Strict orders were given. Watch the b****. Watch her kid. If either of them got too brave, or if word came down from Poseidon to commit the cruelest cut to the shadow-bending thief, then so be it. Really, he didn’t have a problem with that. Derek Dupont didn’t care one lick about the woman that he spied at through the scope of his sniper rifle, nor did he care about the little brat. All that mattered to him was following orders -- and the occasional moment when Stephanie would forget to clothes the curtains before changing. He could always tell Poseidon that her closing the blinds at all made his job more difficult, but he wasn’t that brave yet.

In the meantime, he would just enjoy the glimpses he received as the brunette absentmindedly moved throughout her apartment. She should soon receive another package from Poseidon: a slinky and most demeaning dress that she had to wear. Some bigwig with carnal desires was coming into town and Poseidon had promised the man, and all his lecherous cravings, a weekend of debauchery he’d never forget. Derek smirked. He could only imagine the variety of compromising positions Stephanie would have to under take.

And imagine he would. Later. When he was off his shift.

Though it wasn’t any business of his, sometimes Derek wondered exactly what the woman did to be cast into such a position as Poseidon’s bargaining chip. Though he didn’t question his orders, he couldn’t help but wonder, from time to time. Stephanie was firmly under Poseidon’s thumb, her daughter was being used as leverage. Poseidon could be the cruelest of men but why he would zero in on this woman so completely was cause for speculation. But Derek, again, wouldn’t devote all that much brain power to it. Rather he would do his job.

In the building across from Stephanie’s, he sat at a window, completely obscured in the darkness. This was the usual perch for some of the guards that had been placed on the woman. Others were in other buildings, some at her workplace, some even in her building. Shifts constantly rotated and changed, making sure that the woman could never catch on to who was watching her and when. She just needed to know that there were eyes on her, always.

Pulling up a canister from the floor, Derek sighed as he unscrewed the top and took a long swig of the alcohol-laced coffee within. With a sigh of satisfaction, he returned it to it’s dusty place on the ground, picked up his rifle and peered through the scope. He grinned as he watched Stephanie head to the door upon hearing the knock. The delivery guy was here. Watching the curt exchange as the man delivered the package to the shadow thief, Derek sighed and just about returned his rifle to his side when something sharp suddenly dug into his neck.

”Argh!” he grunted in annoyance. And yet, as soon as he felt the sharpness penetrate his skin, it was gone. Soon after, something else began to occupy his mind.

Looking down at his hands, Derek shook his head, staring and staring, looking at his skin, the tiny hairs, and the pores. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he knew something was wrong. Calmly he pulled a knife from his boot and gently poked the skin. It didn’t look right, did it? Something was off about it. Like he wasn’t actually wearing his own skin, but someone else’s was vacuum formed over his own. Well, that wasn’t going to do, was it? It was itchy and uncomfortable and if he was going to have a long shift then he was going to need to be comfortable, right? Poseidon would forgive him if he took a moment to ensure optimal work environment. Of course he would!

Standing up from his seat, Derek moved to a corner of the room and began to pulled off his clothing, leaving them crumpled nearby on the floor. They would need a good dusty when he was done. Once his clothes were secure, he pulled his knife once again, lifted his arm, and held the point to his forearm. It was time to make himself comfortable.

***

She ignored the sounds of the man in the corner. The sound of metal and peeling were not enough to distract her from her goal. Standing in the window, a curvaceous, older woman of fifty stared down into the apartment of the woman that had been Derek’s subject. She was dressed rather elegantly, in a black business suit of the highest quality. It conveyed power, wealth, and yet still was curve hugging enough to imbue those who observed her with the most lustful thoughts. Derek didn’t notice, though, as he was otherwise occupied standing in a grow pool of crimson ichor.

Picking up the rifle, the mystery woman briefly wiped blood from her lips, fangs retracting as she peered through the scope. There was her target, standing, holding a box. She watched her for a long moment. Her scrutinizing gaze swept over the natural, exotic beauty and she shuddered. Mm, she understood, in some respect, why Poseidon used her in the manner he did. Another moment and she set the rifle down just in time to hear a thud from across the room.

