>> ”Many things, clearly.”

Jorge grinned. He chuckled. But the pressure did not let up on the young woman he now had completed at his mercy in the hot tub. At the end of the day, even if she could make him laugh, even if she was self-deprecating for her behavior, that didn’t change the fact that she spied on him. River had caught the woman fairly quickly, but Jorge had stayed her and Duke’s hands from doing anything in retaliation. Curiosity pushed him on to learn more about the young woman, to see what would drive her towards such a thing. Admittedly, she seemed as clean as a whistle, maybe a bit forward for attention, but other than that, nothing too off the rails.

Of course, that was only a cursory search. Now that the woman had made contact with him, had gotten so close, he damn well was going to dig deep into every single fiber of her being to find out exactly what drove her to making such a stupid and foolish decision. If she had learned what he was, then certainly she had a big pair of swinging brass ones to get herself this close. Whatever she wanted, well, it must have certainly been good.

He eyed her, closely, boring into whatever twisted black soul she had as he asked her painfully obvious question – what was her deal?

>>”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.”

He smirked as he watched her. ”Heh. How…what’s the word…” he considered for a second. ”…boring.” He sighed, balancing his cigar between his lips as he leaned further back against the edge of the pool, his eyes never once leaving her. He shrugged his shoulders at her offerings. ”I have resources. I have money. And I already have a growing number of contacts.” A dangerous amusement filled his eyes. ”Surely you can do better than that…”

It was true, Jorge was looking for a foothold in the other world, but he wasn’t going to do so with someone who lied and lurked behind his back like this woman. That alone already made her untrustworthy, and it was especially true as there didn’t seem to be any hint that she was a mutant. Jorge had dealings with humans, on occasion, but they were never more than surface level agreements. Chrys, though, was dangerously close to knowing far more than any human should.

>>”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…I want to offer my business to someone like me.”

She was getting more and more uncomfortable. The sounds of the boots marching through the empty halls of the bath house filled the space with sounds reminiscent of a death trooper’s march. Out of the corner of his eye, Jorge spotted Duke (not an easy man to miss given his imposing stature) as well as two other members of security force. They stepped closer, standing directly behind Chrys at this point, simply waiting for word from their boss.

Jorge remained in silence, just staring at the younger woman. She was beginning to gasp a little bit as the water only continued to slowly tighten around her midsection. He had seen people in this predicament before, watching as each breath slowly pushed the air out of their lungs until their voices were nothing more than a few raspy gasps, struggling for one last full breath. It strange to watch the life being strangled out of someone’s eyes. It wasn’t for the faint of heart – luckily Jorge had seen it more than enough times that he remained unfazed.

After a few more moments of contemplation, he finally spoke up, speaking in a rather casual tone. ”You may think that what you have gleaned about me that this is an organization more than willing to deal with the shadier side of things.” He smirked, knocking ashes off of his cigar into a nearby ashtray that was built into the floor. ”And that’s true. In the path to success, one often has to make shady dealings. However…if there is one thing that I have learned…is never make personal dealings with someone who sneaks behind their back.” He grinned and blew another cloud of smoke in her direction. He nodded to Duke.

The pressured water would suddenly collapse, no longer holding the woman up. Before she could fall beneath the water, the strong, dark-skinned hands of Duke Manchester reached down, scooping the woman up from under her arms and lifting her out of the tub. Jorge grinned, watching her being lifted like a rag doll. He lifted his cigar to her in salute.

”It was a pleasure, Ms. Van Hart,” he said with a song in his voice. ”However…” his voice grew a little darker. ”I am no pawn for lowlife human such as yourself.” His gaze shifted to Duke. ”Please, if you will, take her out back. And put in an order to sanitize the area.” He shuddered. Humans. Disgusting.

It was comforting to know Poseidon found the humor in Chrysanthemum’s little outburst. It would have been more comforting if his chuckle did not have all the skin-crawling, ominous quality of a movie villain. She knew better than to joke her way out of her position, because a man like that would just as soon laugh while separating her head from her neck.

He expressed boredom toward her business motivations, making it sound like he could do without her. From her estimation, he could try to claw his way into her world and establish a foothold, but it would be a tedious process starting from scratch. Other businesses might be open to a partnership, but likely no one with the size and options she could provide.

On paper, logic should win out, but she made her error by breaking a trust she had yet to establish. Poseidon needed to be able to trust Chrys if he was going to work with her, and her first choice was to stalk him from the shadows. She should have known; in any good mob movie, even the most dangerous criminals had some sense of honor and respect. A man like Poseidon was supposed to be shown respect above all.

The water pressing against Chrysanthemum dissipated, but only to allow an imposing security guard to hoist her from the pool. Poseidon’s decision on how to handle the intruder was not conducive to Chrys’s continued existence, and as much as she sometimes wondered idly about the pain of death, she could not afford to satisfy that curiosity. She had to think quickly, and that almost always meant finding a way to take advantage of her mutation.

Poseidon made it clear he believed her to be a lowly human, and her words carried no wait until she could back them up. As she struggled in the guard’s uncompromising grip, she got close enough to the skin of his arm to try clamping down.

Her jaw felt the immediate pain of biting down on a hunk of metal. The guard was a mutant; she should have expected that. Fortunately, her tongue did flick across his skin, giving her all she needed to trigger her powers. The man behind her voiced a groan of discomfort, because he would suddenly be dealing with the same jaw pain she was dealing with. She hoped she did not loosen a tooth in the exchange, but if she did, it would be a small price to pay for her life.

