Love between Players

Leticia wanted to cry in embarrassment. She drank her third shot of vodka, screaming into her pillow after each one.

"Can I use the restroom?" The painful memory came flooding back.

"Excuse me?" Justin had said with so much disgust that it made her want to cry. Riley, on the other hand, burst into an unladylike laughter, while their father simply scoffed as though she was utterly useless.

The memory pained her deeply, especially the part where Justin grabbed his briefcase and left her abandoned in the conference hall, forcing her to figure out her own way.

She had indeed used the restroom, receiving unexpected assistance from Riley, who later dropped her off at the company. During the ride, Leticia avoided speaking, keeping all her words as monologues.

But Justin had not returned to the company. He had seemingly vanished into thin air.

"I think I've been fired," Leticia murmured aloud, craving someone to confide in about her terrible day. Normally, it would have been Riley, but not anymore. With her dad gone, Leticia felt utterly alone in the world. As Leticia Barman, she only had a sick mom who now lived with her aunt.

Her phone buzzed. A message. Lightning-fast, she checked it.

Get three blondies to my house right now. You can make them four. One for you.

"Wait, what? Oh, Uncle, what have you done to me!" she groaned in frustration, dreading the task of redressing as Dexter and searching for "blondies" for her boss. Welsh had certainly never dealt with this; Leticia was sure his wife would have divorced him long ago.

Another notification appeared. This time, her eyes widened at a $50,000 credit alert from Justin.

This man definitely understood the power of motivation.

Before she knew it, she found herself heading to the closest club near her house, easily picking up three blondes and hailing a cab to the address Justin had sent. As the cab stopped, she shook her head. Instead of another villa, Justin's location was... an apartment.

"He better have money to pay for this," muttered one of the girls with a heavy fake English accent.

"That's right," echoed another.

Leticia ignored their complaints and led them to Apartment 356 as instructed. She pressed the doorbell, and the door clicked open. The sight before her caused her to choke on her saliva. Justin stood in a white towel around his hips, very low and almost revealing his groin. His chest, it made Leticia lick her lips as she was instantly dehydrated. And his hair– Could a man look less delicious with wet hair!?

_You're Dexter, a man... Stop looking!_ She chastised herself.

The girls groaned, disappointed by the lack of grandeur in his accommodations, but their spirits lifted at the sight of Justin himself.

"I brought them, sir," Leticia said tightly.

"And I can see them," Justin replied flirtatiously, his gaze fixed on the girls. He opened the door wider to reveal a luxurious interior that sharply contrasted with the building's modest exterior.

"Hello, beauties!" Justin greeted, and the girls responded with giddy excitement, rushing in like uncontrolled swarms.

Leticia stood uncomfortably at the doorway, forcing herself to maintain composure.

"I'll take my leave now, sir," she said, hoping to escape as the girls began getting comfortable—too comfortable, stripping down to their shiny underwear.

Justin laughed. "Someone's forgetting their position as my shadow. Don't worry. I'll give you one girl to keep you busy. Leticia won't kill you..." His voice trailed off as he tried to bait 'Dexter' into revealing his relationship with Leticia, still desperate to connect Dexter and Leticia. Honestly, the phone call still bothered him.

Leticia panicked briefly but steadied herself. "Who is that?" she asked with feigned confusion.

"Oh, sorry, I thought that was your girlfriend's name," Justin lied smoothly.

"No, sir. I've never mentioned my girlfriend's name, and I don't think it's necessary," she replied firmly, puzzled by Justin's strange fixation on Leticia.

Time wore on, and Leticia found herself trapped, forced to watch in silent horror—and involuntary intrigue—as Justin entertained the women. Sometimes she closed her eyes, but the moans of the women triggered her curiosity so much that she had to watch in detail every move of his.

How he sucked their breasts like he owned them, his fingers working in-between their legs, bringing images from the night at the bar. Damn, she hated him even more. Had she thought she was special? That she would haunt his mind? No! She was no different from his whores.

And oh was she embarrassed and disturbed by his uninhibited expertise. Her torture lasted four infinitive hours. Justin hadn't even acknowledged her presence, leaving her to simmer at the periphery, an unwilling witness to his relentless debauchery.

Finally, he paid the girls and escorted them out, refusing to let them stay the night. Same thing he had done to her.

She was furious.

"You. Sit," he ordered her harshly. His eyes brimmed with a mix of disdain and defiance, as though everything he had just done was meant to spite someone else.

His father? Elaine, perhaps.

Leticia didn't move. "I'd prefer to stand," she said stiffly, discomfort seeping into her every word after all she'd endured.

"Look at the top right corner of the TV," Justin directed.

She hesitated before letting her gaze drift to the indicated spot. Her stomach sank.

"A camera? Oh my God, what have you done? Are you planning to blackmail those girls?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. No one in that video has anything to lose. I'm a known whore, and those girls? They loved being watched."

"Then why record it?"

"I need you to send this video to Elaine and my father," he said with unnerving calm.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Send it to them through an untraceable source. Demand money if you want. I don't care. Just get it done before dawn."

Leticia stared at him, incredulous.

"I can't do that. It's illegal, and..."

Justin cut her off with a sneer. "Would you prefer unemployment? Because my father wasn't bluffing yesterday. If you refuse, I'll tell him you resigned—or ran away. Trust me, Dexter, he'll track you to the ends of the earth, and you won't like what he does when he finds you. So, my dear, loyal Dexter, send the damn video."

Leticia froze, paralyzed by frustration and humiliation. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back.

"Did my uncle know I'd end up here? Is this what you did to him? Forced him to do illegal things?" she croaked.

Justin smirked darkly. "Your uncle only scratched the surface of my world. This?" He gestured at the TV and the now-empty room. "This is just 0.8%. Welcome to my life, Dexter."