Hrm. Looks like Derek was done now, lying prone on the ground, a grisly horror that would surely set the newspapers ablaze with questions. But that wasn’t her concern. Turning she moved out of the room. It was time to introduce herself to Poseidon’s last victim.

Stephanie was miserable. With his recent surge in power and control, it was like Poseidon was finally taking off the gloves with his favorite pet. She used to wonder why he never did more than leer lustily and occasionally grope and caress her. When she was tasked to kill Honey, as she suffered the emotional repercussions, it finally became obvious: Her body, as sexy as it was, could only provide him with as much pleasure as some of his other conquests. The true pleasure he derived from her came from breaking her down and watching as she followed orders and lost pieces of herself. He reveled in her soul breaking apart and withering away.

Honestly, after making her a killer, it seemed like he was ready to just make clear that her morals and comfort limits were no longer a concern. He had some dominatrix client he had forced her to “work with” in the past, but something about those interactions felt more like part of the game, and at least more professional. Now, the pretense was dropping and he was going to whore her out.

She knew the package was arriving at some point in the afternoon, so when the bell rang, she turned to Malia, who was playing on the living room floor with a monster truck and a doll. She was going to be an interesting girl, that one. ”Sweetie, have you cleaned your room and made your bed yet?”

Malia pouted, but they both knew she had not. She walked away, giving Steph the chance to answer the door in private. The courier was one she recognized; she was certain he was under the employ of Poseidon too; why use a third party when everyone bowed to your whims?

She accepted the box half-heartedly and closed the door, looking at the plain parcel. She sighed, not wanting to open it any sooner than she had to; she could only imagine what he had her wearing for an appointment like this.

”This fresh hell never ends,” she muttered, wondering how much longer she could take this before she finally broke.

Idris Camacho didn’t care for his job. The dress salon he worked at tended to be full of uppity, snooty people who could afford anything they wanted and looked down upon him with disdain whenever he so much as breathed in their direction. They were ***holes who reveled in being ***holes.The kind of people born into privilege and thus had no sense of how to be a regular human being. But when the meeting with the mystery man came, Idris really thought his life was going to start turning around.

Big wads of cash to deliver a few dresses to the same woman? How could he possibly say no to that? Before long, Idris began to look forward to hearing from his benefactor. He never wanted to be a delivery person but in these instances, with more money than he knew what to do with, Idris was happy to do it.

Today was another such encounter. The call came in, a dress was selected, and Idris saw the money appear in his account. Without waiting for the okay from his manager he stepped out to make the delivery. It definitely wasn’t a bad gig, especially considering the woman he delivered to. She so was gorgeous. Sure she had the same cold demeanor as most of the clients he dealt with, but so what? At least he was being paid appropriately. And whomever this Stephanie was, at least she had a pretty great *** for him to gawk at as she walked away.

Now that he was done, Idris was considering calling out for the rest of the day, after contact his benefactor, of course, to say the delivery was made. A group of his friends were planning a trip across the rip. Why not? He had more than enough money to make the trip an amazing one. But just as Idris nodded to the a man sitting in a parked car on the curb, he stopped when a harsh “Pssst!” was shot his way. He turned back noting the same man in the car was turned to face him. What did he want?

“Um...yes? Something wrong?” he inquired.

The man said nothing but continued to stare at him. What was his problem? Irritated, Idris advanced, holding open his arm in challenge. Still the man didn’t move. Idris kicked the car, shout an obscenity, then noticed something...odd. He leaned in peering at the man who was still just staring. What was he staring? Then he saw it: he broken vertebrae jabbing against his skin, the lines of blood from puncture wounds on his neck, and, of course, the glassy, blank look in his eyes. This man was dead.

“Oh sh*t!!” Idris hopped back. What the hell? Immediately he reached for his phone but as he pulled it out, he felt a sharp bite against his neck. The signal tore through his body to reach up and slap the bug away but as soon as he had it, it vanished. Why was his arm raised?

He arched his brow, looking at his arm curiously. His eyes ran up the length of his arm and to the...thing he held in his hand. It was glowing with light. Was it a mini TV? Cautiously he tapped it and when the screen changed, he jumped, dropping the object to the ground. Turning to look down the street, Idris began to wonder, where was he? He didn’t recognize this street or these buildings. He began to walk and suddenly, he wasn’t aware of what city he was in. Another step and the towering structures around him didn’t look like anything he could recognize. Panic set in. He started to run. Then he forgot how legs worked. What were those appendages with the funny digits attached to him? He flailed and wanted to scream but how does one even scream? What is a scream? In sheer panic the man who forgot his own name ran into traffic and was plowed down by something he couldn’t even fathom the concept of.

