“Why do you always seem so controlling? You’re always on the offensive!” I blurt out, my frustration bubbling over as I pivot in the kitchen.
His smile makes me take a step back.
“Hazel, you see me as controlling because that’s who I am. I won’t deny it, and you shouldn’t expect me to be anything else.”
Well, that wasn’t the answer I was expecting.
“Your life is dangerous?”
“Every part of my life is dangerous, babe. My home, my private house fifteen minutes away, my job. It’s all a physical and emotional minefield.”
Dante shrugs, but I’m not paying attention to that. I’m stuck on him calling me babe.
“So, you’re saying I should steer clear of you?” I can feel my cheeks heating up, and Dante just stares at me. How does he always manage to keep such a poker face?
“That’s up to you. But if you decide to get closer, I won’t lie—it’ll be tough.
“It’s not about me being a victim of childhood abuse, like many dominants in the local clubs, or about being in a coma. It’s about power dynamics and the challenges I face at work.”
“What do you do for a living?” I ask, surprised at the turn our conversation has taken. We usually just bicker.
“That’s confidential, Hazel. I’m trusting you with this. If it gets out, you’re in trouble. Are you sure you want to know?”
He straightens his suit jacket, pointing a finger at me.
“Yes. I’m sure.” I give him a reassuring smile, and he nods.
“I work with Kenzo. I’m his right-hand man in his family’s cartel. You could say I’m involved in some shady business.”
Dante opens the fridge and grabs a fitness drink. He pops the cap and downs half the bottle in one gulp.
“Oh.” How did we end up here? I pour hot water into my cup.
“Keep it to yourself and we’ll be fine. Now, if we’re done, I need to get to work.” Dante finishes his drink while we stand in silence. I rack my brain for another question.
“What do you mean by being controlling?” I keep my back to him as I wait for his answer. I can’t bear to look at him while he explains. I have a feeling I know where this is going.
“I’m the kind of man who takes better care of a woman than anyone in a regular relationship would. I ensure she’s healthy, comfortable, safe, and emotionally stable.
“The dynamic comes into play during sex, where I provide experiences like no other, pushing boundaries while making the woman feel cherished and respected.”
I sneak a peek over my shoulder. He looks smug until I ask my next question.
“Like Rebecca and Kenzo?” His face hardens, and I wish I could just vanish.
“No! Absolutely not, Hazel. Their relationship was built on lies, trust issues, and crossing lines that a dominant like me would never even consider.”
A low growl escapes his throat. He didn’t appreciate the comparison to Kenzo. I can’t blame him. Rebecca went through hell with that man, and in a small town like Arlington, news travels fast.
“So, could I be that woman?” I shrug, and he gives me a scrutinizing look. A wicked smirk flashes across his face.
“Why would you want to be that woman?” He tilts his head, and I lean against the kitchen counter. I guess I have to face him now, right?
“I want to be loved.” I think about my life. I need someone to care for me, to be there when I need them. I need a friend, a shoulder to cry on, and I don’t know why I’m asking him.
Why did I ask him that? I’ve dug my own grave, now I guess I have to lie in it.
“I wouldn’t start a relationship with you just because you want to be loved. It would be too complicated for you. My advice? Find a nice guy who doesn’t have a job like mine.
“You need someone who doesn’t expect more than what a normal relationship entails.”
Why does his rejection sting so much? Is this how he felt when I pushed him away last night?
“I’m sorry about last night,” I tell him, and he smirks at me.
“I’m still not interested. You need a regular relationship, Hazel.” He crosses his arms, and I mirror him.
“I don’t want a regular relationship, Dante.”
“Yes, and you have expectations from books that are far from my reality.” Dante glances at his watch before tossing his empty bottle into the recycling bag.
“How do you know I read books?” I play dumb, but Dante isn’t fooled.
“You were reading across from me earlier today. You must remember what you did this morning.
“I’ve seen you on the couch reading more than once, and they’re always books about dominants and submissives. Which brings me to this—why are you asking me what a dominant is when you already know?”
“I wanted to confirm if you were one, and now I know you are. I’ve always wanted to be a submissive, can I be yours?” I bat my eyelashes at him.
