The Seductress

April 6, 2013

6:39 am

Christine Romulo

I lie on this bed naked with a man I hardly know. You may think me a whore, a slut, a prostitute, or any other name you would call to demean me. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. The thing is, I do not sleep with just anyone. The moment you get in bed me, it is a moment that you had not chosen to be in. It was all part of my ploy. It was all a game that you can never win.

Right now, he has something that I need. I long for a touch with a man that I hardly know. Why? Maybe it's because I feel alone in this world. Maybe it's because I need care. Maybe it's because I hardly know myself either. I did not get in bed with him for just a touch. It is also for information.

I put a robe over myself. This is where my real work begins. As he sleeps, I open his laptop on his desk. Foolish man. He thought he is safe inside his home with an incompetent whore. You have not seen who I am yet. He did not even put a password on his laptop. He is just that confident in the safety of his own home. I take a blank flash drive that I always carry and put it on his laptop. I looked for various files in his laptop. After minutes of searching, finally. There are his money laundering activities, ill-gotten wealth, incriminating correspondences through emails, and so much more. This will be the last of him.

"You are not doing that, you little whore."

I turn around, and there he is – awake and conscious. Just in time, I eject the flash drive and hold it in my hand.

"Wrong!" I exclaim. "I already did. Once I hand this over to the government, this will be the last time you will see the world."

"I knew I was wrong to take you here," he says slyly. "I thought you were just a demure little girl who knows nothing about how the world goes around. Right now, I see through you. What are you? Are you one of those college activists?"

"Not really," I reply back. "Have you no knowledge of who I am?"

Then, I see him chuckle. He must be joking. He does not even know who I am. This just keeps getting better and better every moment.

"Little girl, why would I know a peasant from a distant province? All I could see are the eyes of an activist who does not understand what it means to be a governor. Crawl back to where you came from, little girl. Hand over the flash drive, and things will be alright."

Tempting, sure. I love how he is playing this game. I simply let out a sly smile, hold up the flash drive, take my bag at my side, and down goes the flash drive in my bag full of junk.

"No," I say with a victorious smile.

Right then and there, I could see his face turning red. His fists are clench so tightly that it would crack a walnut. From his side, he grabs a wine glass from last night and throws it towards my face. But, suddenly, it went towards the wall.

"Awww, you missed," I say when I realized what just happened. "Frankly, your aim is a bit off, just like your secrets. I wonder what your wife will say when he sees you in jail, or at least, on death row."

"You little whore!"

And suddenly, just like that, he pulls me by the hair and tossed me on the bed. He pinned me down by pressing my arms down, so I could not move.

"You may win the battle by taking my secrets, but I will win the war by destroying every last piece of you, you piece of slut."

I feel him attempting to push himself inside me. He is not going to win. I use my free foot to kick him at the balls. And just like that, he comes falling to the ground. He groans in pain like a puppy that wounded its paw. Poor little thing. Not! I rise from where I lie firmly and on my feet.

"You are wrong once again, Mister Macedo," I say triumphantly. "You are wrong to not know who I am, to not know that I will win against you, and to not keep me away from here."

"Who truly are you?" he asks while holding on to his painful balls and laying on the floor in agony.

I walk towards him and looked him straight in the eye. "My name is Christine Romulo, daughter of Christopher and Irene Romulo, and the one and only heiress to their fortunes. All of that legitimate. You may want to write it down, in case, you know, you forget who I am. I will win every battle you throw towards me because I am who I am."

I take all of my clothes and bag with me. Maybe I'll take this robe too, just in case. I put on my Louboutin heels, walk my way out, and slam the door. That is how you make an exit, and that is how you make a mark on a criminal.