Siren of Julio Santayana: A Dark Revenge Romance ENGLISH

Chapter 7

She gripped on the man's thigh, but her hands were so small that she couldn't wrap the tone muscles around her. Pushing him was a struggle as his hand on the back of her hand was pressing her face against his stomach. It frustrates her how she felt so weak, and powerless against the man. 

She's been struggling her entire life. She experienced all the humiliation that existed and she knows of, but she's never been into this kind of humiliation. Everyone who passed by will instantly think she's doing wonders to this man's anatomy, especially with the animalistic groan he just let out. 

That kind of scenario is not new around here, so it's easy to say the men who are running after her think they're in with that kind of horrible act in public. 

"Go," the man above her groaned the order to the men who gaped at them. The corner is dark enough. And he covered the rest of the girl so as not to let any of them get a good glimpse of her and recognize her. 

The order startled the men. They caught Julio Santayana f-ucking a w***e on the street when they're in the middle of finding a certain woman for Pablo Cartel. But this is none other than Julio Santayana. Don Cartel would only laugh if he reached this news. Knowing how the man barely got affected by the women flocking on his feet. 

Footsteps of the men were heard as they retreated and left the man to the sudden call of pleasure. When the sounds faded and he was sure they all left, he stepped back away from the raging woman, feeling the fire rose to his system. 

It's not his plan. He didn't mean to hide the woman from Don Cartel’s men, but his instinct moved on its own accord to control his body. For the first in his life of being a calculative assassin, he failed to calculate all his actions. Pushing down the woman to kneel in front of him was his biggest mistake, next to following her to her home on their second meeting. Especially that she kept on struggling, not minding how his body reacted to every action as his member sprang to move beneath his tight pants. He wouldn't be surprised if he fainted with the intensity of the rising pleasure, but he would surely kill himself if that ever happens. 

Or perhaps end this woman's life for putting him in such a disgraceful misery. 

He has to blame them for those disgusting nightmares. He is yet to learn how to stop this woman from appearing in his dream and make him hard in the middle of the night. He needed sleep, but he most needed to take a cold shower to kill the pleasure. It's been happening for the entire month now, and the lack of sleep frustrates him. 

He got laid every now and then, but none of the girls he brought to himself satisfied him. He still found himself so damn hard in the middle of the night that sometimes he feared to sleep. And having to see this woman will surely not help with the situation. 

Or he should interrogate her and demand what she did to him. 

Siren abruptly stood and glared at the man. She would wish to push him hard on his chest until his head hit the opposite wall behind him. She would if only he hadn't taken a step back like he knew she kicked him in between his thighs for what he did. 

"What's wrong with you?" She failed to control herself. If the event doesn't turn so awfully like that with her in that position, she would just leave. She has no time to entertain a perverted man on the street. But this is no other man. This is the same man who gave her three million pesos cold cash and followed her throughout her way home just to tell her not to stop working in the clubhouse. Particularly in the Playhouse. 

The man only stared at her. The shadow of darkness was covering half of his expression, but she could see a glimpse of distortion. She narrowed her eyes at him. Compared to the other men, this man has a vacant expression that seems to be plastered on his face. Like a natural part of him. It took her half a minute to recognize one of the emotions clouding his menacing eyes, is frustration. Simply because she feels the same way. And she has no time learning everything about that look on his face. 

The only thing clear was his stiff body and the movement of his chest as he took slow but deep breaths as if he's in the middle of turmoil inside him. 

Siren rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but the man moved to touch her by her arm, stopping her. Almost instantly, she shrugged the man's hand and tugged on her arm, surprised at the warmth of his hand. She hissed her anger and waited for the man to speak. To know the reason he's stopping her. 

Fine, she's glad she saved her from that man, but he's obviously a lot more dangerous than them. She heard how he barked a single word and the bulky men turned around to continue their search without even trying to see who's the woman kneeling in front of him. 

Siren doesn't plan to survive danger only to thank this perilous man. In this world, darkness embraced the weak, blocking the light to pretend to be someone else’s protector, only for him to devour him. There are no protectors and saviors. It’s a war between the strongest predators to earn the weakest prey as a reward. 

This man is no different. A menacing predator shedding a taste of danger on his trail. 

“Where is it?”

“The what?” she asked back. 

The man frowned. He doesn’t want to repeat his question. He doesn’t want to explain. He doesn’t want to stay any longer with the woman either. 

“My wallet,” he said in a strong, gruff voice. 

Siren blinked. Raising her chin up, she swallowed to pretend unaffected and confused instead. It was easy to play innocent in front of the Barangay Chairman, and to anyone who accused her of stealing, but she found it hard to feign her innocence in front of this man. 

He stared right through her eyes as if a mere blink of an eye could tell him if she’s telling the truth or not. In fact, he looked like he knows what he’s talking about, and asking her for the wallet only means he’s certain she has it. 

“You gave me three million only to risk your life saving me from those men for a wallet that a million pesos wouldn’t fit?”

His eyes squinted down at her and her confidence to lie. “A check will do,” he replied, hating himself for entertaining her arrogance, but answering to her anyway. He could tell the woman doesn’t get to familiarize herself with a check well enough. “And several credit cards.”

