BOUND BY LOVE AND BLACKMAIL

Juanita's POV:

"I got it, I got it, I got it!"

My screams of joy echoed rapidly within the cyber cafe, but the looks of disgust that were instantly directed at me from other customers prompted me to seal my lips and conceal my excitement and celebratory noises.

I had just gotten an appointment letter, via mail, from Danvers Tech, the biggest tech manufacturer in the country, to resume work the next day as the Personal Assistant to the CEO. Words could not describe how elated I felt, not just because I had gotten the job, but because it had come at a time when I desperately needed it.

I was barely scraping by; the electricity at my apartment had been cut off and all my gadgets seemed to have connived to develop faults at the same time, which was why I couldn't check my mail from my phone or home PC. Just today, I'd been fired from my babysitting job because the 4 year old I was caring for had begun to have scary nightmares of me. Incredulous. I'd come in here, hopeful, knowing that if the mail didn't bear the message I was expecting to see, I'd surely break down.

Using a computer here cost me a small portion of my overall savings, but for the news that I'd gotten a job which came with a company apartment and a monthly salary of $27,000, it was well worth it. My first instinct was then to break this news to Robin, my boyfriend, who'd been a lot of help to me during my distressing time. Getting out of the cyber cafe, I immediately hailed a cab.

"Where to, miss?" The driver asked.

"33rd Street. Drop me off just before the intersection," was my reply.

And so we began to move.

But, upon arrival at Robin's apartment, something felt immensely off: the lights were on and the door was unlocked; it wasn't untypical of Robin to be home by 12pm, seeing as he was a bus driver who alternated between shifts, but he never left his door unlocked.

Something wasn't right, and as soon as I stepped into the apartment, I discovered - to my dismay - what was going on: Robin was cheating on me; having sex with another woman. But not just any woman, though..My best friend, Xana.

Robin's apartment was structured such that if one came in through the front door, you would have to walk through a dark, short passage - which had no provision or outlet for a lightbulb - to get to the living room area, and when the living room lights were switched on, it was difficult for someone in the living room to see who was in the passage until they came through. So it was in this passage area that I stood, hidden by the shadows and stunned to my bones, as I watched Robin, the man I loved with every fiber of my being and who I knew I would do anything for, plow through the woman who I had called my best friend for the past 7 years.

I stood, transfixed, watching them and feeling invisible, as though I had meant nothing to both of them. And the hurtful part was that they were enjoying it.

"Robin, Robin, Robin!!" Xana, a slender blonde, screamed with pleasure.

"You asked for it, Xana, you asked for it.. All the times you'd been coming over on the pretext of wanting to say 'hello', dressed in skimpy clothing, enough to keep you clothed, but allowing me to see your tits.. You asked for it.. You.. Urrghhh, fuck!"

All the dirty talk had been going on as Robin had her pinned to his couch, the same one he usually pinned me against, and drove into her from behind. I could hear the clap clap sound of skin slapping hard against skin and from what I could see, they were both about to come.

Watching Robin vibrate like an epileptic patient as he shamelessly spilled into Xana, and seeing the disgusting look of satisfaction on his face afterwards, felt like watching a horror movie alone in a cinema, while being strapped to a seat in the front row. Up until this point, they didn't know they were being watched, so I decided to announce my presence.

"Hey, Robin, hey Xana," I said calmly, despite the tumultuous thoughts that were running wild in my head.

He spun around, alarmed, recognizing my voice and put his hands over his mouth.

"Oh, shit, honey this is not what you.."

I raised my left hand, as a gesture of "Don't", and the first tear escaped from my right eye.

"Robin.. why?" This was all I could say.

I looked at him, speechless and flustered, with his dick - which dangled in front of him - now going limp and his bare body, which had once fascinated me, now disgusting me.

"And, you.." I said, turning to Xana, but she didn't even care that I was hurt or that I was even there. She was gently putting on her clothes, unconcerned with the relationship she'd just ruined by spreading her legs. All the years of friendship, thrown down the drain. She knew how much I loved Robin, how much I'd loved her, and yet she'd done this, and had the gall to be so unapologetic about it.