Chrys managed to get her own arm close enough to her mouth and she did not hesitate. She bit down hard—hard enough to break her own skin and invoke a sharp spike of pain. The guard was not accustomed to feeling pain—particularly not the pain a frail, thirty-year-old woman’s body would feel. He was experience her arm and jaw pain, as well as the lingering ache in her chest and waist from the water prison. It was enough of a surprise for Chrys to wriggle away from the man’s custody. In doing so, she fell to the floor, hitting her knee hard on the ground—another pain the guard was not expecting.

The other men took a step forward, but Chrys held her hand out, panting. ”I wouldn’t! Anything you do to me, you do to your friend there!” There was blood dripping from her lip and down her chin. It was her own blood, pulled from the mark left on her forearm. She hoped she was providing enough evidence, because she was in too far to quit or run away.

Chrys turned back to Poseidon, her breath still ragged and her voice still horse. ”Not… human. My father was, but he was cruel and foolish, like all of them. I took the power from him. A human’s empire in the hands of his mutant daughter.” Her father was ruthless, so in his last moments, she was surprised to not find the pride in his eyes she so rightly deserved.

”It was my foolish choice to sneak, but I believed it had to be done. I needed to learn about you. To speak with you. You’re the type of man I would lend this power to, because I honestly believe you’ll take it and make something glorious with it.” She had her own private business empire, but if the whispers were to be believed, Poseidon’s goals were more ambitious. Who didn’t admire a man with ambition?

She hung her head low, waiting for judgment.

Jorge was bored now. As entertaining as it was to watch the woman squirm, he did have matters that needed to be taken care of, matters that wouldn’t find a solution so long as he had to deal with this woman. She tried so hard to keep her profile up, to appeal to him using both the visual appeal of her body, and the flattering, seductive words from her lips, but it was something that Jorge was rather unfazed by. How many times had he heard similar request for mercy? And each and every time, they feel on deaf years.

Today would prove to be no different. At the end of the day, no matter how much Ms. Van Hart touted on about her money, her place in the community, etc., at the end of the day, she was just another human who needed to learn a lesson. He was not someone who enjoyed being stalked, being followed, it was a complete sign of disrespect and something for which Jorge could not abide by. If he didn’t allow such things in his own organization, then he certainly wasn’t going to allow it from a complete stranger.

Duke was already in the process of pulling the woman out of the water when Jorge waved them away. Duke was not a subtle man and, he was sure, that his manhandling to pull her out would be met with a certain level of defiance. After all, if Duke was that firm with pulling a woman away in the middle of a crowded club, then whatever private place he was taking her would sure not be very kind. But Jorge knew Duke well and, whatever form of defense the woman would try to keep up would be met with a firm hand.

Either way, Jorge was already turning away to start focusing on other business matters that needed to be tended to. But just as the man was about to turn away, he was stopped when there was a sudden struggle from the young woman. He rolled his eyes a bit, hoping that she would have gone off with at least the smallest part of dignity, but it seemed she was going to succumb to the last-second attempts at freedom. Pity. Had she accepted her fate, that would have almost been interesting.

But, it would seem that Chyrs had a bit more fight in her than Jorge had anticipated. She managed to bite into Duke’s arm (a foolish move given the man’s mutations) but when his head of security winced, holding his jaw, Jorge lifted his yes, curiously. The young woman slipped away, slapping her knee into the ground. She fell, but so did Duke…clutching the same knee in pain. Huh…

The rest of the security detail advanced on the woman but she gave them all fair warning...

>> ”I wouldn’t! Anything you do to me, you do to your friend there!”

A cursory glance at Chrys, followed by another look to Duke, showed that whatever injuries the woman had inflicted upon herself seemed to be echoing in Duke’s own body. How…intriguing. Jorge narrowed his eyes, the cigar hanging from between his lips. The security crew eyed him, but Jorge made no motion to move or speak to them, instead his eyes were square on Ms. Van Hart.

>> ”Not… human. My father was, but he was cruel and foolish, like all of them. I took the power from him. A human’s empire in the hands of his mutant daughter. It was my foolish choice to sneak, but I believed it had to be done. I needed to learn about you. To speak with you. You’re the type of man I would lend this power to, because I honestly believe you’ll take it and make something glorious with it.”

Jorge’s expression was unreadable. He watched the woman closely, his eyes boring into hers yet again as he continued watch her with interest. Duke was in some pain but he was already moving back onto his two feet, one knee bent as it was clearly sore for him to put weight on. The man looked ready to rip the woman apart with his bare hands and, despite the threat she uttered, he damn well would have tried. All he was waiting for was one word from the man still sitting in the hot tub. A damn telepath couldn’t read his mind right now!

Standing up, Jorge crossed his arms over his chest, the cigar still bellowing out smoke from the ember-filled end. A second later though, the man began to climb out the tub. Wait, no, he wasn’t walking…he was…rising? The water in the tub churned and Jorge could feel himself rising higher and higher. Soon only his feet were submerged as the water of the tub supported his weight under his manipulations. One foot out, followed by the other, and the watermancer was now fully standing on the surface of the water, bare and drenched to the world except for a pair of navy blue swim trunks.

One step followed the other as Jorge boldly walked across the surface of the water, even manipulating it to carry him a few steps over the concrete before he stepped off the floating globs of liquid and was back on concrete. He sighed, taking another puff of his cigar. He advanced, slowly the shadow of his looming form enveloping the fallen woman in blue tinted darkness thanks to the illumination of the neon lights around the room.

When he got close enough…Jorge kneeled. Still puffing his cigar, he carefully pulled it out from between his lips, the knocking off more ashes. Eyeing Chrys until she locked gazes with him, Jorge suddenly pulled his cigar out and pushed the burning end into her pale leg. The skin sizzled…but the shout of pain came from behind.

