Everyone who was anyone was working to understand how the rip between universes would impact their lives. Some people and personal, trivial concerns, but Chrysanthemum had no time worrying about the little things. As the CEO of a major importer and exporter of goods, the rip was a potential avenue for major business. There was no telling what goods might exist on one side and not the other, and she had the good fortune of prime location. Van Hart Enterprises was based out of and handled the largest amount of its shipping through New York. The board was putting in extra hours connecting with businesses in Bizarro-New York and things were looking up.

Of course, not every potential business partner was the type you listed on the books. Chrys and her company had a basic understanding of the major players in the New York Underworld, but the new world was rife with possibilities. Ears were pressed to the ground, but it was hard to investigate when all leads and evidence were on the other side of the tear in the universe.

Chrysanthemum’s first break came, funnily enough, from a plaything. Maybe Chrys had some time for little, trivial things. A new world meant a wide range of new toys to play with, and she had found herself a lovely one with wings and tufts of feathers around her collarbone. Wings were always intriguing, but the woman she collected for herself had bird-like wings rather than angelic wings. Her wings existed in place of her arms, like the Harpies of old. It was all Chrys could do to keep herself under control as she examined the unique anatomy.

It was the pain of having the feathers of her wings pulled out one by one that eventually caused the pretty birdie to slip. She mentioned the organization she worked for. No important details, but she did clarify it was big. She was a foot soldier, or claimed to be, for a group on the other side of the rip. She was dropping off a package at the club Chrysanthemum was at the night she was taken.

It was thrilling news. It was not going to save the birdie; she admitted to being a bit-player, which meant she would do no good in connecting Chrys to someone with authority. There were too many things she wanted to know about the bone structure of the wings and how much pressure hollow bones could handle. (Spoiler: not much.) Before she broke, she did give up one word for Chrys: Syndicate.

Chrys started spending more time on the other side of the rip, talking to and torturing people until she worked her way to the right people. It helped that the leader of the Syndicate was so big time, he lacked anonymity. Jorge Cervantes, referred to fearfully as Poseidon, was the type of criminal who was untouchable. Legitimate businesses and power allowed him to hide his dealings in plain sight.

Chrys was accustomed to hiding in plain sight, and she made a habit of putting in time when it came to researching a target. Poseidon would not be some toy to play with or break, but he was still a target, and she needed to know the kind of man she was hoping to do business with. Much of his time was spent at the Atlantis Club, which seemed to be his base of operations. Chrys began to frequent Atlantis, because a clubgoer could be a regular occurrence without garnering unwanted attention. She would follow the man when she could during the day, making note of the people he did business with and the company he kept. She had no PIs on the other side, so she had to put in the work herself, which she was fine with. Stalking and research always appealed to her voyeurism.

Eventually, Chrys decided she wanted to have her first face-to-face meeting with Poseidon. The meeting had to be off the books because Chrys was a major presence in the business world and who she associated with mattered. Rather than schedule a meeting, she hoped to get on the titan’s good side in a more personal way before making any proposals. He still had no clue he was being watched, so there was no reason to suspect a lithe brunette who wanted some time with a powerful man. The gentleness of her proposal would depend a great deal on the merit of the man she was dealing with.

Below the main floor of the club, there was an underground bathhouse. It was the perfect setting for a more intimate potential business meeting. Chrys could work from a point of strength in a business skirt, but she had plenty of advantages out of one as well. Poseidon occasionally spent time down in the warm waters of his own business, so Chrys spent several nights forgoing the club in favor of those waters.

Her perseverance paid off when, one night, she walked in to find the strong upper body of Poseidon emerging from the illuminated blue water. She pulled away her towel to reveal the bikini underneath, smiling warmly. ”Would you mind a little company?”

The rip. It was something that turned out to be quite the boon for someone like Jorge Cervantes. Having had his men exploring the other side thanks to a woefully undermanned portal, he learned a lot from this parallel universe that he simply couldn’t have imagined. He was already making plans for his own expansion on the other side, thanks in no small part to his recent business arrangement with the few new friends that he was making from that side of the dimensional void. The best of all news was the fact that there was no S.U.P.E.R. That, in and of itself, was a fall that Jorge simply could not ignore.

Of course, there were still aspects of a takeover that needed to be discussed, plans that needed to be set. There was no telling how long the dimensional rift was going to stay open so he needed to act and set plans into motion. River, of course, was handling the technical aspects of his ideas, one of which she said was impossible – or at least it used to be until physics itself was seemingly broken. He had ever faith that River could keep his project secret and work on it from the shadows. If anyone could pull it off…it would be her.

But that was only one side of the coin. On the other side, Jorge needed to plan more legal means to gaining a foothold on the other side. He had plenty of money (which, thankfully, both governments were willing to trade in) but it wasn’t just money that was important, it was real estate. He needed a foot hold on the other side, something to call his own. With time and persistence, that puzzle piece will also fall into place, but it was going to be a slow trudge. It was doubtful that many real estate holdings will want to listen to a man from a mirror dimension.

