I stride into Surrender like I own the place.
And I guess technically I do—at least I own it as much as Enzo does. And he walks in like everything and everyone should bow to him as soon as he enters. So I mimic his behavior.
I am strong.
I am fearless.
I am losing my f*****g balance in these heels.
Why is it heels are what women are supposed to wear to feel powerful and in control? Why didn’t society pick something like tennis shoes, or better yet, furry slippers for women to wear?
But no, society decided women only look hot when balancing on six-inch spikes.
Instead of following Enzo, I walk next to him. Trying my best to look like an equal, instead of his pawn. I don’t know where we are going, but I assume Enzo’s office.
I was right.
We enter his office and almost immed
