This Sweet Surrender, Ep. 1
Rating: đ„ | What happens when an Italian firecracker who's spent her life running from love meets a dominant tech CEO who's been waiting three years for her to say yes?
This Sweet Surrender
Copyright © 2025 Linn Rhinehart - All rights reserved
NSFW: Content warnings
Quick Recap: This is the sequel to the short story, This Saccharine Sensation, which introduced us to Gianna Ranieri and Joe Lawrence. After three years of daily text messages that began when Italian-born Gianna needed tech support for her collegeâs learning management system, they finally met in person at a cafĂ© with her friends Linn, Anna, and Foxy acting as chaperones. Their chemistry was undeniable, but Gianna had not been truthful about her health.
The evening ended with Joe proposing a bold arrangement: After he returned from his business trip, they would spend two weeks together - one at her place and one at his. As Gianna got in a taxi to go home, he made her a promise: âThree Sundays from now I want to know where you live and come climb into your bed, but only if you decide to take that chance.â
You can read that story for free on Kindle Unlimited.1 This one, the real story, begins as the cab drives off and Gee sees him waving her off from the pavement outside his house. The countdown to their two-week trial relationship has begunâŠ
This Sweet Surrender, Episode One
Gianna leaned back against the worn leather seat of the black cab, her heart hammering against her ribs like a wild bird trying to escape. Through the rear window, she could see Joeâs tall figure growing smaller as the taxi pulled away. He remained standing on the pavement, one hand in his pocket, the other raised in farewell. Even from a distance, that wolfish grin made her stomach flip.
âWhere to, love?â the driver asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
She gave her address in Forest Gate, then pressed her burning cheek against the cool glass of the window. Had that really just happened? Had she really just agreed to spend two entire weeks with a man sheâd only just met in person?
A man who apparently wanted to... what was it heâd said? Something about collecting a smack for each time sheâd said no to meeting him? The thought sent an unexpected shiver of anticipation through her body that had nothing to do with her condition.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming text, and she fumbled it out of her bag.
Linn:
YOU LITTLE MINX! HEâS GORGEOUS! CALL ME!
A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her. Trust Linn to cut straight to the chase. She typed back:
Will call when I get home. Still processing.
She switched to her conversation with Joe, their three years of daily messages scrolling past as she moved backward through time. She thought about all their morning check-ins and goodnight texts. All the times heâd made her laugh when she was having a bad day. Somehow, all those moments of connection had become as necessary as breathing to her. And now he wanted more. Just not of her. Not really.
The cab hit a pothole, jarring her spine, and Gianna winced both at the pain and the sharp reminder of everything Joe didnât know about her. Everything she hadn't told him or carefully kept hidden during their text conversations. Sure, sheâd mentioned her âhealth issuesâ in the vaguest possible terms, but sheâd never told him the whole truth about living with ME.
She had never described the mornings when getting out of bed felt like climbing Everest. Never explained why she sometimes disappeared mid-conversation, or how she had to count her spoons each morning, rationing her energy to be able to cram as much normality as possible into each day. And now he was coming to her home. For a whole week, no less, which meant he would see everything. Eeek!
The thought made her stomach clench with a familiar anxiety. He was going to see her walking sticks propped by the door, her mowbray seat and the medication lined up on the bathroom shelf, and her wheelchair folded in the hall closet for those impossible days. And that wasn't even half of it. Presenting a carefully curated version of herself to look cute for an evening was one thing, but maintaining that facade for days on end? In her own home, no less, where every little accommodation and adaptation would be on full display? Impossibile!
Gianna gathered her handbag and tried to compose herself as the taxi turned into her street. Her legs felt unusually shaky. It had been a long day and her emotions had been all over the place as sheâd pushed herself, wanting to look her best for Joe. Tomorrow she would pay the price.
Another text came through as she handed the driver her card:
Joe:
I already miss my tomato. Three Sundays. Count them.
Three Sundays. She crossed herself the way her mother used to do - and still did for all she knew. That deadline was too far away and too bloody close. She only had three short weeks to prepare her home, her body, and most importantly, her courage. Three terrifyingly short weeks to decide if she was ready to show Joe Lawrence all of herselfâincluding the parts she only ever shared with her spoonie sisters. The parts that made her feel broken and less than a woman. The parts of her that had kept her running for twenty years.
Her phone buzzed again:
Joe:
Sweet dreams, baby girl. This is only the beginning.