Again, he would figure it out – and one of the best places to “figure” things out was in a nice, hot bathhouse.

As much as the club upstairs or his office, the bathhouse was just another place that Jorge Cervantes called home. Dim blues lit the interior, with interspaced neon reds and sapphires. Portholes lines one side of the wall, allowing bathers a wondrous view of the river. However, it wasn’t just the water that people came here for.

Only some of the most elite were allowed to use the bathhouse. Silver Level members, people with big money or big reputations (or both) were allowed to be here, to partake in the warm, bubbling waters, refreshing grottos, or incense-infused steam rooms. Because of the strictness being allowed here, there normally wasn’t a large crowd. On this particular day, there was only one individual utilizing the service, sans a senator in one of the steam rooms along with his “assistant”, Bambi. The only man who sat soaking in the hot waters, was Jorge Cervantes himself.

Sitting on ledge underneath the waters, Jorge sighed as he leaned back against the wall, his arms stretched out along the rim. Eyes closed, the kingpin was the picture of calm and serenity as he sat back, breathing in the scents of lavender-infused waters that created steam all their own. This really was one of his favorite thinking spots and the evidence of that was clear given how peaceful the man seemed. However, though his face was calm, his mind was actively working at his current issue. He would figure it out, of course.

However, his serenity was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. The man stubbornly did not open his eyes, merely assuming that whomever the interloper was, they would bypass this currently in-use hot tub. But when the sound stopped short of his location, Jorge lifted one eye to look upon the person who was clearly standing nearby.

Then the other eye followed. Okay, so that wasn’t necessarily a bad sight to see. The woman, a bit younger than him, was standing by the edge of the water, giving him a sweet and warm smile. She was beautiful, from what he could see. And as she unwrapped her towel, it was clear that she wasn’t shy about the assets she possessed; and boldness was something that Jorge appreciated utmost in others.

>> ”Would you mind a little company?”

He smirked. Not seeming completely interested, the man merely nodded his head a single time and gestured with one hand towards the opposite end of the tub he occupied. ”There’s plenty of room.” He waited until she climbed into the tub and settled herself in before he continued to rest his head back, his eyes closed. ”Enjoying yourself, young miss?”

Chrys had long ago decided that people as dangerous as she was should not be allowed to be attractive. So many of her old behaviors were given a free pass because she could show some skin, pout her lips, or give someone bedroom eyes. They lived in a shallow society and most people were just inherently more willing to trust a beautiful woman. Still, it was not her place to propose changes to the social contract; she barely followed the norms of society anyway and she was not about to make her own life more difficult.

Poseidon eventually opened an eye to check on the intruder in the room. She earned a look with both eyes, which she was certain someone with plain features would not have warranted. From all reports, she doubted he was a man people approached privately, making her decision a bold gambit.

Fortune was on Chrys’s side and she was given permission to join him in the tub. His response was almost impartial. Poseidon was evidently not the man who would trip over himself to court her company. He was well aware of his status and importance; with those things came the confidence of knowing that he would rarely have to pursue anyone for anything. Amass enough power and people would always seek you out.

In two worlds filled to the rafters with weak men, it was occasionally refreshing to find exceptions to the rule.

Chrys lowered her body into the water, embracing the heat against her skin. She sank slowly, her thighs, hips, and waist all taking turns disappearing under the surface until she was a few inches shy of eye-level with the man across from her. The jets pulsed through the water, soothing away the tension from her body. All pragmatism aside, she was enjoying her frequent trips to the bathhouse. Ideally, her conversation with Poseidon would go well so she could continue the habit.

The owner of the club closed his eyes, but began a conversation with her all the same. It was a friendly enough question and one she could answer honestly. ”Very much so. We really don’t have an establishment quite like this on the other side,” she said, looking to mention quickly that she was from the other side of the rip. Withholding the information did little to help her, and she would have to confess to it eventually. No sense lying in rare moments where she could tell the truth without consequence. ”Whoever was responsible for the design has exquisite taste, don’t you think?”

Jorge was not a man to be trifled with. Everyone knew it. Even those who didn’t know of his other activities knew that it was better to not toy with him, to not push his buttons, and given that his “buttons” were so unseen, it was a rule of thumb to just avoid him all together unless he seeks you out personally. The same was said for this club. While Jorge demanded attention wherever her strolled within its walls (and outside, in some neighborhoods) he truly was someone who not only possessed an important air, but a dangerous one.

For someone to approach him wasn’t completely unknown, but it was a task that was usually done out in the light of day. For someone to approach him, in the bathhouse, on their own accord, well they wanted one of two things from the man: 1.) money, or 2.) prestige. They either wanted money from someone who they could tell was wealthy, or a roll in the hay with hopes of earning either bragging rights or a chance to stick a little closer for as long as possible.

This woman, however, Jorge had to wonder. He had only glanced at her, but in that glance he saw something that piqued his interest. She was beautiful, yes, and she had a glint in her eye that was dangerous, but there was something else – familiarity. Oh she wasn’t one of those types who had an alternate from this side of the void. No, she was an entirely different matter. But for now, he would play it cool and simply way to see what would come up in conversation.

