The Year Package

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The Wire Transfer


I stretch my arms and my legs as my back cracks from a blissful slumber— it was the kind of stretch that sends spasms across your body, and you made weird noises.

“Is this what Master Dominic spent his money on?”

One eye opens immediately, I make out the blurred image of a person, but my eye closes before it straightens out. It was a technique I had picked up when I wake up with little to no recollection of my night.

On the outside, I appear sleepy and tired on the inside steroids had just hit my mind.

What the fuck am I doing here? Did I sleep over? No...I don’t think so. She said Master Dominic, does he own the hotel? Nonsense, he can’t own the hotel...can he? No, I paid for this hotel. I organised this. Did he leave me after...after he... FUCKING. BIT ME!?

“The creases between your eyebrows means your mulling over your situation.”

I open my eyes. The curtains have been drawn, and the morning sun is layering through the room; it’s gaze concentrated on the bed. I sit up sliding across the silk fabric that I am sure aren’t the hotel’s, the sheets creased around my legs, exposing the striped lavender pyjama set I am wearing.

“Where is Dominic?” I keep my calm composure staring at the women dressed in all black. She has her back to me tieing the ends of the curtains so they could be held to one side.

“He’s having breakfast.” She tuts loudly as she turns to face me, pulling out a bobby pin from her pocket and sliding her greying blonde hair back into its place beside her bun.

“My clothes?”

We were in a large room painted in a pale salmon colour; there was one cedar to my right another to my left and an archway behind me — no ideal way to escape.

“Back at the hotel, I suppose,” she replies nonchalantly.

Back at the hotel. I suppose! He brought me here naked! I smile sweetly.

“And my phone.”

The lady moves to the side, revealing the swivel chair and my navy leather bag placed on top of it, she picks it up and chucks it lightly on the bed in front of me.

“When you’re ready I’ll be outside. There are clothes in the closet. Dress warm it’s a little bit nippy outside.” She bows her head before walking out the door to my right.

As the softwood closes I pull my phone out. I wasn’t expecting missed calls or anything I wanted to check the invoice and exactly how long I have been sleeping. I unlock the phone sliding across to company app.

F.W., hidden amongst loyalty apps, online shopping and games. I click the seemingly harmless app, and the screen turns black momentarily. I slide my finger, making a star across the screen, and the screen brightens.

Across the screen displays a timer. 13:38:29, I sigh. So I’ve been asleep for eight hours. As to be expected, but that was not my main concern, I slide the screen across to the invoice.

FD: 2.400

-EM. L: 3,000 (H)

RS (V): 1,000


I tap on the last entry, and a range of options came up, I tap away biting the inside of my cheek as I make sure to remember everything I only have one chance before the end of the day to amend things.

I look are the screen, pleased.

FD: 2,400

-EM. L: 3,000 (H)

RS (V):13,000

-BL (1) (M): 12,000


I exit the app putting the phone back in my bag and slide off the bed, my feet touching the soft carpet on the floor. She said clothes in the closet.

I head for the archway staring at the barren walk-in closet shy from a red longline jumper and a pair of brown suede boots. I put the clothes on and head out the door.

There stands the woman on the other side of the hallway her hands placed behind her back as she waits for me.

“Right come along, no time like the present.”

I follow behind the woman as she walks down the hallway, my shoes padding across the beige carpet. It’s not a bad place, I suppose.

For the next 11 hours, I would be here. We walk down a spiral staircase, the wood of the stairs continuing to the floor replacing the carpet.

Dominic had more than one staff hired— down the stairs, I see two more similarly dressed members dusting the flower pots and hanging art on the wall. We walk past their heads are hung low so that we can’t make eye contact.

“You said Dominic was having breakfast?” I ask. The woman waves her hand, ignoring my question but at the same time done in a way as though she was saying We’ll get on to that. I follow behind as we make our way near the end before she took a sharp right walking through an archway.

I follow, and there he was sitting at the head of an obnoxiously long table. One hand is around a coffee cup the other handling a phone as his thumb scrolls effortlessly across it.

“Master Dominic, I’ve brought her.”

He sets the coffee down, his eyes lifting themselves from his phone briefly to take me in, Dominic hums before returning his gaze to the phone.

The woman ushers or more accurately pushes me towards the seat on his left, pulling out the chair and forcefully shoving me into it despite her size, her hands managed to reach my shoulders.