“I don’t know,” she replied in a crisp voice. “You dragged me here by yourself so I―”

“I lost it the last time,” he interrupted, gaining a frown on her expression. For a moment, he almost believed she’s above suspicion with how she played her expression well. She must have learned that for being a prostitute for years now. That kind of deceitful act often works with anyone who fell for a devious woman like this one. She’d say all the insults and seconds later deny she said it, and anyone (even those who heard her scream profanities) would believe her. She’s that good with her innocent role. 

He could only imagine the number of men who fell for her fatal charm. And to hell, he would let himself be one on the long lists of fools. 

“Your loss is not my concern.” She shrugged and turned to leave again, but the man advanced on her. She squealed, placing her hands on the man’s rigid body to keep him away, but his hands moved around her. It took her a few seconds to realize he’s searching her. Drastically feeling on over her dress and exposed skin on her thigh for his wallet.

She only has their uniform’s thin and short dress. She doesn’t bring a pouch for her make-ups like the other girls. The man realized that and stopped his body searching. Stepping once again two steps away from the woman. 

“I don’t know where your…” she trailed off when he lifted a black wallet in his hand. She firmly closed her eyes but instantly opened them again before the man could notice her reaction. Her hands reached out to snatch the wallet back from the man, but he pulled her away from her. She pushed herself back near the wall, afraid of feeling his body again. “That’s mine.”

“You didn’t even stutter,” the man pointed out, a little amusement or annoyance dripping in his tone, she’s not sure. “This is a man’s wallet…”

She parted her lips, but the man didn’t let her explain, or lie again. 

“...you snatched it from one of the men who tried to talk to you.” 

Her eyes widened. It was on her way to the backdoor of the Playhouse. There are men around. She wouldn’t do it if some of them didn’t step a little closer to her as they handed out their contacts. 

“T-That’s―” Now she stuttered. Was he watching her?

“The truth. Where’s my wallet?”

She blinked rapidly. “That’s not your wallet. Just because I have someone else’s wallet on me doesn’t mean―”

“I saw how you stole this. No one noticed because their attention was on your face and body. You seductively smiled at the man, caressing his arm to give him the wrong signal, and then you left. Disinterested again? You continued walking with his wallet.”

Siren gaped at him in disbelief. After moving into their apartment, no one has caught her in the act of snatching. Even this man hadn’t realized she got his wallet from him during their last encounter and wouldn’t know it if he’d not purposely watched her. 

There were only a few incidents she was caught during her childhood days in the street and it was because she knew how her mother, Jocelle, never tolerated stealing. Once somebody realized she’s trying to steal their bags or wallet, Eli would run on the streets, to the market, and around the shortcuts and narrow-streets around the area to lose the people. Most of them are not a citizen in the area, so it’s easy to run to where they couldn’t follow her. 

Yet, this man had followed her on her way home, and she knew it was the first time the man had been there. She’s certain because of his expensive clothes that looked comfortable like the VIP in the Playhouse. A single shirt could cost more than their monthly rent. And his rich perfume. 

No one in the Abaddon District could afford to buy those things. Foreigners and some local or non-government organizations who helped the poor rarely get inside the narrow-streets, or they’d lose everything before they find the way out. 

This man is something else, she concluded. 

“I knew you’d take more if…” the man continued and lowered his eyes to her body. And he’s right. She’ll take more of their wallets if she has a pocket, or if her dress is not fitted enough only for her body, and nothing more. She can take only one wallet, so she chose the thicker one. 

“I don’t have your wallet.” She gritted her teeth and turned around to leave him. She expected him to stop her again, but he didn’t do it the moment she moved. She stepped out to the opening and out of the corner he had dragged her into. 

But only two steps after she came out, she halted. Her eyes widened to the men who were looking for her. They’re on their way back to their posts on the back door of the clubhouse. Their scowling eyes darted from her and over her shoulders. Julio stepped behind her, also stopping for the same reason she stopped. 

Siren’s option was to run. This area in Makati with the surrounding clubhouses is a den to the highly guarded opulence who seek entertainment. There are only a few crimes, and Siren never encountered one in her three years of working in the Playhouse. So she hopes people who see her being followed by this bulky, foreign man will help her, hoping they’re not aware of Pablo Cartel’s power that will surely stop them from helping her. 

She’s ready to run. Her right hand moved to grip the first man, the one closest to her by his head, and maybe smack it against her knee if she can successfully crouch him down. But a huge hand grabbed her hand before she could lift it higher. 

She was ready to punch the man behind her. Julio, if that is really his name. But he grabbed her hands and brought them behind her. Forcing her to incline her chest towards the men as pain ripped off from her arms. It wasn’t enough for the man, though. He pushed her against his chest, using only one hand to grasp both her hands, as the right hand covered half of her face, enabling her to breathe. 

“I’ll take care of her,” The man’s warm breath on her neck tickles her. His left hand pulling on her arms. She’s already wincing in pain before she realizes it.