His head rest back, his interest in her minimal at best, he closed his eyes and inquired how she was enjoying the amenities the club offered. A man as important as himself should never close his eyes to a stranger, especially in an isolated part of the club, but he wasn’t exactly defenseless. Aside from the cameras that tracked every bit of movement in the club (even those that it shouldn’t), Jorge himself could sense the woman as clear as day. The surrounding water muddled his water sense somewhat, but given that the woman was close to him, he could sense her every movement.

So long as she kept her distance, they would be fine; at least until learned what she wanted and how decided how to respond.

>> ”Very much so. We really don’t have an establishment quite like this on the other side…Whoever was responsible for the design has exquisite taste, don’t you think?”

In response to his question, the woman seemed to sing the praises of his establishment, without seeming to realize that he was actually the creator. He smirked a bit knowingly, saying nothing on the matter and just continued to sit in the warmth and comfort of the bubbling water, letting it wash over him, imagining that it took his sins away. Then again, Jorge had never been one to worry about such trivial things.

”So I’ve heard…” he said softly in response. It was true. He had heard from his informants that there was no Atlantis Club, nor anything like it on the other side. That only meant that his particular brand of vice needed to make its way across the dimensional void and it would be a goldmine. ”…such a shame.”

He didn’t immediately respond to her second thought, instead continuing to ignore her as he simply soaked in the hot waters. In the back steam room, he could sense that the senator and his assistant were getting rather “busy” so he was assured that no one else would be disrupting them. Letting the woman sit and stew, though, was his way. Jorge knew better than to give such a person too much attention right off the bat so by maintaining control of his responses, he was controlling the situation.

It was only after another minute or two of this quiet before he finally lifted his head to eye the woman again. This time, while his grin was still there, his eyes were scrutinizing every inch of the woman’s face, reading her as only a man who had years of experiencing interrogating interviewing people could have. His grin widened a bit before he spoke.

”A Ripper, eh?” he said, commenting after her being from the other side of the void. ”This whole situation must strike you as rather…strange?”

Chrysanthemum could not tell if Poseidon could tell she knew his identity. In his world, it was likely everyone who came through the doors of the Atlantis Club knew the man by name and by sight. Being a “ripper,” a term now commonly associated with those who crossed from one world to another, Chrys might have been granted more leeway for her potential ignorance.

He did not correct her or point out that the club belonged to him, which made her curious about his motivations. If he wanted to flaunt his power, it would only make sense to claim ownership of the place she clearly found impressive. He could have been taking an opportunity to embrace anonymity for the sake of normalcy, but she was hoping he was not a man who thrived on “normal.”

Then again, with the way he was disregarding Chrys, he might have made the choice to keep conversation to a minimum. She replied with, ”A shame, indeed. We never realized what we were missing.” Poseidon, rather than responding, returned to blatantly disregarding her.

Chrys was not a fan of being ignored. Her initial reactions were to either become overtly seductive in an effort to earn his focus or throw a fit and threaten to carve into his broad shoulders. Those were Old Chrysanthemum reactions. Old Chrys was not going to help her with the big-picture goals because Old Chrys never saw beyond instant gratification. She was better now. Mature.

So, Chrys pouted, but remained quiet. She had to be patient, so she chose to focus on the water pulsing against her skin. The heat was kept high, but her body was adjusting. The temperature was soothing, but Chrys was a fan of the initial moment of exposure. When her foot had broken the surface of the water, it was scalding to the touch. Sinking in allowed the burn to climb across her skin. It was like she was being scorched forever wicked action and thought. She did not believe in Hell, so it was the closest she would ever get to burning for her sins. She was a fan of the burn as much as she was a fan of her sins.

She opened her eyes to find Poseidon looking her over carefully. Very carefully. He was assessing her face so closely, she was worried he saw something behind it. Chrys was close to asking what he was so keen to inspect when he spoke first.

They were talking about the Rip. It was a good place to start, actually. She could work from there. ”Life is strange,” she replied with a Cheshire grin, shrugging her shoulders. ”At the end of the new day, it’s just a big change. That means new people, new places, new opportunities.” She paused after the last word, letting it hang for another few seconds. ”I’m just letting the Rip work for me.”

Chrys did not want to focus entirely on herself. They were having a conversation; she was not selling herself yet. There had to be a give and take; reciprocity. She should say enough about herself to gain his interest without saying so much she came across as self-absorbed. (That would have been another Old Chrys choice.) ”How about you? What are you making of all this?”

She was…interesting. Jorge didn’t know who this person was but he would find out soon enough. As he observed the woman relaxing in the waters of the hot tub, he reached over to the cellphone that was sitting on the edge of the pool of water. Plucking I up, he casually turned his attention to the screen, tapping a few commands into it and ringing up the one person whom he knew was keeping an eye on everything. By all appearances, it would simply look as if the man had interrupted his own relaxation time to perform some standard business.