“Thank you, Sybil,” Dominic said. As she sauntered off, Dominic laid the phone on the table face down.

“Good morning,” I said, my hands lie on my lap under the table as I twiddle my thumbs.

“Good morning, Delilah. Sleep well?” His lips twitch as though he wanted to smirk, but the situation didn’t call for it.

“Excellent, actually. Had I known we’d be having a sleepover I would’ve brought some spare clothes.”

“Are the clothes I provided not enough?” he asks his silver eyes bore into my mine intimately however I was not one to shy away.

I smile slightly.

“They aren’t mine.”

Expecting a different response, Dominic clears his throat leaning against his chair.

“I noticed you made some amendments to the invoice.”

Finally, we can talk business. I rest my hands on the table.

“I did, are you not satisfied with the prices?”

A plate is placed in front of me- multiseed bread with a golden glisten of butter on top, two sausages, a perfectly done fried egg with a sprinkle of chives and black pepper, and a tomato. Close to a full English.

“Would you prefer black pudding as well?” Dominic remarks. I breathe out heavy through my nose as he picks apart my thoughts.

“No, I never liked black pudding.”

“I know.” Dominic picks up his phone. “In response to your statement, the prices aren’t what concern me; it’s what they are under. RS, BL. I would like to know exactly what I am paying for.”

I pick out a sheet of paper from my bag, which Sybil had brought along with my food. It was hidden in the lining of my bag so no one could steal it.

I unfold it pushing the plate aside and scoot closer. The paper wasn’t anything special, just a bunch of acronyms with numbers next to them.

“FD is a full day, you requested that I make the arrangements which is the EM. L employer lead and the H is the hotel which I booked with your money.”

“And what about RS with the V in brackets.”

Does no one read the price list anymore?

“I’m a busy man Delilah.”

“Could... could you not read my thoughts? It’s very invasive.”

Dominic raises a brow at me, his lips tilting upwards.

“I’m down by 30,400 dollars I can be as invasive as I want.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He is right on that one.

I clear my throat before rolling up my sleeve, exposing the silver bracelet decorated with crystals imbued with Magenta’s magic. I pluck the yellow one from its holder, crushing the tiny gem between my fingers and sprinkle the gold dust on the paper.

“Citrine the money stone, how convenient,” Dominic remarks. I take his hand making him stiff and rigid his eyes narrow at me as I place it on the paper.

The yellow dust turns a deep red swirling around the paper. Dominic yanks his hand away as the dust settles before burning into the paper, leaving more acronyms and numbers as before.

I pointed to the ‘RS’ first.

“This means risky sex standard price is one thousand dollars.”

“And why is that?” he asks almost mockingly, and I glare at him.

“Because I’m being put in harm’s way,” I scold at him.

“You’re an escort for the supernatural your job entails harm.” Asshole. “Now, now Delilah you’re still on the clock.”

“BL is bloodletting. I believe you’re the only person who drank from me.”

“I don’t play well with others, Delilah,” Dominic added.

“Great.” I run my hand over the puncture wounds on my neck, there was a thin layer of crust over it. “It doesn’t feel deep, and I’m not lethargic or anything this morning to suggest you caused real damage, so ‘M’ is for minor.”

“With bloodletting wouldn’t the starting damage by minor anyway?”

I smirk my thoughts tumbling over the various stories I’ve heard from other colleagues and their escapades.

“There are other ways to get blood without making an incision, Dominic.” Does that cover everything?

“It does, Delilah.”

I place the paper back into it’s hiding place and bring the plate back to its rightful place. It’s probably cold now. I pout cutting the bread that had gone soggy with butter and places a bit in my mouth I sigh heavily. Taste just like home. Not my home here in Seattle but Inverness in Scotland. I am sure I could hear bagpipes in the distance.

“Delilah.” I look at Dominic, who has an intent gaze on me. I swallow the lump of food.


“I’ve decided to buy you.”

“For how long?” I ask.

“For a year.”

My eyes go wide as the mental maths work overload. 2,400 dollars times 365 days what is that. Like-

“876,000 dollars.” Dominic raises his phone to show me his online banking and there it is 876,000 dollars from Dominic to transfer to FW.

I gulp loudly.

A.N. What would you do with just under 900 thousand? What can you do with 900 thousand of illegally acquired money? What will Delilah do? What plans does Dominic have for her for a whole year?

Let me know what you think. Most importantly thanks for reading.

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