Then I looked back to Robin, and he was still speechless. His silence had told me all I needed to know.

"And to think that I was going to come and celebrate my new job with you," I said, shaking my head, "I guess.. I guess that's a phase of my life you're not supposed to be a part of."

And with that, I turned around and walked out of the apartment.

I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do there, but I just began to move, walking briskly, spurred on by my broken heart, and running away from the ones who had inflicted this damage on me. Would I heal? I could not tell, but I knew, for sure, that I had to get away and go somewhere.. Anywhere.

****

Joachim's POV:

Naked girls, champagne and loud music; my Achilles Heel.

Arriving at the nightclub area of Luxuria Hotel, where I was lodged - not because I didn't have a house but because I was trying to escape family drama and because the wild nightlife intrigued me more - I subconsciously began to smile because I was seeing the things which made me happy: naked women's asses and titties. Lots of it.

I stood at the entrance, taking it all in, and I was about to do my usual routine of finding a table and buying drinks for as many women as I could find when my eye caught something. Or, rather, someone: a young, thick woman, 26 at most, sitting at the counter with her back to the dancefloor and drinking shot after shot of Tequila. What caught my eye was not her curves but rather, it was the fact that she had clothes on. And I wanted to take them off...

Instantly, I moved towards her.

"Someone looks upset," I said as soon as I was within earshot, and then I waited for her reaction.

I was expecting something like 'go away' or 'I'm with someone' but instead, she looked at me, raising her head slowly, and I was taken aback to see that, although she looked drunk as hell, she was shedding tears.

"M-m-miss, are you okay?" I asked.

She shook her head vehemently, clearly not herself, and cried even more.

Continuing based on pure instinct, I asked:

"W-would you like me to take you home?"

And she nodded assuredly.

"Do you speak English?" I asked. She nodded again.

"So.. I'll take you home but I need to know, what's your name?"

After stuttering and muttering a few incomprehensible words, she finally said:

"Juanita."

Although it wasn't in my nature to be "Mr Nice Guy", this woman felt different from all the others who I'd encountered, so I was determined to take her home. But when I held her hand and led her outside, with her wobbly legs, she was too incoherent to state where she lived, her answer to 'What's your address' being:

"On the other side of the shore.. Through the valley of the shadow of.. Of the shadow of.. Tears," she said between hiccups.

This was a waste of time, and it was late, so I decided to take her to my hotel room. She'd pass the night there and tomorrow, she should be stable enough to go home. Sweeping her off her feet, I took her to my room. On the way, the hotel security saw me and although it was weird to them - me carrying a stoned lady to my room - they let it slide because, after all, I was Joachim Danvers.

We arrived at my hotel room and immediately I laid her on the bed. My natural, predatory instincts were to take her right there, peel her top off her and suck on her tits before relieving her of her leggings and driving my cock deep into her. She was knocked out so she wouldn't even know it, but there was something about her that was preventing me from implementing the thoughts I was having in my head. Something innocent and pure.. Try as I might, I couldn't get hard.

So I decided to do.. something else. Something which would serve as proper entertainment to me, later on.

Juanita's POV:

Where was I? What was I doing here? How had I gotten here? This was a king-sized bed, not mine, so who'd put me in it? Had I been kidnapped? Was it Robin who had me? What on earth was going on?

These and a million more were the questions I had on my mind as I woke up, in an exquisite room, with a start. It was day and the sun was already out; though I didn't have a watch, I knew it would be, at least, 9am. Raising my head and body with such force, my first instinct was to dash out of whoever's bed this was and call for help, but then the hangover headache that hit me caused me to lay on my back and place both palms on my face, bringing back all the memories:

I remembered seeing Robin fucking another woman, and I remembered that it had taken a massive toll on me. I remember that I'd been so broken after leaving his house that I cried for hours. I also remembered taking the decision to go find a spot and have a few drinks to numb the pain I was feeling. I remembered drowning myself in shot after shot of Tequila until I saw a stranger speaking to me.. After this, I couldn't remember anymore. Was it him who had put me here?