Once his message was written out and sent, Jorge casually locked his phone and set it back down on the ledge as he awaited a reply. In the meantime, he finally deemed it appropriate to look upon the other woman, giving her a small smirk as she relaxed in the heated waters.

At just a glance he attempted to size her up. She was pretty. Probably used to getting her way. The boldness that she carried with her was refreshing and she wasn’t demanding his attention with vapid words or an air-headed laughter that could feel paint from the walls. No, she was clearly a more calculated woman, as displayed by her show of patience. There was no trying to fully garner his attention, in fact, she was just waiting for him to make a move? Possibly. Hrm, what did she want?

He would clearly discover that in due time. Meanwhile, he instead gave his attention to the woman, attempting to drum up some dialogue between them as to not let the silence continue to choke her out.

She had essentially admitted to being a Ripper, someone from the other side. In doing so he inquired as to how strange this whole ordeal was. It seemed to be some better fitted to the a science fiction novel from the 50s or a bad television movie crafted by a channel dedicated to the same genre. But, for as impossible as everything seemed, it was, in fact, really happening. And they needed to either go to pieces or accept it.

>> ”Life is strange…At the end of the new day, it’s just a big change. That means new people, new places, new opportunities…I’m just letting the Rip work for me.”

A smirked darkened Jorge’s lips and, gently, he dipped his head towards her in continued admiration for her fortitude.. ”Amen to that.”

That was how Jorge viewed this whole ordeal. It was an opportunity rather than something to fear. It was something that would change the world and it needed to be taken advantage of as soon as possible. Jorge was a business man at heart and that meant he needed to always be able to notice a golden opportunity when it presented itself and this was certainly one of those.

>> ”How about you? What are you making of all this?”

Watching her, the man sighed as he looked up and around the bathhouse. His eyes roamed over the interior, glancing at everything that he had managed to create with his own two hands. It seemed impossible for any single man to do but Jorge had the determination and the fortitude to push through the obstacles to make this a reality.

And he was certain it was something that he could do again. And, with a whole other world to conquer, why shouldn’t he try? So, turning to the younger woman, he gave her a sly smile. He watched her, his eyes making effort to hide his appreciative gaze. ”Clearly…this is an opportunity. And...one that shouldn’t be wasted.” Whether he was talking about the rip or the woman, it was uncertain, as it could be attributed to either.

Poseidon could choose to keep quiet regarding his prestige and success, but it was easy to recognize a businessman. They were always the ones who kept their phones closer at hand than a high school senior girl. He sent a quick message, but there was little in the way of excitement on his expression. Definitely a “business as usual” message. She could not blame him; Chrys was rarely enthused about the day-to-day aspects of her work.

When the phone was set aside, he offered her a little smirk. She was more appealing than work, which she could have told just about anyone. He was done ignoring her presence now, which she appreciated. Whether he knew it or not, she put a lot of time and effort into getting this close to him. Yes, she got so much joy and pleasure out of stalking him, it was more like play than work, but that did not change the time commitment. Her time was worth significantly more than most.

Chrys’s answer about the Rip was a world view; when big events happen, it was smart to watch everything that shifted and emerged to see what could be made of the new situation. Poseidon appreciated her answer, which was encouraging. He was a man who understood how to take advantage of opportunity, which could bode well for her intentions with him.

Poseidon’s own opinion of the Rip was more concise, but similar to her feelings on the matter. There was an ambiguity to the “opportunity” he spoke of, and whether he was talking about her or his business ventures, she felt a rush of anticipation in her body. After involuntarily biting her lip, she gathered a calculated reply. ”Agreed… I’m excited to invest in new opportunities. Take the good of this world and bring it over. There’s no more exciting business than the business on the other side of uncharted water.”

Chrysanthemum brushed brown hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. The ends of her hair were already beginning to cling together and plaster against her neck and shoulders, but her concern was keeping hair away from her eyes to allow her total eye contact. ”Though I’m not foolish. I’m very careful with where I invest my money… resources… even my free time… with so little of it, you just can't waste it on... unsatisfying endeavors, correct?” So maybe he was not the only one who could think of two possible goals at once.

It was true that Jorge saw the rip as just another opportunity. A world where he didn’t exist? Where the Syndicate didn’t exist? He had sent operatives to investigate and so far no one could find any evidence or any organization like the Syndicate. Oh, there had been attempts. The Order. Ragnarok. Groups that had tried to change the world and drew some of those mutants with a more blurred moral line. Sadly, all of them had failed in one way or another. There wasn’t a lot of information that his people could find, but it was enough for Jorge to know that the Syndicate could probably do well in such a lawless world.

The path to finding allies was a hard one, though. Not everyone was the more approachable and any business ventures from the other side of the dimensional void was something that could rightly make others suspicious. But those petty things were beyond Jorge. He knew he would find a way in. As a matter of fact, he was already making certain business arrangements and meetings. The second that his own organization had a legal standing in the new world, the more easily his plans would work.