A casual glance over his shoulder and Jorge observed Duke grinding his teeth in pain. Jorge removed the cigar, moving it between his fingers as he turned his gaze back woman. ”Interesting.” Observing her another moment, he sighed as he straightened up. ”But, what’s to say you’re not just hopped up on Ambrosia? Or, what ridiculous name do you call it on the other side? M?” He snorted. ”So unimaginative.” A deep sigh and Jorge tilted his head at her, pouting a little. ”Only one way to be sure…” He glanced to the other members of his security team. ”Take her to one on of the back rooms and strap her to bed, tightly, and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” He turned his gaze back to her, a sickening smile on his lips. ”Twenty-four hours outta do it.”

Poseidon was a master of keeping his expression neutral, because when Chrys looked up from her groveling stance, it was impossible to get a read on him. He was either considering the validity of her admission or he was trying to decide the most satisfactory weapon to bludgeon her with. While she had suggestions for the latter, she hoped for the former.

After an ominously long wait, Poseidon got to his feet, but not like some mortal stepping out of the tub. The water lifted him to its surface, seemingly defying gravity. It was the kind of display that made someone appear as something greater than man. It was hard not to be impressed in the face of her impending potential death.

He approached and Chrys felt herself shrinking inward, pulling her leg closer to her body until he was kneeling in front of her. The pungent smell of his smoke followed him, filling the space around them. Her eyes were focused on him expectantly, waiting for his next move.

And then, without warning, she felt the searing sensation of a lit cigar pressed into her leg. It was important to understand this was not a particularly new sensation; as Chrys’s kinks went, burning was almost on the tame side. Adrenaline was pumping through her, making it easier to handle the pain, but she still let out a less-than-appropriate whimper. The actual shout came from the man behind her in his deep, distinct voice.

Poseidon was curious. It was a start. He was not convinced, because he was well-aware of the ways a human could parade as a mutant. He mentioned M, (main export of the defunct Order, production ceased, limited availability, unrealistic option,) as well as Ambrosia, (notable export of “The Syndicate” and the man threatening her life, continued production, great potential for filling consumer demand, promising from a business standpoint.) He intended to confine her to make sure her story and identity held water, (to excuse the pun,) and Chrys was not going to argue. Being away from her company for a day would be a problem, but the Board had dealt with her occasional unexpected absences before. Objections would make her appear more suspicious and difficult. She did not need to present herself as either of those traits.

She had his interest. He would not go through the effort of containing her if he planned on killing her either way. The gamemaster would take a step down and play his game, because the man was no mere game piece.

As the guards grabbed her (carefully) by the arms, Chrys could not keep herself from grinning. She was being granted her second wind. ”Will this be one of those dull ‘strap me to the bed’ things? Or can I count on a visit from the big man?” She rolled her neck to gesture at the man she was still connected to (for the moment.) ”Twenty-four hours is a long time; a girl can get bored all by her lonesome.” Yes, Chrys was feeling a return to form coming on.

Twenty four hours was a lot longer than some people figured it would be. They go through, each day of their life, never once paying attention to how slow or fast the day actually goes. Of course, with enough distractions, the day goes by very fast. However, when there is nothing to do, just laying around, strapped to a bed, under constant surveillance, the day can go by extremely slowly. Such isolation can cause desperation, anxiety, and start increasing the cracks in one’s mind. That was why these rooms existed in the lower levels of the Atlantis Club, hidden away from the prying eyes of everyday men and women. It was here where special individuals were kept, usually to teach a lesson to.

These rooms were small, a cell really, possessing only a bed, a toilet, and a humming light embedded in the ceiling above, far out of reach of anyone who wanted to try to end their stay early. In an unseen corner, a pinhole camera was places, watching everything unfold in the room. Here the mind was put under constant bombardment: no sense of time, no movement, no privacy, it was easily one of the worst places in the complex. So many times people kept in these rooms could be found descending into piles of gibbering goo, willing to confess to anything just so that they could catch a whiff of fresh air.

Chrysanthemum Van Hart proved to be surprisingly resilient. Jorge wasn’t kidding when he said that she would spend twenty-four hours in here. On the dot, Jorge was marching down the cold hallways, listening to the sounds of others in their cells, crying, banging their heads against soft walls, or pleading. He ignored all of it as the only person he wanted to see was in the quietest cell.

He had gotten reports from staff that she didn’t move much and, as a matter of fact, actually seemed to be enjoying her time strapped to her bed. Duke admitted that he hadn’t felt anything since the cigar burn that Jorge had pressed into the woman’s skin, not even any abrasion from the straps around her wrists. Jorge nodded his head and stopped at the door. The window slid open and he smirked as he peered inside; Chrys was still there, strapped down.

A sadistic smirk pulled at his lips as he turned to his staff and nodded for them to unlock the door. They did so and a buzz and a click rang through the air, signifying that someone was about to enter the room. A second later, the door swung open and Jorge stepped instead, a wolf-like grin on his lips.

He was dressed far different today. Rather than just a pair of swim trucks, the imposing mob boss was now dressed in a fine suit of a deep, charcoal gray and a blood-red tie around his neck. As he stepped into the room, his hands clasped behind his back, he smiled sweetly as he approached the bed. There was Chrys, stretched out upon her back, wrists bound by handcuffs. Honestly the scene was probably more fitting for some kind of kink pornography, but that was not the reason for Jorge’s visit.