Baby girl. The endearment made her flush all over again. Nobody had ever called her that before, and coming from him, it felt right in a way she couldnât explain.
She climbed the stairs to her flat, one hand trailing the bannister for support. Her legs protested each step, but she pushed on, determined to at least make it inside before she collapsed.
This is only the beginning, he'd said. The beginning of what? That was the real question, wasn't it? That, and whether she brave enough to find out.
The flat welcomed her with blessed silence. She locked the door behind her, kicked her shoes off, and leaned heavily against the wall, catching her breath. Her purple paisley walking stick, the one sheâd purposly left behind today as sheâd wanted to look like a normie, stood propped in its usual spot by the door. She grabbed it now, grateful for the support.
âPerchĂ© mai?â she muttered to the empty room. What had she done? What on earth had she been thinking?
The quiet flat offered no answer. Gianna made her way to the bathroom, each step more laboured than the last. Post-exertional malaise was already setting in, her muscles protesting the dayâs activities. Sheâd pushed too hard, stayed out too long, sat upright too many hours. It was really bad. So bad, in fact, that she hardly recognised herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked a right mess, and yet... alive. More alive than she had in years.
All out of spoons, she couldn't have gone through her evening routine for love or money, so she settled for the bare bones. Medication. She emptied a small army of pills from her weekly organiser into the palm of her hand, popped them into her mouth and swallowed them all in one go. She flushed them down with tap water, also straight from her cupped hand, and grimaced both at the bitter taste and the stupid look on her face.
Her phone rang just as she was changing into her pyjamas, a comfortable soft cotton piece that bore no resemblance to the silk nightwear sheâd once favored. Linn's name lit up the screen.
âSi?â she answered, putting the call on speaker so she could continue getting ready for bed.
âDonât you âsiâ me, you secretive little minx!â Linn's voice filled the room. âI want details and I want them now! Did you seriously hide a gorgeous tech executive from us for THREE YEARS? How? And, more importantly, why?â
Gianna couldnât help the giggle that welled up in her. âHeâs not a boss man. He works in tech support.â
âBollocks! I was there, remember? Saw it with me own eyes. That chefâs kitchen probably cost more than I get paid in a year. And there's no way a man wearing a suit like that is answering help desk calls, love. Not even in London.â
âTo be honest, I donât know what he does,â Gianna admitted and sank onto her bed. The dayâs excitement was crashing into the reality of her condition, and the last of the adrenaline fading into a familiar leaden exhaustion.
âI mean, I know he's the one who helps me with Le Mess when it breaks, but...â She trailed off, realising how little she actually knew about Joeâs professional life.
âWell, he clearly does very well for himself,â Linn said. âAnd heâs absolutely besotted with you. Poor bloke couldnât take his eyes off you. I thought Anna was going to start fanning herself.â
âYou think he likes me? Like, really likes me?â Gianna hated how small her voice sounded. How vulnerable she felt.
âLike you? Honey, that man was devouring you with his eyes. Nobody looks at someone theyâve just met the way he looked at you. Whatever you've got going between you has been building for years.â
âHe wants to spend two weeks together.â She lay back on her pillows. âOne week here, and one week at his place.â
âHello? I was there, wasn't I? So, what are you going to do?â
âI said yes.â
âSo, what are you going to do about all the things you havenât told him? Have you even mentioned the ME yet? Or the fact that you can go for days without leaving your bed? Does he know anything about your condition and how it affects your daily life?â
âI donât know⊠I thought... maybe if I rest up, I wonât have any bad days while heâs here.â Gianna closed her eyes.
âRight.â Linnâs snort of disbelief came through clearly. âAnd maybe Iâll wake up with fully functioning legs, in the morning. Come on, Gee. You know better than to set yourself up for failure and heartbreak. If Joes means half as much to you as keeping him a secret all this time, you need to be honest. Give him a chance to get to know you. The real you.â
âAnd hat if he canât handle it? What if he takes one look at the real me and decides Iâm too much work? Too broken? Not worth the hassle?â The fears that had been circling her mind all day finally found voice.
âThen heâs not the man for you,â Linn said firmly. âBut from what I saw today, I think he might surprise you. Just... be honest with him before he arrives. Give him a chance to know what heâs walking into.â
Gianna thought of the text exchange theyâd had on her way home. Of all the messages over the years and how he always seemed to know when she was having a bad day. How he'd send her silly jokes or cute animal videos without asking her to explain why her responses were shorter or slower.