Until there, there were other ventures that occupied his mind and his time. New allies made, new friends waiting to be made, and certain individuals with veiled interest who hid in the shadows. The thought made the man grin for a second before he distracted himself with the young woman who soaked herself in the pulsating waters.

>> ”Agreed… I’m excited to invest in new opportunities. Take the good of this world and bring it over. There’s no more exciting business than the business on the other side of uncharted water.”

He grinned. It was sly and knowing as it stretched across his lips. Certainly, this was a woman after his own heart. Though there was the smallest tinge of suspicion. Again, she wasn’t of the vapid breed that tended to hound him for attention. She was clearly of a different kind and that made him scrutinize her just a tad closer.

She took his interest as a means to throw her own flirtatious sentiments towards him. Her eyes alit with his attention, her lips curled into a predatory smile, and Jorge had to admit that any other time, he would have been enraptured. But Jorge rarely played all his cards at once and, instead, remained a passive picture of someone who was only mildly interested in this quarry.

>>”Though I’m not foolish. I’m very careful with where I invest my money… resources… even my free time… with so little of it, you just can't waste it on... unsatisfying endeavors, correct?”

Bit by bit she was dropping breadcrumbs about who she was. Money, Resources, Time, all things that only those people who dealt in business would bring up in conversation. Of course that wasn’t the crux of her point – it was the fact that she wouldn’t waste her time on unsatisfying endeavors. Jorge wasn’t a stupid man, her point was not lost on him in the least. Still ever the sly silver fox, he tilted his head as he eyed the woman closely. She certainly doing her damnedest to pour on the sweet, sweet honey. What was wrong with a little fun?

A smirk and Jorge subtly slipped one of his hands under the water. ”Oh, I can certainly understand…” he commented. There was a soft twist of his wrist, unseen by her. Slowly the water around her submerged form began to change. Suddenly the water jets seemed to be find any knot or tension that the woman carried and worked them an unnatural precision. His intervention wouldn’t immediately be noticed – honestly, maybe it was just that good of a hot tub. ”…time is valuable, after all…Miss…?” he should probably get a name out of her at this point.

From a selfish perspective, Chrysanthemum would have loved to watch Poseidon fawn over her like so many men had done in the past. He was giving her more attention, but his responses were still measured. If she kept herself from feeling petty, Chrys knew it was a good sign that Poseidon was not some weak-willed man. She was not here to subjugate him or turn him into her plaything; she was here for business and she needed strong business partners.

His responses were measured, but Poseidon was undeniably curious about her. She was an attractive younger woman who made it a point to approach him and talk to him not just of carnal pleasures, but opportunities. Chrys was working hard to have appeal beyond her body, because she would not convince him to take her seriously if he only saw her as some vapid, sex-hungry admirer.

Poseidon acknowledged her desire for worthwhile pursuits, and suddenly there was a shift in the jets of the tub. Chrys was unsure if he hit some switch or if the change was just conveniently timed, but suddenly torrents of hot water were targeting all the spots in her back that carried tension. A small moan of pleasure escaped her lips before she caught herself. It was nothing sexual; the change just felt that good. Instead of shying away from whatever was happening, she sank further into the water, allowing her shoulders to drop under the surface to enjoy the treatment. ”I’m sorry. I don’t know how they designed this tub and what makes it do that, but I now want one in my apartment.” Maybe if they got to the nitty gritty of business dealings, she could negotiate for the name of the contractor who designed the Heavenly Tub of Infinite Relaxation.

Still, as her new friend said, time was valuable. ”Van Hart. Chrysanthemum Van Hart, CEO of Van Hart Enterprises, to be exact.” It was time to start showing some of her cards, and she wanted to lead strong with one of her Aces. ”And yourself, sir?” She asked as if she was unaware she was speaking to Jorge Cervantes, known in the darker circles of his universe as Poseidon.

It was just a subtle manipulation of the water jets. A twist of his hand, subtly beneath the waters turned the stationary jets into magic fingers that immediately coursed over the submerged woman’s body, seeking out those points of tension and soreness. Though Jorge couldn’t sense whatever it was that bothered the woman physically, he knew those specially pressure points that tended to carry the weight of such heavy thoughts and stress. Though each person was different, in some ways, they were exactly the same.

The closed eyes and the small hitch in her breath as she started to allow herself to sink deeper into the warm waters was all the man needed to know that he was one the right track. Of course, he merely grinned, watching her from the other side of the hot tub, motioning the waters currents beneath the surface to undulated and apply the exact right amount of pressure on certain parts of her back. It was a gesture that she seemed to appreciate.

At least, that was what he guessed from the moan that rolled out from between her lips. Quietly he kept the pressure on, just enough to work out those last knots, but feigned ignorance as he watched her succumb to them. It was only second where she allowed herself to just allow the waters to do their job before she opened her eyes and realized that she was still in a public setting. That made his grin all the wider.

>> ”I’m sorry. I don’t know how they designed this tub and what makes it do that, but I now want one in my apartment.”