Standing by the side of the bed, he grinned at the young woman for a second before he stepped aaway, grabbed a chair and pulled it close to the side. Once there, he undid the button of his jacket and sat down next to her. He then leaned over the woman’s restrained body and looked into her eyes.

”Good day, Ms. Va Hart,” he smiled cheerily. ”And how are we today?”

Twenty-four hours was a particularly long time to do nothing. Realistically, confined and not able to move, the most she sleep through was roughly half that time if she was dead tired. Chrys might have caught eight hours—nine max. That left her with two-thirds of a day bound to a bed.

On paper, that sounded like an enjoyable day, but no one was coming to prod at her or score her flesh or even drop hot wax on her. Whether Poseidon knew it or not, he had picked the one form of torture Chrys could not stand: isolation. She was not going to lose her mind; she got very good at conversing with herself when she was at the asylum. It was simply frustrating to be completely ignored and abandoned for the day.

She spent part of her day struggling against her bindings, not in an effort to escape, but instead to create friction against her skin. Bruises, abrasions and cuts were the goal. With no one else around, she was suffering from a distinct lack of sensation. Even her burn mark had stopped stinging, and was beginning a healing process that should cause it to fade over a week or two. With no one coming around, she had to find ways to entertain herself.

Someone eventually came into the room, but the visit was brief. There were two people: one who held her down and one who extracted her blood. It made sense; Poseidon was checking her blood for mutation-simulating drugs. She allowed her blood to be drawn without a fight because she knew it would benefit her case in the long run. She did try to strike up conversation with the visitors, but they treated her with silence and left once their task was over. Chrysanthemum pouted, sick of being ignored and wishing twenty-four hours would come to an end soon enough.

Eventually, the door swung open and Chrys prepared herself for more tests, only to find Poseidon in a sharp charcoal suit making his approach. Twenty-four hours were finally up. He had no reason to drop in otherwise.

Her captor took a seat next to her, asking about he was her doctor striking up conversation. She sighed, rolling her neck to loosen up the stiffness of her day. ”We are bored. Dreadfully bored. You couldn’t spare someone to rough me up? Even a little?” She forced a smile, because in truth, she was still annoyed at the callous way she had been treated, but making nice with Poseidon was more important than pouting. ”Pity.”

Chrysanthemum’s eyes drifted toward the door behind him. Would his security squad make a reappearance to take her away? It was still on the table, but if that was where things ended, what would be the point of keeping her trapped? She had to get to the point in the conversation where she knew for sure Poseidon believed her story. ”So did you find anything exciting in my blood? Or did you just take a vial to appreciate the lovely color?” It was one of the many aesthetical reasons Chrys enjoyed her playtime, after all.

The twenty-four hours was up and Jorge was actually a little excited to speak with the young woman again. She had surprisingly made a bit of an impression on him the night they met and now that her time in isolation was up, he was more than curious to talk to her. Of course in the time that she was away, with a full name and a purpose, he immediately sent River out on a fact finding mission on the other side. She had dug deep, creeping through public records, even private ones, that were available via the internet. Seeping in through every square inch of network that had the name Chrysanthemum Van Hart, his little techno-genius had managed to find every last bit of information that was available. It was enlightening, none the less.

She hid the fact that she was a mutant well. There was virtually nothing on the net about her, only a few scared eyewitnesses, but nothing that had ever been confirmed. The most intriguing was that by a young man who preferred to remain anonymous. Something about having been picked up by a mysterious brunette in a bar, drugged, and kept chained in her home. Chrysanthemum’s name was absent, but given locations offered, the time frame of events, River was ninety-five percent sure that the brunette in the story was a likely candidate for Chrys.

He imagined that, with a power like hers, no one would want to incur her wrath by speaking up; especially if they were fortunate enough to get away.

With said knowledge in hand, as well as confirmation from a blood test that there was no M or Ambrosia in her system, it was time for a face-to-face. Upon entering the room, Duke loomed outside of the doorway, his massive arms crossed over his chest. Jorge strolled in, looking quite dashing in his suit. As he pulled up a metal chair, he gave the young woman a smile as he sat down next to her, sighed, and asked how she was holding up; almost as if he were actually a concerned individual.

It probably would have sounded more sincere if he hadn’t been the one who actually put her in here.

>> ”We are bored. Dreadfully bored. You couldn’t spare someone to rough me up? Even a little? Pity.”

He grinned. It was a wide, sadistic grin, the kind that made the blood run cold if it were every offered in your direction. Truly the woman seemed to be a surprise. ”Now why would I have gone and done that?” he asked sweetly as he leaned in. His hand reached up, carefully brushing his index finger over her cheek. ”You’ve been such a good girl so far.”

Checking her bonds, he saw that she was indeed secure but also that there were some new abrasions upon her wrists. Apparently she had managed to injury herself over the course of her stay. Lifting one of her arms carefully, as far as the restraint would allow, he turned to Duke in the doorway. The dark skinned man arched a brow, looked down at his own wrists and inspected them closely. After a second, he shook his head. An interested sound from Jorge and he gently laid down the woman’s arm again.

>> ”So did you find anything exciting in my blood? Or did you just take a vial to appreciate the lovely color?”

”As a matter of fact, I did,” he grinned. ”It seems that you…” Reaching over, he carefully bopped her on the nose with his finger. ”Were telling the truth about your heritage. And, for that, I do express my apologies. You can understand my suspicion, however. I do have to protect my interests, at all costs, after all.” He gave her a well-meaning smile. ”And, if you were serious understand about a business arrangement of sorts, well, I’m sure I can work you into my busy schedule.” He gestured to her bonds. ”Unless, that is, you want to stay in this state?”