And that was how Idris Camacho, or someone who used to be named Idris Camacho, died in confusion on a cold, asphalt street.

***

In the darkness of an alley, not far from where a man had a mental breakdown, forgetting everything about who and what he was, there stood a shadowy, female figure. The older woman, with her raven black hair sighed, raising up a finger and wiping away a few droplets of crimson blood from her lips. Idly she the liquid from her flesh and sighed. Really tonight was proving to be eventful. A flash of a mirror and she checked herself in a compact to ensure she looked presentable. Afterwards she stepped out of the alley, turned, and made her way into the apartment building. It was time to lay some fears to rest.

Moment later the brunette glanced down at the phone in her hand and matched the apartment numbers. With a smirk she smoothed down the edges of her expensive suit and knocked, firmly on the door. There, hand on her hip, she waited as she continued to look through the phone she had received through less than pleasant means. When the door finally opened she lifted her eyes and smiled.

Upon looking out, the occupant would see a caramel skinned beauty with raven-black hair, ruby lips, and dressed in an expensive pantsuit that still managed to hug her curves most deliciously. An air of utmost confidence exuded off the older woman’s smaller, well-fit form. Clearly she was someone who carried with her considerable power and wealth. And yet, here she was, in this modest apartment, meeting a complete stranger. But she wouldn’t keep the mystery for long.

”Evening Ms. Graves!” Her voice was perky and yet tinged with something far more dangerous sounding. ”Might we chat?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She stepped forward, pushing the door open and walked in. She wasn’t giving her a choice.

The box the courier delivered was in Stephanie’s room now, where it would stay until she had to change into her costume as Poseidon’s whore-for-hire. It was open, because morbid curiosity won out. She was not surprised by what she saw, but that was only because it would have been hard to send her something more scandalous to wear without delivering an empty box to her apartment.

Malia was already changing into her pajamas for the night, kicking off the end-of-night rituals. The little girl would change and brush her teeth before the babysitter arrived. She would get a story from mommy and then Stephanie would go off to change for the night as well. She would leave her apartment, ignoring the suspicious looks from the babysitter, and find her way to her latest degradation.

Everything was running on schedule, but the knock at the door came earlier than she expected. Her babysitter was a good young woman, but she was rarely early. Steph walked to the door and opened it. ”Thanks for coming on short notice again, but I…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked at the woman in her doorway. She certainly was not the pale blonde high school senior Stephanie expected. Instead, her slate grey eyes met a dignified and beautiful woman with tan skin, an amazing body, and an air of confidence Steph could almost feel.

She introduced herself and walked into the apartment, apparently owning that confident air. Stephanie was incredulous. ”Um, I’m so sorry, but who are you?” She was confused an annoyed, but then a third emotion hit her: concern. ”W-who sent you?” Was she one of Poseidon’s? Did her jobs come with escorts and chaperones now? Another aspect of her life where she was watched and had no control or free will?

>>”Thanks for coming on short notice again, but I…”

The woman smiled the broadest of smiles as the door was opened and she looked over the curvaceous beauty on the other side. In all honesty if time had been prepared, she would have rather enjoyed taking a few moments to appease any carnal desires she had but time was the one luxury that she couldn’t afford. She was breaking apart Poseidon’s operation piece by every little piece. She had to stay focus. Still, with a single glance, she was quickly calculated exactly how much spare time she had.

Finally, choosing against it, she sighed and let herself in, a confident stride carrying her into the room. Her dark, appraising eyes looked over the interior of the thief’s home, taking note of cheap knock-offs and disgusting familial knick-knacks before her gaze fell solidly onto Stephanie. Another look over her, a small bite of her lip, and she raised her eyes to meet her’s. She guessed it was only appropriate to look her in the face when speaking to her.

>> ”Um, I’m so sorry, but who are you? W-who sent you?”