A hearty chuckle. It would probably break her heart for her to learn that she was not going to be able to purchase such a thing. But he would keep that fact to himself for the time being and, instead, diverted the conversation as he inquired after her name.

>>”Van Hart. Chrysanthemum Van Hart, CEO of Van Hart Enterprises, to be exact…And yourself, sir?”

He mused silently. Van Hart. He recognized the name. Many of his business probes into the other world had brought back lists of names of companies. Companies that may or may not have interest to Poseidon. If he wanted to plant a foothold in this other universe, then he needed a place to start, a legal place, and organizations like Van Hart Enterprises were certainly the way to start. His interest piqued, he quietly nodded his head in her direction – especially now that he knew exactly who she was.

”Ms. Van Hart,” he said with honey slathered words. ”What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance.” The question was turned back on him but, before he could answer, the man stopped at the sound of a small chime coming from his cell phone. He sighed, looking somewhat disappointed. ”My apologies. Also at the grindstone, as they say…”

Plucking his phone up, Jorge tapped the screen and swiped to his latest message. His brow furrowed as his lips twisted in thought. Clearly he was a busy man, dealing with many important matters, matters which could never really to engage in conversation with strangers. While he was sure that the young woman across from him was accustomed to having people stop the world for her, Jorge certainly didn’t give off that air. Instead he operated as if she were just another person and, for the moment, she was. That is…until he saw the message he had received from River.

His expression betrayed nothing of what he was reading, merely a man who worked hard, tapping away at a new message. With a nod, he tapped his phone off, gently set it down upon the ledge of the tub before he turned his eyes back onto her, a pleasant smile upon his lips. It had all the appearance of a something that was more than just sweet – it was almost…predatory.

”Again, I’m sorry for our interruption,” he said. Standing up in the pool of hot water, it looked for a second like Jorge was getting ready to leave, however he instead crossed the tub and took a seat directly across from the woman. He gave her another interested grin as he settled back beneath the water. ”There. I figure this would be better so we aren’t shouting at one another from across the tub.” Another turn of his wrist and the caressing waters continued to roam across the woman’s body, rolling down and curling between her toes and under the pads of her feet, massage those spots that tended to be sore for powerful women who ran about in high heels. The waters continued to work their magic as he gave her a sly smile. ”What were we talking about again, Ms. Van Hart?”

Chrysanthemum’s father was a terrible person. It took a long time and plenty of therapy for her to reach that breakthrough. She was terrible in her own right, but it did not excuse the monster that man was to his child. Even still, not everything he left to his daughter was terrible. On top of some lessons in business and covering her tracks, he gave her a last name that mattered.

It was always a game changer to introduce herself as Chrysanthemum Van Hart. The Van Hart name was tied to a successful business empire with money, reach, and resources. She had seen men ignore her bedroom eyes, her lithe frame, and her (admittedly modest) cleavage on display, only to start salivating at the knowledge of her wealth. Poseidon was far from drooling, but it was clear her name earned her more attention as his words sweetened.

Things seemed to be going in the right direction when the man’s phone went off again. He certainly was busy, even at such a late point in the evening. It was the cost of being too important to disappear from a company. It was commendable. Chrysanthemum made an effort to let her company run independently when it could because she needed the occasional time to herself. Picking up phones during play time was always a mood killer.

Eventually, he was able to set work aside again, and Chrysanthemum noticed a change in the way he was looking at her. No longer was she someone to be ignored.

In fact, the last thing the man seemed to want to do was ignore her, as he closed the distance between them. It was a sudden change, but not unheard of when working with a businessman who knew a good thing—or maybe two good things—when he saw them. ”I’m not complaining,” she answered coyly, before a new sensation made her inadvertently bite her lip.

The water was pulsing and massaging her feet, easing away a week of wear and tear from her office life. It was heavenly but… maybe too conveniently targeted? She looked at Poseidon, considering his moniker. From what she heard, Syndicate was a pro-mutant organization. It stood to reason the leader might be part of the same camp. Curious…

Knowing he might be a mutant gave her great potential leverage as one of his kind, but it also put more variables on the table. With the space between them diminishing, Chrys contemplated sneaking a taste. It seemed like a possibility with the flirtatious tones they were speaking in. She just had to find her moment.

She started small, resting a hand on Poseidon’s knee under the water. ”We were talking about opportunity and business. You said you were a man who acknowledged opportunity. Are you also a man of business, Mister…?” It would be helpful if Poseidon could finally admit who he was so she could move forward with her plan.

Poseidon circled closer to his prey. Anyone else in said situation would have figured that the old man was merely drawing closer so that he could make his move. How many men of Jorge’s age could pass up the chance to feel young again, to flirt freely with a beautiful, young woman who seemed to display clear interest in him? By all accounts, he would have been rather stupid if he didn’t take the opportunity for what it was. But it wasn’t all as it appeared, was it?

Slipping under the water, Jorge relaxed back in his seat, watching the woman as she seemed to smile just a bit wider, basking in the attention he seemed finally willing to give her. Clearly she was a woman who liked to be on her target’s minds, maybe even reveled in it. Jorge would give her that, but it would be fleeting, at best.

