
The first time Danny suspected Jenna had been stealing was when a bag of high-end drugs had gone missing from his place. The second time it happened, it was time to sell her, if only to make up for his lost revenue.
And sell her good he did.
First came his friends, and then he started to look for buyers. The money Jenna earned him was good, way better than what he made as a small-town drug dealer. Back then, in the beginning, she hadn’t even been aware of how easily he could spike her drink without her knowing, and then invite five to ten guys a night to have their way with her.
The bruises all over her body, he explained, were there because she was too thin. High on drugs, she didn’t even feel the pain. And what Jenna couldn’t remember never happened, and the fragments of memories she dreamed were just a figment of her imagination.
Danny smiled fondly.
It had been a win-win situation for the both of them, he remembered. In some way, she started his career as her pimp. However, the real turning point came when one of his richer clients wanted her. Not just for one hour or a night, but as a possession, as a slave that he could keep in a cage—to do with as he pleased.
Thirty thousand dollars had been the price he had offered Danny. It sounded like a good deal at first…until his client explained he wanted Jenna for a club he was a member of. Needless to say, Danny began to think of Jenna as a long-term investment. She could make him way more money as a prostitute, so he declined. Weeks passed. He had almost forgotten about the deal when a bigger offer came in.
One hundred thousand dollars.
It was so much money, Danny almost caved in on the spot, but he wasn’t ready to sell her just yet. He figured if someone was willing to pay such an exorbitant sum of money—more than three times the initial offer—he’d probably offer more. It was a good thing he had listened to his little birdie, because the next thing he knew he received an offer that changed his life:
One million dollars for his girl.
Plus a ten percent discount for whatever drugs they supplied to him. And the guarantee that he had protection from the police.
But the one condition?
Work for the secret organization called ETNAD, an extensive elite club run by high-ranked and rich individuals, and keep quiet about it. It was an offer too good to be passed on.
Oh, how good a businessman he was.
Oh, what a time it had been.
Another chuckle escaped his mouth, and he licked his lips.
It was the beginning of a symbiotic working relationship with the ETNAD club. They had made him rich beyond his wildest dreams, rewarding him for his consistency and loyalty. They had made him the owner of a nightclub and given him the kind of power he had always dreamed of.
Now, ten years later, he drove four expensive cars, owned four houses, and had his own men working for him. He made so much money that he could easily buy a small island, and someday he would…once it was time to retire.
He was no longer a cheap lowlife.
In all the years he had worked for ETNAD, with the exception of a few he could count on his hand, he hadn’t seen a single one of the girls he had provided again. He never asked what happened to them, and he didn’t want to know. His lifestyle was too grand, too exquisite to allow the kind of consequences that came with being inquisitive. After all, when he sold the girls, they became the buyer’s possession, their property.
But there were rumors and clues hard to miss. Eventually, he found out that the girls were raped, tortured, many of them killed for pleasure.
The shock lasted all of a second.
He had always guessed that with so much money involved, illegal events had to be at play; that the motivation behind ETNAD’s diligence was to keep the clandestine trade running smoothly.
Stalking wasn’t Danny’s forte. He was used to his men doing this job for him, watching victims for endless hours, prepared to strike the moment those victims were vulnerable.
Cushioned in the fake perception of safety.
However, today’s victim was an exception. There was something special about the woman he was observing.
Her brown hair, long and curly, and her face, now tanned with freckles, reminded him too much of a girl he had once dated. Brooke Stewart was in every way the carbon copy of her elder sister Jenna, now dead.
Jenna had been a good prostitute, he remembered, the way she could take his whole cock in her mouth, and suck him to pleasure heaven. At least she admitted she was a whore, as all women were, and whores needed to be shown the way.
Defeated when they were taken.
Controlled when they were too wild.
Too bad he had turned her into a user, stealing his drugs when he was out of it. If she hadn’t been so stupid as to take what wasn’t hers, she might still be alive.
The first time Danny suspected Jenna had been stealing was when a bag of high-end drugs had gone missing from his place. The second time it happened, it was time to sell her, if only to make up for his lost revenue.
And sell her good he did.
First came his friends, and then he started to look for buyers. The money Jenna earned him was good, way better than what he made as a small-town drug dealer. Back then, in the beginning, she hadn’t even been aware of how easily he could spike her drink without her knowing, and then invite five to ten guys a night to have their way with her.
The bruises all over her body, he explained, were there because she was too thin. High on drugs, she didn’t even feel the pain. And what Jenna couldn’t remember never happened, and the fragments of memories she dreamed were just a figment of her imagination.
Danny smiled fondly.
It had been a win-win situation for the both of them, he remembered. In some way, she started his career as her pimp. However, the real turning point came when one of his richer clients wanted her. Not just for one hour or a night, but as a possession, as a slave that he could keep in a cage—to do with as he pleased.
Thirty thousand dollars had been the price he had offered Danny. It sounded like a good deal at first…until his client explained he wanted Jenna for a club he was a member of. Needless to say, Danny began to think of Jenna as a long-term investment. She could make him way more money as a prostitute, so he declined. Weeks passed. He had almost forgotten about the deal when a bigger offer came in.
One hundred thousand dollars.
It was so much money, Danny almost caved in on the spot, but he wasn’t ready to sell her just yet. He figured if someone was willing to pay such an exorbitant sum of money—more than three times the initial offer—he’d probably offer more. It was a good thing he had listened to his little birdie, because the next thing he knew he received an offer that changed his life:
One million dollars for his girl.
Plus a ten percent discount for whatever drugs they supplied to him. And the guarantee that he had protection from the police.
But the one condition?
Work for the secret organization called ETNAD, an extensive elite club run by high-ranked and rich individuals, and keep quiet about it. It was an offer too good to be passed on.
Oh, how good a businessman he was.
Oh, what a time it had been.
Another chuckle escaped his mouth, and he licked his lips.
It was the beginning of a symbiotic working relationship with the ETNAD club. They had made him rich beyond his wildest dreams, rewarding him for his consistency and loyalty. They had made him the owner of a nightclub and given him the kind of power he had always dreamed of.
Now, ten years later, he drove four expensive cars, owned four houses, and had his own men working for him. He made so much money that he could easily buy a small island, and someday he would…once it was time to retire.
He was no longer a cheap lowlife.
In all the years he had worked for ETNAD, with the exception of a few he could count on his hand, he hadn’t seen a single one of the girls he had provided again. He never asked what happened to them, and he didn’t want to know. His lifestyle was too grand, too exquisite to allow the kind of consequences that came with being inquisitive. After all, when he sold the girls, they became the buyer’s possession, their property.
But there were rumors and clues hard to miss. Eventually, he found out that the girls were raped, tortured, many of them killed for pleasure.
The shock lasted all of a second.
He had always guessed that with so much money involved, illegal events had to be at play; that the motivation behind ETNAD’s diligence was to keep the clandestine trade running smoothly.