A venomous smile on her lips and the woman merely shook her head. ”I’m your personal Jesus Christ, mi princesa,” she coyly replied, her heavy spanish accent ringing in her words. She advanced on Stephanie, her eyes in no way hiding exactly what lustful thoughts danced inside of her mind. Standing before her, she sighed as she reached her, her hand slipping into the thief’s. But rather than take her hand, the woman simply left something in it -- a USB.

She wrinkled her nose towards Stephanie before she broke away, sighing as she began to look throughout the room, picking things up, inspecting them, and placing them back with disdain. Quietly she mumbled to herself, muttering things like “worthless” or “cheap” or just giggling sarcastically. But, before long, and remembering her purpose, she turned back to Stephanie, holding a framed picture of the woman’s adorable daughter.

”Aww, she’s precious.” she said with a smirked, her fingers stroking the cheek of the photography. ”I can see why Poseidon has planned to take her to the other side of the rift and leave you for dead in a ditch.” She lifted her innocent gaze to the woman, snapping her fingers in faux-disappointment. ”Damn my loose lips.”

She was clearing playing a game and thoroughly enjoying it. A glance at the woman showed just how absolute the control was that the crime lord had over her. Any other mother would have probably taken a swing at her by now, which was of course unadvisable. Still, it would have been warranted. So before Stephanie descended into shouts and screams, she grinned.

”Of course...plans can change…” Coyly she whispered. ”Do you want out?” She finally asked flatly. ”Or do you enjoy your body being rented out like a cheap bounce house for his purposes?” An innocent shrug. ”No judgement, if that’s what you’re into.”

Stephanie noticed how the woman at the door looked at her because she always noticed the way people looked at her. It was a look more men gave her, but it was an unmistakable hungry look. Stephanie did not receive unexpected visitors; that was what a doorman was for. If this woman got in, Stephanie assumed she was tied to Poseidon, and that made her apprehensive.

Apprehension became confusion as the gorgeous older woman claimed to be Stephanie’s savior and closed the distance between them. Steph was too caught off guard to switch into shadowform, but the woman just took Steph’s hand and left her something. The contact sent a wave of goosebumps up Steph’s bare arms. She looked down to see the USB she was inexplicably given.

While Stephanie was trying to connect dots in her head with speculation, the woman was wandering the living room. The thief broke out of her thoughts when the woman commented on a picture of Norah. Instinctively, Steph tensed up, all too used to Norah being used as a bargaining chip for threats against her. She froze when the woman shared Poseidon’s purported plan. Was it something Poseidon would do? Of course it was; why should that be a surprise? The real question was why the woman was sharing these details.

And what power did she wield that she offered Stephanie a way out? It was the kind of offer Steph never believed she would get. ”Who are you, really?” She was caught between suspicious and incredulous. ”How can you just assure my freedom, knowing who has me under his thumb? How do I know this isn’t just some big test and he’s not watching somewhere, waiting to see if I make the wrong choice?” After everything she had endured, it was only fair for Stephanie to think an offer like this was too good to be true.

Oh this was fun but it was really time to get the ball rolling. As much as she enjoyed pawing at the mouse, there was no time for it (unless she decided to make time). She turned and watched the thief, her body language conveying both importance and power. Her hand lifted from her hip as she tilted her head, waiting for Stephanie’s response. Maybe dear Poseidon had already broken her. Maybe all the fight was gone and all she wanted to do was whatever her master commanded her to. It was a lovely thing to witness, of course, but there was a timetable to keep here.

Thankfully it wasn’t complacency that kept Stephanie quiet, but suspicion. She continued to eye her, her mind flashing with a multitude of conspiracy-filled thoughts. Oh the ocean god must have certainly worked a number on her. That was one thing she had to admire about the man, he knew how to get things done. The problem was, he never could carry them far enough. That was why she clearly needed to be here.

>>”Who are you, really? How can you just assure my freedom, knowing who has me under his thumb? How do I know this isn’t just some big test and he’s not watching somewhere, waiting to see if I make the wrong choice?

She smiled condescendingly. ”Oooo so, so precious and paranoid. And here I thought you’d be bending over...” a pause. ”...in thanks.”

Of course she understood but it was too much fun playing with this little harlot to give her any real feelings of sympathy. Still, as much as she wanted to prolong it, she couldn’t. So, instead, she would give her a few moments before she took a breath, turned, and ceased her pacing to face her.