Even with her exhaustion and boredom, Chrysanthemum’s whining still managed to sound playful rather than childish. Poseidon was grinning, but the large security guard with many valid reasons to dislike her was standing in the doorway. She had come so far and had so much to lose, her life included, that she had to really stick the landing and sell herself perfectly. She wanted to return home and she did not want to do it empty-handed.

Poseidon caressed her cheek, and Chrys leaned into the touch, biting her lip. It was gentle, but it was still interpersonal contact. It was not going to satisfy her cravings, but it would wet her appetite for when (and if) she was released back into the world.

Chrys was not looking to waste time, so she asked about her blood test and Poseidon obliged her. He tapped her nose with his finger, which made her face scrunch up as a natural reaction. It was a positive booping because she was tested and deemed a right and proper mutant. She smiled proudly, glad to be validated by a man whose opinion mattered. He had to look out for his own interests, which made sense to Chrys, who had always considered her interests priority over anything else. ”Understandable. That’s just good business.”

With her identity confirmed, Poseidon seemed more open to the idea of working with Chrysanthemum Van Hart. She was sure she would still have to make up for her subterfuge and stalking, but he saw value in her regardless.

Poseidon gestured to the restraints and handcuffs keeping her bound to her bed, suggesting that they were ready to release her if she so wished. ”Well, I’m not often the woman to turn down time in a state like this—with attentive company, at least,” she corrected, reaffirming her distaste for being ignored, ”I do have a company to run. I suppose I can give up a little play if you’re interested in talking business, Mister Cervantes.” He knew she was stalking him, so there was no valid reason to keep his name to herself. They had to start an open, honest dialogue if they were going to work together, correct?

The woman was quite remarkable. Most people whom he visited here, immediately begged for mercy of some kind. To be released, to be allowed to see sunlight, or even just to die so that at least something happened. There were even times when Jorge had been alerted by staff that, somehow, a person had managed to successfully take their own life. It was a rare occurrence, surely, but it was enough to require the straps to be added into the rooms. Of course, there were those that didn’t have them, simply for the sake of making everything far neater.

But this woman, though she suffered, she did manage to find a way to survive. Maybe it was just those superior mutant genes, or maybe the woman was just crazed beyond belief, but either way, Jorge had been impressed with her. Sitting next to her, caressing her soft features, she leaned into his touch, a small bit given to her lip. She really was a vixen, wasn’t she? With a chuckle, the man sighed as he began to converse with her.

Really, what did she expect him to do? She snuck into his world, stalked him, gathered intel, and then tried to approach him with plans of joining up. How could he take any of that seriously? She possessed a haunting beauty about her, but at the same time her actions were quite deplorable. He didn’t reward people for collecting information about him, as a matter of fact, he actually punished someone for that very act not a month ago. Really her timing could not have been worse.

Still, with an apology on his lips and an explanation for his actions, they seemed to satisfy the doe-eyed woman.

>> ”Understandable. That’s just good business.”

He smirked. If strapping someone down for twenty-four hours was her definition of “good business”, then he was truly intrigued as to how she ran her affairs. Again, the woman just kept reveal one interesting layer after another. He was suddenly glad that his men had not put a bullet between her eyes.

With that out of the way, Jorge was now ready to speak with her. If she had business ventures (all of them already confirmed) then she could certainly be an asset to not only him, but to the Syndicate as well. She was a mutant in a place of power and, not only that, she would serve as an excellent footing to start moving his operation to the other world. Really the whole thing was kismet and Jorge was not a man to deny fate.

So, with an invitation to talk, and an offer to remove her bondage, Jorge smiled gently as he waited for her to make up her mind. She seemed to actually consider whether or not she wanted to be released, another hint as to the playful nature of this delightful creature, before she finally turned her eyes back onto him.

>> ”Well, I’m not often the woman to turn down time in a state like this—with attentive company, at least…I do have a company to run. I suppose I can give up a little play if you’re interested in talking business, Mister Cervantes.”

He grinned at her little jab about being ignored. It was clear that that was a sore spot for her but he wouldn’t begrudge her her annoyances. She did spend the last twenty-four hours tied to a bed in a lonely room. In such a scenario, attention would certainly be a requirement. With a hearty chuckle, the crime boss reached over and undid her bonds himself, carefully undoing the straps from her wrists, arms, and ankles, even helping her to move her limbs from their sore-inducing positions.

Carefully his large hands squeezed the blood flow back into her arms as he helped her to slowly sit up. Once she was upright, he continued to knead the flesh of her shoulders to push through the discomfort of reawakening nerves. ”Poor thing. You must be famished…” he eyed her. ”…and probably in need of the facilities.” He turned to his comrade. ”Duke. If you would be so kind as to take Ms. Van Hart someplace suitable to freshen up.” He grinned as he turned back to her, catching her gaze. ”We have a lot to discuss.”

It was good to see Poseidon smiling in her presence, directly as a result of her. He had smiled the night before, but it was an ominous smile filled with ill-intent. Chrysanthemum knew smiles like that all too well and being on the receiving end of one could make your skin crawl. His new smiles were still wicked, but there was something inviting there. Wicked could be fun when things were on better terms, and they were getting there.

Finally released from her bonds, Chrys rubbed her wrists and surveyed the marks left by her struggling. They were pretty but not serious; they would not last two days on her skin. She rotated her shoulder, trying to loosen up her limbs and improve her blood flow. A business negotiation was on the horizon and she needed to be in tip-top shape for it. Her host did his part to help, squeezing her arms and massaging her shoulders. He earned several satisfied ”Mmmm”s in response.