"Good morning, Juanita," a voice said, startling me out of my thoughts.

I sat up, slowly this time, and took a good look at the speaker. He was tall, with a head that was cleanly skinned, complemented by a full beard and a neck tattoo. Seeing him dressed in a plain, white shirt and corporate trousers with brogues, I could tell that he was a man with a few digits in the bank.

"I hope you had a good night's sleep," he said, smiling calmly at me. Something about him felt... Maniacal. To worsen matters, he'd called me by my name, so that was even creepier.

"How do you know my name? Have I been kidnapped?" I asked, not willing to beat about the bush. I wanted to know, directly, if this was a 'good morning: from a Good Samaritan who'd helped a drunk girl or if this was a 'good morning' from a captor who was about to state the terms of release to a hostage. "Because if I have been kidnapped, I'm afraid you'll just have to kill, sell or release me, because neither me nor anyone I know is in any position to pay a ransom."

He chuckled softly before replying, "Relax.. My name is Joachim and I can assure you that you've not been kidnapped. Judging by the state I saw you in, last night, you probably have nothing of value, anyway."

That remark stung me like a billion bees. Who was this guy, and why was he being so mean? Also, what "state" was I in last night?

"I know your name because you told it to me last night, and I like to think that if I were to kidnap someone, for any reason, I wouldn't put them in a king-sized bed or let them wake up in Gucci pajamas.."

As he mentioned this, I finally took a look at myself and realized that I was indeed in Gucci pajamas. But I didn't own a pair of these and I wasn't even wearing them last night. "How did I...?

"Yes, I put them on you. Your own clothes are in the bag beside you. You were reeking of so much alcohol and I couldn't help but feel the need to do something about it," he said, answering the question I hadn't even finished asking.

"Well, thanks, I guess," I said, still unsure how to feel. "Did you..?"

Again, he cut me off: "Did I see your naked body? Yes, I did. Did I touch you? Only in the necessary places to take off your clothes. Did I sleep with you? No."

He said these words nonchalantly, so nonchalantly as though I was supposed to just feel consoled that he didn't sleep with me, even though he saw me.. All of me. I could see the glint in his eyes, that predatory look, and I knew that although he hadn't taken me, last night, it was well within his capabilities.

"That doesn't make me feel better, you know," I pointed out, ashamed.

"I know but, quite frankly, I do not care. Would you have preferred me to leave you, drunken as you were, in that club for some actual rapists to find you and have a field day with you?"

As he asked this question, he looked me in the eyes. My silence and the rebuked look on my face gave him his answer, and he continued triumphantly, with his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought. But I would like to know.. Why were you drinking so much, anyway?" He asked me with a look of sheer curiosity, not concern, on his face and I could tell that, although this man had helped me, he wasn't a really good man.

This question brought back the visual pictures, memories and pain of Robin's and Xana's betrayal, all at once, and I but my under lip, feeling the stabbing hurt all over again. This was personal information but, then again, this fellow had helped me out last night so he deserved a little bit of closure. Plus, he'd seen everything there was to see about my body so I literally had nothing left to hide. So I bared it all to him.

"My boyfriend.. He.. he cheated on me.."

"Ohh.. That's.. sad," Joachim said, "with a best friend of yours? Your sister, perhaps? Like in those Filipino series?"

I shook my head and sniffled; the tears were coming back. "Best friend. Well, ex best friend, now. He'd mentioned that she casually came over one time, and I had actually walked in on them before, but they hadn't been having sex, then, they were simply playing video games together. I remember feeling odd about it but I didn't want to seem possessive or jealous so I let it slide. Now, look at me.."

Joachim stood, hands in his pockets, listening as I spoke, and to my greatest surprise, he burst into laughter.

"What? What's funny about anything that I just said? Stop laughing!" I demanded.

But he didn't. My protests only made him laugh harder, so I waited for him to compose himself and tell me what his otherworldly reason could be.

