“You wrecked my new car!” the big man threatens, his gaze throwing dark sparks.
“Just dented it a bit. I’ll pay for the repairs. How much?”
“Seems I need money, don’t I?” I look him over as he keeps undressing me with his eyes.
“No, sweetheart. Money can’t fix moral damage,” he says.
I was still hoping to negotiate for a delay, but he delivers: “Full submission.”
“Excuse me?” I step back, frightened.
“I think you didn’t hear me right.”
“Full submission for a month, and then we’re even…”