Poseidon clarified that she would have time to “freshen up” prior to their discussion and Chrys was not about to argue. No one was in great condition after a full day in bondage, and she had been left tied down in her bikini, the ends of her hair still wet from the tub. ”Lovely,” she replied, watching Duke with a mischievous smile as he received his orders. Chrys wondered how he felt about playing guide to the woman who made him shout in pain.

Realizing she was reclaiming a position of power (relative to Poseidon, of course,) she approached Duke and looped her arm around his elbow. His response was minimal, but negative. ”Oh, please do lead the way, Duke,” Chrys purred, before looking over her shoulder to Jorge. ”I will see you shortly, sir.” And with that, she was led away from her one-day prison.

---

It was an unparalleled feeling to take a shower and relieve certain “bodily needs” after being removed from them, even for a day. The only moment she anticipated more was satisfying her hunger (for food, probably,) but that would come during her meeting with Jorge. Chrys wanted to present herself properly, so she made sure to dry her hair, reapply makeup (provided by her host, of course,) and paint her lips in a blood-red that would match the tie her host was wearing.

After providing her measurements, a selection of dresses was brought to the room and Chrys was able to look each over. They were all expensive, fashionable, and revealing. Poseidon was offering a specific style and it fit perfectly in Chrys’s comfort zone. She picked a slinky blood-red number to coordinate with her lipstick and his tie. Red heels were provided, perfume was applied, and Duke was leading her away from the private changing room and into a new area of the club.

When asked for a name to the place, Duke muttered, “Pearl Lounge.” Chrysanthemum looked around, fascinated at the exotic club connected to Atlantis. She did not frequent the establishments because they often had strict “no touching” rules, but she respected them. Any den of sin and satisfaction was a worthwhile destination, in her opinion.

She was led to a hallway away from the main floor, lined with private rooms. Duke opened a door and led Chrys into a cozy, dimly lit room where Jorge was waiting. ”My apologies if I left you waiting.”

The Pearl Lounge was another of the amazing amenities offered by the Atlantis Club. While out in the main floor, people could dance, drink, eat, and be merry (all with an amazing view, of course), it was here that people came for a more…private experience. Already offering all forms of vice on the dance floor alone, the Lounge was dedicated to one thing and one thing only – lust. Yes, the sins of the flesh could certainly be a profitable business, so long as someone knew how to utilize it. And Jorge Cervantes certainly knew how to utilize it.

When compared to other sections of the club, of course the Pearl Lounge was one of the most profitable, even more so than Neptune’s Bounty, the casino that the club sported. It seemed that people were more willing to drop cash on the misguided idea that they could get some ass as opposed to trying to increasing their money. People really were rather silly but it was an ineptitude that Jorge was happy to take advantage of.

On this particular evening, the Lounge was already fairly busy. His top acts had taken to the stage and the entire room was deathly still with people with wide eyed and slackened jaws. It was such a lovely sight to behold. But as much as he wanted to offer his girls the encouragement of watching them perform, he had other, more pressing matters to attend to.

In one of the private rooms along the club, Jorge stood in wait, his arms clasp behind his back as he peered out to a glowing porthole of blue. He watched the water as he surged around the club, and the various amounts of marine that swam past. He smirked a little, staring into the blue but seeing his own face reflected in the glass.

Behind him, on a small table there had been a rather elegant spread laid out. A pair of candles flickered and burned with orange light, illuminating the food that had been laid out. The variety of plates and dishes possessed all kinds of food, especially as he wasn’t sure what Ms. Van Hart preferred. Just to be safe, vegetarian, pescatarian, and everything in between was available to her. The one thing he would probably insist on, though, would be the caviar, as he bought from an especially excellent supplier.

Still in the same suit that he was before, charcoal gray with a tie as red as blood around his neck, the man sighed as he stared out of his window. His mind was already working with the information that he had on Ms. Van Hart. It was true that this partnership had amazing potential, but exactly how involved in Chrysanthemum want to be? Did she want to know the deepest secrets? Was she just looking for a foothold into this world as well? She was a mutant who seemingly despised humans (her father at least), so there was definitely potential there. However, he wouldn’t know until they actually had a frank conversation.

The door opened behind him and he smirked. Lifting his arm up, he checked the time and saw that they were only a few minutes late. It seemed that after spending twenty-four hours tied to a bed that Chrysanthemum rather enjoyed her moments of freshening up. Having heard no complaints from Duke (and nothing noted while under surveillance from River) Jorge didn’t hold it against the woman to take the chance to indulge herself. After all, this was still a trial run and, if he didn’t like what she had to say, it would wildly go south.

>> ”My apologies if I left you waiting.”

A grin still on his lips, the charismatic business turned, slowly, his dark eyes falling over her form. He took a second to look her over, not at all hiding the fact that he was doing so. His eyes roamed over the curves of her body, the blatant color of the dress that she had chosen, even the shade of the lipstick that she had chosen to apply. It was an appreciative look, something that he was sure that the attention-seeking woman would revel in.

”Somethings are worth waiting for,” he teased. He turned around fully now to face her, his hands still behind his back. ”Besides, I cleared my schedule for this. It is the least I could do considering how you spent the last twenty-four hours.” He approached, his eyes still locked onto hers. When he got close enough, he reached out, gently taking one of her hands and lifting it up so that he could kiss the knuckle. ”You do look ravishing, by the way. But…I’m certain that the meal before you probably looks moreso to your eyes.” He smirked as he released her hand and gestured to the table. ”Sit. Take what you will. It’s on the house.”