Where did this sudden confidence come from? Am I still drunk? No, I’m not, but it feels like it came out of nowhere.
“No. Not that it’s a normal question to ask. You’re not ready, Hazel.” He looks exasperated.
“Why not?” I cross my arms, and he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.
“Hazel, it’s not just about being able to handle the responsibility. It’s not about stepping into a red room and pushing your boundaries. It’s about trust and taking care of yourself.
“It’s not about me spending all my time telling you not to do something, and then you going ahead and doing it anyway. Do you have any idea what kind of punishment you’d be in for because you went off without my permission last night?”
Dante lets out a sigh, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. He’s about to talk about punishments, and my heart is pounding!
“No.”
“Exactly! I’m not okay with the idea of punishing you because you don’t understand what it means to be in a relationship with me. If I told you to go jump in a mud puddle, I’d expect you to do it without a second thought.
“If you didn’t, I’d want to know why. If you couldn’t give me a good reason for not following the rules, we’d be back at the punishment wall.
“If I tried to hug you and you pushed me away, I’d need to know why. I’d want to know why you fell asleep when I told you to kneel by the door.
“If you didn’t finish your dinner and didn’t tell me you hate onions, you’d be breaking my number one rule—honesty—and our relationship would be over.
“Could you handle not being able to pick out your own clothes, even your underwear, Hazel? What about having a set bedtime, daily routines, work assignments, losing your freedom?
“Following every single command, and doing so promptly, while living under the same roof as me twenty-four seven? What do you think about that?
“What if your baths were prepared for you, and I decided to join you in the shower? Would you be okay with always holding my hand in public, never being able to leave the house without my permission?
“Or being told to turn off the TV because I don’t want it on while you’re watching a movie you like? That’s just a small part of it.
“Many experienced subs have left because they couldn’t handle it, so what makes you think you’re the right fit, huh?”
“Um, that’s a lot of choices taken away.” I furrow my brows, and my lips press into a thin line.
“Exactly, Hazel, because there aren’t any. Your body, your mind, your emotions—they’d all belong to me.
“Everything that you are would be my responsibility, and as scary as that is for any sub, they never get hurt when they’re with me.
“Only a true submissive could handle a lifestyle as strict as mine, and I hate to break it to you, Hazel, but I don’t think that’s you.
“You’re always arguing back, throwing a fit when you don’t get your way, lying about your situation, acting recklessly, and demanding to be heard.
“I’m not a trainer, and you couldn’t handle this lifestyle even if I tried to train you.”
“When did I lie?” I cross my arms over my chest, and Dante grins.
“Who dropped you off this morning? A friend. You lying bitch. One of my guys dropped you off. He works at my club.”
“You lie too.” I take a sip of my drink, setting it back down on the table. His jaw tightens, his body language screams authority, but he doesn’t move.
“Yes, because with my job, I could get everyone I care about killed. There’s a big difference between keeping a secret and lying about being okay when you’re not.”
“That’s still not a good enough answer.” Dante lights up a cigarette, and I grab a chocolate bar from the cookie jar.
“Hoping to get on my good side to become my submissive will never happen. You’ve just proved my point. Good day, Hazel.” He turns to leave, and I can’t help but get sassy.
I hate how he treats me. Why does he have to be such a jerk?
“Why are you such an ass? Fine, I’ll go find a better dominant than you could ever be.”
He stops dead in his tracks and whips around to face me. Anger flashes across his face, his body is rigid, and I can’t help but smile. I’ve hit a nerve.
“Go ahead. Do some research first, though, or you might end up dead.”
“Ugh. I hate you!” I turn to pick up my drink, trying to ignore him, but it’s impossible when I can feel his presence behind me. It’s hard to explain how he affects me, how he gets under my skin.
“I dare you to go find yourself a dominant. Make sure to tell him what you just told me. I guarantee you’ll regret it the second you see his reaction, babe.
“Good luck. I hope your search pays off.”
He slams the door behind him, and I spin around, leaning back against the couch, irritated. Why does he have to be such a dick?