"I'm sorry," he said after about a minute, still stifling laughter, "but it's just funny to me that there are still people in this world who believe, and allow themselves to fall, in love. Love is pain, love is vulnerability, love is weakness. When are you guys going to learn that?"

I opened my mouth to defend love, but I remembered that Robin - who I'd loved - had just shattered my heart so I was in no position to speak about the wonders of love, before Joachim would laugh at me, again.

"Listen, Juanita, do yourself a favor. Forget that man; forget every man. Focus only on yourself and direct your energies into things that make you stronger and better. This mentality of mine has made me the black sheep of my family because everyone thinks I'm a dark, sick soul, but every time I get proven right: love is death. Take my advice.. Never fully commit to anybody, anymore. If you need good dick, then you get it but never start loving the man. Go to him for his dick and nothing else."

"You're a sick man, Joachim," I said, flabbergasted at his reasoning.

"Nope, I am a smart man who has no time for emotional attachment. Do yourself a favor, get up and get in the shower, then go find a job or something to keep you busy.."

"Well, I guess you're.."

I was about to say 'I guess you're right' when I remembered:

THE JOB!!! I WAS SUPPOSED TO RESUME TODAY!!!

Jefferson's POV:

"I just don't understand why this is a heavy requirement.. I mean, I graduated with a first class in Business Administration and I've been studying the family business since I was 14. I know everything there is to know about the company and how to run it.. So why, after gaining all these things, would I then be hindered by a flimsy reason as being single?"

"There's a simple answer to your question, Jefferson.. It is your father's decision.."

"Why would he even make that decision? It makes no sense!"

Seated in the old study of the Danvers Mansion, I was dressed in a three piece suit and Uncle Ben, to whom I was speaking, was in his white robe, which he always wore in the mornings. Though this was the "old study", it had much more sophistication than many modern libraries around the world. Yeah, that was how rich we were. It was morning and I had to be in the office at this time, because I had a new Personal Assistant to brief, but I needed to do all I could to press Uncle Ben.

I was, as I always did, trying to convince him to waive the requirement of marriage and go right to handing me the company. The Danvers family had a rule which stated that, for one to be the CEO of the empire, one had to be married. I'd never understood it, but it was a requirement that simply had to be fulfilled.

Uncle Ben was my late father's uncle, and the family custodian. His signature was the final day on everything, and although he basically controlled the $60bn fortune, as there was no official heir as yet, he lived a simple life and had never made a move to assume power. He'd earned everybody's respect.

I was persistent, because I knew that my luck with women had been very poor; I'd only dated twice in all my 29 years, and even then, I had been played because the two women had only wanted me for my money and they'd been cheating behind my back. So I was skeptical about getting into another relationship, talk more marriage, but the way it looked, I would have no choice because if I over hesitated, Joachim - that reckless organism who had never even studied or been interested in business all his life - could randomly bring home a woman, one day, and I'd lose the chance to lead the company. I couldn't afford that.

"You do know that, by making this requirement a hurdle for me, you're basically handing the company reins to Joachim, right?" I asked him.

"Jefferson.. Nobody's handing anything to Joachim, the requirement is up in the air like a briefcase. Whoever gets married first, to show responsibility and accountability, would snatch the briefcase.. It's equal opportunity for both of you."

"Uncle Ben you know, more than anybody, that it's not equal. I mean, Joachim is a natural with women.. I'm not. I've had two relationships that crashed, not because I treated the women wrongly, but because I'm simply not lucky with women."

"That, Jefferson, is not true," Uncle Ben replied, "it's not about being natural or unnatural.. I met those women, one on one, and I could tell that they cared for you, but we both know why you lost them. Your ego is bigger than your entire body, Jefferson, you don't have the capacity to apologize, admit wrong or let things go. You put on an air of machismo and bravado everytime, when you don't need to, and this repels women more than anything because they need their men to be humble enough to know when to say things like 'I'm sorry'. You wouldn't be having this problem of needing a wife, now, but here we are. All because of you.."

"B-but does that explain why they cheated on me?" I asked, grasping at straws, now.