âMaybe he already knows,â she said softly, feeling herself drift off to sleep. âMore than Iâve told him, I mean.â
âMaybe. But a maybe isnât good enough for something that's important to you. Tell him, Gee. Promise me you will.â
âI promise to think about it.â
âGianna Maria Ranieri, I swear by everythingââ
âI know, I know.â She sighed in some weird state of painful bliss as her body sunk deeper into the mattress. âIâll tell him. Before he comes. I promise.â
The idea terrified her. Sheâd spent three years carefully constructing an image of herself that wasnât exactly a lie, but it wasnât the whole truth either. On screen, she could be Gianna without the ME. Without the constraints and constant calculations of energy expenditure versus payoff.
âAlright, love. Try to get some sleep now and call me if you need anything. And Gee?â Linn switched her mother's voice on, âfor what itâs worth, I think heâd be an absolute tosser to walk away from you.â
After they hung up, Gianna lay in the darkness, too exhausted to move yet too wired to sleep. Her body ached, her bones were burning, but her mind raced with possibilities. She smiled thinking about how heâd called her baby girl. How he'd talked about punishment and said she would be his for two weeks.
Heat bloomed in her core at the memory of his words, his possessive touch on her leg, his wolfish grin that promised things sheâd only read about in her paperback romances. Heavens knew how much she wanted it. Craved it. But what if the truth changed everything?
She reached for her phone and pulled up their text history again, scrolling back to find clues she might have missed. Had there always been this undercurrent of dominance in his messages? A hint of something darker, more controlled?
A new text appeared at the top of the screen:
Joe:
I can see you're still awake. Go to sleep, baby girl. Doctor's orders.
She nearly dropped the phone. How did he know? Had he guessed, or could he somehow see when she was active on her phone? She didn't even have time to respond before another message came through:
Joe:
I want you well-rested when I arrive. Three weeks isnât long enough for you to recover if you donât take care of yourself now.
Her fingers hovered over the screen. Should she tell him now? Type out the truth and send it before she lost her nerve? Just get it out of the way and leave the ball in his corner? Probably. But what would she say? By the way, did I mention I have a chronic illness that means I sleep all the time and need to bring a wheelchair to go shopping? Oh, and most days the pain levels make it hard to function like a normal person?
She couldnât think of anything to say, so she just typed:
Yes, sir.
Her cheeks flamed the moment she pressed send. Where did that come from? Sheâd never called anyone âsirâ since she left Italy. And technically, she hadn't said 'sir' there either. Mortified, she stared at the three dots that appeared and disappeared on her screen until, finally:
Joe:
Good girl. We're going to get along just fine. Sleep well, Gianna. x
A strange calm settled over her at his words. Good girl. The simple praise resonated somewhere deep inside her, soothing a lifelong ache she'd worked hard to suppress. She set her phone on the nightstand and closed her eyes again. Whatever happened between them, whatever this was, she'd have to figure it out tomorrow.
For now, she would follow his instructions and go to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, she'd find the courage to tell him the truth before he arrived to claim his two weeks.
[Last updated: 10 May, 2025]
Hi, Linn here. This story touches on something deep. If youâve ever wrestled invisible illnesses and hidden desires, youâre not alone. Wanna talk about it? Message me or drop an email to linn@aswewrite.com
Gianna and Joeâs story continues next week. Subscribe or upgrade to get the next chapter straight to your inbox. And if you're already swooning, consider telling your favourite bookish spoonie about it.
Where Do You Want to Go Next?
đ This Sweet Surrender
âĄïž This Sweet Surrender, Chapter 2
đ Want early access to new chapters?
Upgrade to get full access to The Snuggery archives
đ Think a friend would enjoy this?
Give a gift subscription or share this post now
âïž Would you like to leave feedback on this chapter?
Leave a comment or send me a direct message:
~
Links and Footnotes
Please Note: As an Amazon Associate, we earn a small commission from qualifying purchases via affiliate links, marked (aff.) below.
This Saccharine Sensation (aff.) âI need a man about as much as a fish needs a bike!â Gianna has repeated these words for 20 years to shut people up, but she canât fool herself. Of course, she has dreamed the hubby, house and rugrats dream too, but what would normie life look like for someone like her? How do you find a man when the only one you talk to is âJoeâ in the tech support chat? Can you fall in love with someone you havenât met? Someone youâve never seen? And if you do... What next? Read it in Kindle Unlimited or buy the eBook.