“You found her,” one of the men said the obvious. They were sure surprised to see the two together, but there was not a single doubt in their eyes. They nodded with the man as if he just didn’t lie to them earlier. Which they still didn’t know. 

Siren struggled, cursing the man, but her voice was muffled. Biting on his hand was impossible because he kept on tightening his constricting grip on her mouth every time her lips moved. She believed few more struggles left, and she’d faint underneath the merciless man. 

“I’ll take her to the car. Inform Don Cartel now,” he continued. He didn’t wait for any of them to say anything. She pushed Siren forward, taking her with him, and together they walked past the men. His hands still planted on Siren’s face and arms. 

Three of the men headed to the back of the building. The other three attempted to follow Julio, but he jerked his head to them. Groaning when the woman’s hand nearly went down below his stomach as she continued to struggle. 

“Secure the place,” he ordered, motioning for the people watching. Some don't give a damn of the scene. 

The three men glanced at each other. Finally, confusion was written on their faces. But it’s not the type of confusion Siren hoped for as a sign for them to doubt this man. But they were puzzled, as to why Julio Santayana would care with the people watching. 

For once, Julio doesn’t do his job in public for the spectators to ogle. But they understand that they have to get this woman tonight to give her to Don Cartel. Julio must have an exemption, they thought. But securing the area like he’s afraid of the cop’s being one of the on-lookers? That was what confused them. 

Julio was already away before they could come up with a reply. They turned around to make sure none of the people watching were trying to alert the authorities. 

“Her boyfriend’s possessively hot, eh? I like men rough,” one of the women there said when they lied and said Siren’s man was looking for her. The black men frown because they were talking about Don Santiago, not Julio. 

But then, what kind of woman doesn’t see Franco hot? 

The man pushed her forward. She stumbled but luckily didn’t fall to the ground. Her head spun around, her hair whipping around her as she turned to the man. However, she flattened her lips and only glared at her, wondering why he'd brought her to the other side of the road. Any type of vehicle was nowhere to be seen. At first, she thought of leaving the man, but she knew he would stop her again. 

She straightened the dress riding up to her thighs, flipped her hair behind her, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you just help me out? Again?”

The man frowned. He didn’t like how she had said it. It felt like an insult. Pablo Cartel Santiago would kill her once he’s done to her, or if he decides to be a little generous and give a piece of her to his men. He can kill her now and Cartel will say nothing about it as long as he shows her dead body. 

And here is the man, thinking she’s being saved by someone who paid to cut her life span. 

“You have my wallet,” he answered hoarsely. His thumb feels on his belt, only to remember he didn’t bring his gun with him. Once again, the woman is lucky. Because if she, for once, tries to insult him for sparing her life for some seconds, he’d instantly kill her despite having an oath to himself not to kill innocent anymore. 

Maybe ending her life will end his sleepless night and wetting his pants, dreaming of making her breathless beneath him. 

“Oh, please…,” Siren rolled her eyes and smirked to the man. “We both know you don’t own it. You’re not Julio Santayana. Who knows, you’ve probably caught me in the act because what… it takes one to know one, no?”

“You think I’m a thief?” His eyes narrowed.

Siren almost laughed at the tone in his voice. Is he insulted? Their group looked like they could kill a person without blinking. Especially how well he handled the gun he pointed at her before. She would honestly believe her if he introduces himself and says his name is Death. It’s palpable anyway. 

She shrugged. “Well, yes, you gave me millions in cash, but the wallet’s insides look like it can buy the entire squatter district.”

“It’s in your house… My wallet is in your house,” he concluded alone.

Siren’s lips parted. She rummaged her mind for a lie but bit the inside of her cheek after realizing she had spilled the details about the wallet. It’s one reason she hates to speak. She preferred to keep her silent because once she opened her lips, she’s already failing herself. 

From where they’re standing, they could see the entrance to the Playhouse. And from there, she saw the man Don Pablo Cartel leaving the clubhouses, going directly to the car that pulled upfront. Her eyes narrowed to the familiar girl tailing behind their group. She’s not leaving with them, but she’s looking around, looking for someone. Looking for her. For Siren. Waiting for those groups of criminals to take her.

“Eileen,” she muttered to herself. 

Julio followed her gaze, shifting on his height when he saw Cartel entered the car. He’ll have to make an excuse why this woman is not in the car yet. And before he could come up with a good alibi, he groaned at the hard object shoved down on his thigh, dangerously close to his member. 

The woman kicked her; he realized as he watched her running away. She must have thought she hit him hard enough to think she can run. But he has no plan to run after her. Behind him, he heard the footsteps of Don Cartel’s men, so he knelt on the floor, his hand on his knee and in between his legs. He pointed in the opposite direction the woman ran, and the men quickly headed in that direction.

He clenched his jaw when his hardness jerked against his touch, but soon, a smirk appeared on the corner of his lips. His eyes were directed to the direction the woman ran. If she thinks for a moment he’s playing with her…

His lips frowned, the smirk faded as he recalled his nightmares of her, and realized he’s getting a lot of it tonight again. It’s his ego that’s stopping him from asking his hand for help.