"Yes, it does, Jefferson," Uncle Ben replied, "When you don't make your woman feel how she wants to feel, the guy out there who makes her feel that way would be able to have his way with her, literally.. You need to mellow and admit it, Jeff. You weren't cheated on.. You were replaced by your betters."

That last line hit me like a boulder. Replaced by my betters.

Uncle Ben was right, I was probably the most egoistic man in the whole of Detroit, but I had always excused it as the attributes of a leader, and it had always worked well for my conscience, even when everyone was telling me otherwise. But listening to Uncle Ben, now, I was beginning to doubt it.

0

"So, Jefferson," he said after letting me chew on his words for a bit, "Do yourself a favor.. If you want the company so badly, find a woman, fast as you can, and get married to her. Let's hope you can keep her this time."

Humbled, I walked out of the study. I walked past the dining table where my breakfast had already been served, but I was late.. I couldn't afford to eat it. So I walked right on, knowing in the back of my head that one of the maids, the one who was lucky to find my plates first, would enjoy a five course meal courtesy of me, and headed straight for my car, a Shelby GT 500 which was built for speed.

As I drove to work, thousands of thoughts ran through my head but the most prevalent one was how I would find a woman and get married to her before Joachim would beat me to it. Navigating into the garage at the Danvers Tech building, I cursed the requirement once again before focusing on the day's tasks, number one of which was welcoming and briefing my new Personal Assistant.

However, to my greatest surprise, although I had come 30 minutes late, this Assistant was nowhere to be found.

"What do you mean she's not here, yet?" I asked my secretary incredulously. I was standing in the hallway that led to my office, which was filled with staff who were supposed to be in their offices but had come out to 'welcome the boss', in the hope that their eye service would be rewarded with fat bonuses at the end of the year. A bunch of hypocritical fellows.

"I-I mean she's not here, yet, sir. I have no idea why, but she's not. She replied to the mail yesterday morning, and promised to be here one hour ago. I'm surprised that she's nowhere in sight, at this time."

The last PA was fired for insolence, and it was looking as though I may have to fire this one for it as well, despite never having seen her. Why was my luck with women so bad?

"Call off the app.." I was about to complete the statement with the word "appointment" when a unique, feminine voice echoed down the hall, and everyone - me included - turned.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" The woman said, before unashamedly shoving her way through the crowd of staff and coming towards my secretary. I stood, silent, watching her. Though her clothes looked like they'd been selected in a hurry; a black blazer with a yellow skirt and blue pair of shoes, not to mention the red handbag; she was very pretty and she seemed interesting: I liked interesting people.

"Hi.. I'm Juanita, the lady who was supposed to resume work as the CEO's Personal Assistant. I'm so sorry I'm late, but it was unavoidable," she explained with confidence, oblivious of my presence. Perhaps she didn't expect the CEO to be standing and chatting with the secretary during what was usually working hours.

"Well, hello, miss Juanita, I am afraid to inform you that the appointment has been.." the secretary was about to carry out my order and cancel the appointment. Although it was the professional thing to do, I had other plans.

"No," I said firmly to her while raising a hand in her direction, "the appointment stands." Then I turned to the rainbow dressed woman. "You are Juanita Reyes?"

"Yes, yes I am," she replied, slightly breathless. She'd most likely been running.

"Good. Come with me. You're hired."

As she followed me into my office, she chattered away like a child who'd just returned from a long awaited trip to Disneyland:

"Oh my God, thank you so much, sir, I promise I'm not a habitual latecomer; I'm a hard worker but there were circumstances beyond my control. This was just a one-off which will never repeat.."

She was talking a lot but I wasn't interested in her words. My interest was in the fact that I needed a woman, and there was one before me right now who seemed in need of my help - financial help - and who would, therefore, be easier to convince to help me on my mission. So, as soon as we entered my office, I did something which was purely instinctive:

"You have the job, quite alright. But I want something more from you, Juanita.."

"W-what is it, sir?" She asked with a look of uncertainty on her face.

"Marry me," came my reply. I watched on as her expression changed from surprise to the upper echelons of shock, and her lips prepared an instinctive reply:

"Excuse me?"