”That USB…” she said, wrapping her arms around her back and effectively pushing her ample chest out further. ”...is everything that Poseidon has on you. Records, addresses, phone numbers, next of kin, even your first gynecologist, he’s thorough.” She continued and began to move around the room, again picking up random knick knacks and avoiding the all-together painfully cheap ones. ”An acquaintance of mind snuck into the Syndicate’s systems and retrieved it, as well as deleting absolutely every mention of your name or anything associated with you. But, of course, the problem is, that you are still in New York.”

She pulled her phone out, a burner by the looks of it. A few taps and swipes as she strolled up to Stephanie’s side, she wrapped one elegant around around her and held the phone up with her other for Stephanie to see. It looked like a banking app in Swedish. On the screen was a fairly hefty sum of over one hundred grand, and the name attached was Natasha Halladay. Handing the phone to Stephanie, the woman also handed her an excellent forgery of an I.D. card with the same name on it -- as well as Stephanie’s face.

”I’m offering you a way out,” she said soothingly, her hand stroking up and down her back. ”A chance at a new life. Take your info, take the money, take the identity, take your daughter and just...go, mi ángel.” She stepped back, leaving Stephanie with the items. ”Here’s the truth. The men who were watching this building, their dead. All of them.” She glanced at her nails. ”Killed them myself. However this won’t be hidden from Poseidon for long.” She glanced at her watch now. ”Check-in will be in thirty minutes. If he doesn’t hear from them, I’m afraid your window of opportunity will dry up like a pool of piss in the sun. And trust me…if you think this living situation was bad…” she smirked. ”...he’ll make sure you won’t even get to see the light of day again.”

Moving over to a chair, she sighed as she bent down, her curves straining against her outfit as she sat and then reclined back. The aura of this woman was just impossible to deny. She carried herself as one born and bred in royalty would. But her eyes never left Stephanie as she waited.

”As for who I am...it hardly matters. But, if curiosity must be sated, just know that I’m here to **** up dear. baby. brother’s. life.” A sickening grin swept over her lips. A beat. Then she lifted her wrist and tapped her watch. ”Tick tock, gorgeous. You’re running out of time.”

After being strung along and toyed with for so long, Stephanie was suspicious of any glimmer of hope, particularly when it was being handed to her by an unfamiliar figure. The world did not give you benevolent figures to come to you in your hour of need; hope was not something that sprang out of nowhere to save you. After so many life lessons reminding her that she was on her own, this woman’s offer was jarring.

Even if she did believe the offer, did she deserve it? She had sunk to such depths in Poseidon’s service. Offering herself. Taking life. Tainting her soul. Was freedom something she was entitled to?

Maybe or maybe not. It did not matter. She always said she made her choices to keep Malia safe. Malia deserved a happy, free life, and now she might have a chance at it. Even if the warning of Poseidon’s plans was not true, at any point, he could decide Stephanie was expendable and take Malia under his wing. She would not allow Malia to take her place under Poseidon’s thumb.

The woman was playing with Stephanie, making her saucy remarks, but her concern was less about Stephanie and more about punishing Poseidon. Her brother? Stephanie never knew Poseidon had family, but no one knew the details of that man’s life. What she did know was a man like Poseidon would have enemies. It would make sense that another member of his family would be just as ruthless. Sibling rivalries only escalated with power.

Stephanie looked over the forged documents offered to her, impressed with the quality. This woman knew what she was doing, and if this was a trap, it was an elaborate one. The woman was putting herself on display and in any other instance, Stephanie would be caught by her beauty, but the most appealing thing she now had to offer came as a USB and a forged identity.

There was a risk, but when would she ever find a possible way out less risky than this? Stephanie looked the woman in the eyes for several seconds before calling out. ”Sweetie, there’s been a change of plans. Mommy’s gonna come help you put clothes in the suitcase in your closet. We’re going on a trip.” The decision was made. She had to give herself the chance.

Stephanie stared at the woman for what she was sure would be the last time. ”I don’t know anything about you. You could be worse than him, for all I know. But if you are, it’ll help me sleep better at night to know you’re making him suffer. Thank you, and good luck, Miss.”