Chrysanthemum was unsure what she was expecting as she approached her meeting with Jorge. The thought still occurred to her that she might be walking into a trap, but it was a baseless paranoia. Logically, the easiest opportunity to dispose of her would have been during her time strapped to a bed, unable to resist. To go through the effort of releasing her, bathing her, dolling her up and dressing her just to torture and kill her… well, okay, it sounded like something Chrysanthemum would do. Still, she was an exception to the rule; Jorge seemed like a practical man.

Then again, walking through the exotic club, images of the man sitting atop a throne comprised of women bent to his will. It was still outlandish, but she could work with that. Honestly, she’d give the torture plan a shot if there was food.

Fortunately, as the door to Jorge’s backroom opened, Chrys was hit with the tantalizing scents of the spread of foods prepared for their discussion. The class and selection of the meal boded well; Chrys held her business partners to a higher standard of life, not interested in partnering with riffraff. Jorge was decidedly not riffraff, much to her pleasure.

Of course, class and means did not mean Chrys needed everything to be proper and professional, and the way Jorge looked at her filled her need for a more casual, uninhibited atmosphere between the two. If he locked her away without touch and attention for a day to make her more appreciative, it was a smart play. A tingling sensation trailed across whatever skin his eyes scanned wickedly.

Chrys had earned enough respect for the businessman to greet her with a cordial kiss on the hand. The gesture even came with a compliment, which was received with a wide smile. The man knew the right things to say. He even showcased the dinner, which was the true star of the evening, regardless of how stunning she looked in her dress.

When he rose from kissing her knuckles, she replied with formal kisses on either cheek. She felt his stubble scratching against her cheek. ”Thank you very much, sir. My time alone has truly left me quite… insatiable.” The tone of her last word banished any remaining subtlety from her not-so-hidden meaning.

Taking a seat, Chrys made herself a plate to feed her very real non-sexual hunger. She was almost salivating as she grabbed stuffed lobster tail, filet mignon, and braised leeks, along with a generous serving of caviar at the suggestion of her host. The wine he poured was an excellent vintage and she had to take a sip before she took a bite of her meal so she could enjoy it with a clean palate. ”Excellent. Aromatic. Oaky, with hints of black cherry and an exquisite finish. You’re a man of good taste, Mister Cervantes.” He was making that abundantly clear.

Once she had a few bites of savory, satisfying food in her, Chrys felt more comfortable bringing business into their conversation. ”I am thoroughly impressed with your organization. Entertainment, community outreach.” Not all his outreach was friendly, of course. ”And from what I have learned, you have quite the product on your hands.” Working in important and exporting goods, she wanted to waste no time getting to her primary benefit as a business partner.

>> ”Thank you very much, sir. My time alone has truly left me quite… insatiable.”

The smirked that crossed his lips was one that knowing and pleased. The woman truly knew what things to say to inflame the fire in the pit of every man. Though Jorge was still the one in control here, he had to hand it to her, if he had been a weaker individual, he was certain that he would have been groveling at her feet the second she joined him in the spa. But Jorge was not a weak man, and he would never allow himself to be, no matter how pretty the face. Chrysanthemum was a beautiful, educated, and powerful woman, but this wasn’t a power play she would ever win.

Still, he would be rude if he didn’t at least give her the faintest hint of a smile. He could only imagine how an individual such as her would have made it through the ordeal that he had put her through. Lashed down to a bed, alone with the only human contact coming hours later where her blood had been drawn and taken without a word. She was someone who enjoyed attention but the fact that she made it through in the end, unscathed, seemed to be a testament to her willpower.

With a wave of his hand, the crime boss gestured to the table with all the food laid out for her. He made sure to order a plethora of options, as he didn’t know the woman’s diet. Surely there would be something to entice her taste buds. She apparently didn’t need more prompting than that as she immediately sat down and started to gather portions onto a fine plate of china. Of course, that was set aside, though, as a wine would be the first of the items she would sample.

Taking up a glass himself, Jorge claimed a seat across from the woman, choosing to not partake in the food as it had been prepared for her. Once seated, he quietly cross his leg, swirling the wine in his glass as he watched the woman across the way, awaiting her judgement.

>> ”Excellent. Aromatic. Oaky, with hints of black cherry and an exquisite finish. You’re a man of good taste, Mister Cervantes.”

He dipped his head while lifting his glass towards her. ”It would be a crime to own such an establishment if I didn’t, don’t you think?” He smirked before he took a sip of his drink.

Jorge draped himself in silence as he watched Chrys dig into the meal that was provided. Not wanting to be rude, he reached over, grabbing a few grapes from the vine and chewed on them. This was Chrys meal, after all, and the last thing he wanted was to intrude on it, especially when she was so famished after her long day.

>> ”I am thoroughly impressed with your organization. Entertainment, community outreach…And from what I have learned, you have quite the product on your hands.”

She clearly had done her research. Again, he didn’t appreciate the stalking aspect but she really had been thorough. Just all the more reason to be impressed with her. With a nod, he took another sip of his wine before setting it down upon the table between them. This was a business meeting and, as entertaining as it was to be flirtatious with the woman, there was a reason beyond the physical that they were sitting in this room together.

”It is fairly popular,” he mentioned. Though neither of them mentioned exactly what this product was, it was clear that they both knew they were talking about the same thing. Ambrosia was the gift of the gods, given to humans so that they could feel special for a day. The addictive quality was enough that Jorge had been able to create his empire. It was a cornerstone and the first step towards moving into the next world. ”You said you had a business arrangement in mind,” he started. He watched her closely. ”Does it involve said product?”