>> ”I’m not complaining,”

”Good,” he said sweetly.

On leg crossed over the other as he watched the woman fairly. Up close he could get a better appraisal of the woman and her appearance. She was younger, fit, and clearly took care of herself. To be able to do that and run around as the CEO of major corporation on the other side was an impressive feat. He could only imagine the uphill battle she had to traverse in order to achieve her station. Additionally, was it an honorable trek to the top?

Heh.

Her hand drifted off to his knee and he smirked a little at the woman’s forwardness. Clearly she didn’t mess around when she saw something that she wanted. How many men had crumbled into obedient lapdogs at such a gesture? How many did she make feed from her hands? Did she ever make good on her lustful promises? Jorge didn’t know but what he did know was that he certainly wasn’t one to fall head over heels for such a woman. Too many times he had seen such tricks, too many women and men had attempted to blind him with seduction, but aside from experience, well, his last phone messages turned out to be rather enlightening.

>>. ”We were talking about opportunity and business. You said you were a man who acknowledged opportunity. Are you also a man of business, Mister…?”

Her fingers tickled around the skin of his knee. Her smile was both sweet and wicked. Jorge matched her expression with a smile of his own but it was far slier and less lustful than the woman that she offered to him. At her comment about him being a business man, he carefully dipped his head in acknowledgement. But to her follow up, the man stubbornly remained silent. Instead he waited for a breath, his scrutinizing gaze never shying away from her until, finally, he spoke up.

”Yes, I am a ‘man of business’…” he quoted her. Devilish grin then swept across his features as he continued. ”…but, of course, you already knew that, didn’t you, Miss Van Hart?” He leaned back, smirking with amusement as he watched her. ”Tell me…” he whispered dangerously. ”…did you enjoy the view while stalking me these last few weeks?”

It was his turn to be blunt.

It was hard to remember moments earlier when Poseidon was ambivalent toward his tubmate, because he was suddenly a looming presence. She liked attention and she liked control, but Chrysanthemum could not help but feel control was something she lacked. He did not shy away from her touch, but he did not melt in its presence either. He was still confident, together, and his smile unnerved her. He was not weak; more than anything, she felt the presence of his strength as he met her eyes.

He finally spoke, and Chrysanthemum’s eyes betrayed her as they widened in surprise. She had gotten so good at being careful! Chrys had so many rules to keep herself unnoticed when she tailed her prey. She was never supposed to end up in a position where she was called out so clearly and confidently. He was not taking a guess, either; he said three weeks. That was too specific and accurate to be a guess. Chrysanthemum was busted, and suddenly, she understood the feeling in her gut.

She was the prey now. Cornered, exposed prey.

Chrys’s hand pulled away instinctively from Poseidon’s knee. She was on the defensive, so she reclined in her seat, shying away into her corner of the small pool. ”I wouldn’t call it stalking, necessarily,” she admitted, now clearly more on edge as she sought to explain herself. ”I’d prefer to think of it as… preliminary business risk-assessment?” Well, that was a large collection of syllables for such a bull**** excuse.

As Chrys shifted in her seat, she noticed the jets of water were still working out the knots and kinks in her back and the tension from her feet. This was notable because both those things had moved. It was now like the water was following them, meaning the water around her was being controlled by more than just the tub’s jets. Suddenly, she realized how unexpectedly shortsighted her plan to corner a man called f***ing Poseidon in a pool of water was. ”I… heard about you. A lot about you and I was intrigued. I wanted to understand the kind of man you were.” She bit her lip, hoping she had not found herself in too deep. ”T-that’s understandable, I hope?”

The look in Chrysanthemum’s eyes was so entirely worth it. When he had reached the text message with confirmation that this was the woman who had been stalking him for the last several weeks, Jorge wanted to have a little fun with her, just so that he could lower the boom at his own choosing. From what his intel could gather, she had managed to find out a pretty substantial amount about him. Nothing all together incriminating, mostly heresay, but enough to wet the woman’s tongue. Now that she was here, in the middle of one of his hot tubs, Jorge relished the absolute control he had over the younger woman.

That’s all this was about, wasn’t it? It was about control, about knowledge, about who could trump who. This woman may have been practiced at it, she may have had her resources, but Jorge had more and he had experience on his side. There was little she could have done without him noticing. So, with his power play made, Jorge merely continued to offer the woman his most sly of smiles as he eyed her oh so carefully. How was she going to try to weasel out of this? Lie? Beg? Laugh it off? He would only wait and see.

Her eyes widened before lowering. He could see the wheels in her mind working overtime to try and find a way out of the situation. She clearly didn’t like having control wretched away from her but Jorge was enjoying it immensely. Sitting with his back still pushed against the edge of the tub, he carefully crossed his leg, watching her every body movement as she fought for some inch of ground.

She wouldn’t get any.

>> ”I wouldn’t call it stalking, necessarily…I’d prefer to think of it as… preliminary business risk-assessment?”