Chrys was not dumb; if her sex appeal could help her during a business negotiation, she would use that to her advantage, (tastefully when necessary.) She had no doubt Jorge appreciated her beauty. She had also learned that Jorge was not like some of the cavemen she dealt with, crumbling at exposed skin. He held leverage on multiple levels: she was the one to seek him out and he knew it, he had home-field advantage, and he had spent over a full day doing everything to assert control in their budding professional relationship. She was the one who had to win him over, but at least he was proving to be tentatively receptive.

It was usually a faux pas to eat when a dining partner was not, but Chrysanthemum had no choice. Her plate was filled with savory, decadent flavors and her stomach was in desperate need of nourishment. Jorge was the one to offer the meal, after all, so it would have been rude to refuse.

If they were going to talk business, Chrysanthemum wanted to waste no time getting to Jorge’s product. Neither of them were using names, but they were talking about his Ambrosia. For all intents and purposes, it seemed synonymous with the defunct M Drug, which had a lucrative run on their side of the rift. It was time for Chrys to make herself useful. ”The product, as you’re aware, had its own cross-dimensional ‘doppelganger,’ so to speak. Without that poseur product on the market, there’s already demand in our New York. I have contact with ‘suppliers’ on all levels and could handle distribution in your brave new world.”

Chrysanthemum took another sip of her wine, making sure her lips were moistened enough to continue with her pitch. ”Of course, if that was all I could offer, this would be a boring conversation. I’m sure you’ve done your own research on me by now,” she said confidently. A man like Jorge was not going to walk into their meeting unprepared when he had a whole day to study up. ”My company specializes in the import and export of goods both nationally and internationally. New York has a primed market, but it’s just one city. With my assistance, you would have the chance to expand your operation globally. Just on a different globe.”

It was her best offer: an increased radius of influence. If Jorge liked control, she could give him that. Ambrosia was just the first step, but it would be a lucrative, powerful first step.

After chewing and swallowing a bite of her absolutely divine filet mignon, she added as a secondary note, ”We also have real estate contacts. I can work on my end to secure a location for an Atlantis in my universe.” She glanced up from her plate, grinning. ”After all, if you’re going to rule a world, you are going to want a place to look over your kingdom in style.”

Jorge played his cards close to his chest. His expression was nothing save for a slightly amused smile as he watched the woman consume the best that he had to offer her. After all, if this was to be a partnership, and given the last twenty-four hours, he wanted to ensure that she was well-treated now -- unless, of course, she really didn’t have anything to offer him. Her company, though, her wealth, and her status in the other world were indeed tempting bait for the crime lord to consider. But would she be genuine in her want to see mutants succeed, or was it simply a trap by some otherworldly government?

Only hinting as to the “product” that Chrysanthemum referred to, Jorge allowed the woman to glean his true meaning. Sitting back in his chair, he carefully took another sip of wine as he observed her consider his words. Seeing no reason to hide things more than she had to, Chrys went into a very earnest explanation as to what she could provide…

>> ”The product, as you’re aware, had its own cross-dimensional ‘doppelganger,’ so to speak. Without that poseur product on the market, there’s already demand in our New York. I have contact with ‘suppliers’ on all levels and could handle distribution in your brave new world.”

He gave nothing away. Watching, the wheels in his head were turning as he listened to her make her case. It was true, he knew that the other world had a product similar to his own, but the keyword was “had”. M was in short supply now that the world’s mysterious manufacturer had stopped production. Cheap knock-offs now spilled into the streets, inferior products that in no way possessed the same oomph that Ambrosia did. Clearly there was a demand and with the empty space left behind by its absence, there was an easy market for the Syndicate to set up shop.

>>”Of course, if that was all I could offer, this would be a boring conversation. I’m sure you’ve done your own research on me by now…My company specializes in the import and export of goods both nationally and internationally. New York has a primed market, but it’s just one city. With my assistance, you would have the chance to expand your operation globally. Just on a different globe...We also have real estate contacts. I can work on my end to secure a location for an Atlantis in my universe…After all, if you’re going to rule a world, you are going to want a place to look over your kingdom in style.”

His eyes were set firmly on the woman. Taking another grape into his mouth, he bit into it, causing the juices to burst around his tongue before slinking down his throat. Chewing thoughtfully, he considered everything that the woman had said. It was true, given her time in bondage, he had indeed done his research on her, learned everything that he could about the mysterious stalker who had attempted to get close to him. And his findings had been more than fruitful.

Chrysanthemum was exactly what she proclaimed the be. The CEO of a powerful company, the daughter of a twisted and cruel man who cared only about his business. When the man died, ownership shifted over to Chrys who, to put it lightly, others didn’t want in the pilot’s seat of such a powerful organization. Still, she managed to force her through her barriers until she had achieved her station. It was a tenuous hold, though, it always was in big business. There would always be those who seek to knock her off her gilded chair. As a matter of fact, one of those individuals would have probably been Jorge if they hadn’t crossed paths.

Still, her idea was interesting, about going global. Jorge had wanted to extend his reach that fair out but with SUPER at his doorstep, it wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Ah, but in another world where SUPER didn’t exist, he could sink the roots of his organization deep into the very earth, so deep that no amount of SUPER carpet bombing would be able to rip out the roots. Honestly, he liked it and, if Chrystanthemum and her company could help, he certainly would have to take it under consideration.

”Interesting…” he finally said, as he gave her a sly grin, his eyes alit with mischief but contained in them the gleam of an intelligent man...and a dangerous one. ”It seems that you certainly can provide a use.” He then sighed. ”However, as we are both business minded, I have to ask…” he gave her a long look before continuing. ”...no one gives away their world for free. What is it that you want in return?”