She slunk away like a puppy being admonished for the first time. The confident and bluntness with which she acted in before had melted away and now she was just trying to find words, any words, that would make sense. In a poor attempt of an excuse, she tried to explain that it was just risk-assessment, nothing more. Jorge cracked a smile, but it wasn’t one of amusement, it was sheer danger.

”Risk assessment…” he whispered, rolling the words out between his lips. ”…do you find talking to me…risky?”

The water continued to work on her body. However, with how much she was fidgeting, it was clear that it was no longer just the tub that was manipulating the waters to find her pressure points and curling between the sensitive skin of her toes. Rather, the water would slow, and somehow, begin to feel a bit…heavier, thicker, harder to move in.

>>. ”I… heard about you. A lot about you and I was intrigued. I wanted to understand the kind of man you were…T-that’s understandable, I hope?”

The water of the tub continued to move around her but as the seconds ticked by it was getting more and more obvious that this wasn’t naturally moving in this manner, or even mechanically, thanks to the tub. It was, in fact, another force that moved the water the way it did. With a clench of his fist, the water would slowly begin to build pressure around her submerged stomach, pushing inward all around, reminiscent of a python wrapped around its prey. She would be unable to move until he released hed, especially considering how much of herself she submerged in the pool.But all the while, Jorge only continued to smile.

”If you had heard about me…” he said as he reached over to a silver case that was sitting at the edge of the pool. Picking it up, he opened it to remove a long cigar from it. Cutting off the end and tossing it aside, he placed the cigar between his lips and grabbed his lighter. ”Then you would know that I, a rather…risky man, rather enjoys my privacy. And, with said knowledge, I have to ask a very, very obvious question…” he inhaled the burning smoke from his cigar and breathed it out in a firm cloud towards her, watching as the cloud enveloped her head. ”…what the actual f**k is wrong with you?”

Just as he said this, footsteps could be heard entering the bath house. While that shouldn’t be too terrifying a sound, the fact was that these footsteps pounded into the tiled grounds, the heavy boots of two or three of Jorge’s security detail, Duke Manchester at the head of them. They all marched towards the pool, dangerous looks in their eyes, but none so dangerous as the demonic glee that sparkled in Jorge’s. She better hope her answer was a good one.

Did she find Poseidon risky? Considering the man was the leader of some kind of shady criminal organization, it would have been reckless to assume he was anything but risky until she better understood him. The predicament she found herself in was evidence that her concerns were well warranted.

Sadly, she came to that revelation at the wrong time.

Why was she in her position? She underestimated Poseidon. She underestimated Poseidon’s resources, knowledge, and pride. She overestimated her own caution. They were all valuable lessons she would have to take into consideration should she survive their encounter.

Her survival was less likely with each passing word the man spoke. Her fear that he was the one controlling the water around her proved to be valid when the massaging jets shifted, becoming a current that surrounded her waist, constricting and keeping her in place. It wrapped around the body parts she had foolishly submerged, including her chest. If the pressure persisted, she was going to struggle to breathe.

A weak moan did escape her throat. Under different circumstances, without the fear of Poseidon potentially killing her, she would have been enjoying the experience.

Stuck in place, searching her mind for a solution to her problems, Chrysanthemum carefully watched as Poseidon grabbed and lit a cigar. He was confirming her theory that he was a dangerous man, and questioning what kind of logic would bring her to meet him, knowing what she knew. He interrupted his own belittlement of her decision making to blow a dense cloud of smoke in her direction, leading her into a coughing fit. Once again, under different circumstances, she would consider paying the man for that kind of treatment.

>> ”…what the actual f**k is wrong with you?”

Chrys could hear the footfalls of security entering the room, clearly under Poseidon’s command, but her focus remained on the man. Security would not save her; he had to, which meant it was time to show all her cards.

Unfortunately, with water tightening its grip of her body and her mind frazzled by her total failure and defeat, Old Chrys poked her head out briefly. ”Many things, clearly.” She groaned through the strain of her labored breathing.

Chrysanthemum could feel the looming eyes of security ready to take care of her, however they would choose to handle that command. She refocused her mind, prioritizing her own safety, which meant appealing to Poseidon. ”Okay, it was a… debatably bad decision to come to you in this way, but I needed to know you wouldn’t turn me away. I have resources. I have money. I needed contacts who could get things done in the new world.” From a business standpoint, all those things were true.

She was speaking a lot against the pressure keeping her lungs from refilling effectively, but she pressed on. ”There are other “organizations” like yours, perhaps, but none that stand for what you do. Mutants adore you. They’re adoring a Mob Boss because he puts their needs first. That matters.” Chrysanthemum may not have advertised her mutation, knowing it would put her in a precarious PR situation and ruin her playtime, but there was no love lost between her and humanity. She was not a loyalist to the mutant cause, but she did trust her own kind more than the humans who tried to control and manipulate them. ”I want to offer my business to someone like me.”

If she had to talk much more, she was going to end up passing out. If that happened, she was not looking forward to finding out where she awoke—assuming she would at all.