Rob B. Illion

I opened the Cronos. Half past twelve in the afternoon.

"How is she still asleep?" I muttered.

"There are many mysteries in this world, Sir," Secretary Coy answered while his eyes remained on the flood of emails on his tablet.

The leather of my chair groaned as I leaned back from my desk. I turned toward the wall-length window of the office and stared at the cityscape.

"Is she still alive?" I asked.

"Is there a reason she wouldn't be?"

I turned to face my work again. Documents lay piled across my glass desk — most of them caused by rival companies who have banded together. Complications, I preferred to call them.

"You seem concerned," Secretary Coy commented.

"At this rate, she'll sleep through tonight's task," I scoffed. "Enough is enough. I'm waking her up."

"As you wish, Sir."

I left my office and headed up the stairs toward the bedrooms. Black marble tiles, seamless gray walls, and slatted dark wood panels stretched throughout the penthouse.

I knocked on Miss Corday's door.

Silence followed.

"Miss, Corday, I am coming inside."

With no response yet again, I opened the door and carefully stepped through.

The curtains were drawn, and the room was too dark to see much. I stepped further in and the light from the door behind me revealed a scene of nightmares. What had been a perfectly tidy room just yesterday somehow turned into the aftermath of a battle. Pillows lay scattered across the floor... and the bed...

I never knew a person could find themselves so thoroughly tangled in bedsheets that they might not be able to free themselves.

"Miss Corday?"

I walked to her bedside and leaned closer, listening for any sign of life.

A faint murmur came from her lips.

Alive then, I thought.

I studied her sleeping form. Her brows were slightly furrowed and soft lips parted as if she were holding her breath. There was nothing remarkable about her, really. Just an ordinary face. Even with my sharp memory, I failed to recall her features after the company party.

And yet seeing her like this... I wondered what she was dreaming about. Why did a woman with so much arrogance show such a vulnerable face?

"Ghe-ow," she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

"Excuse me?"

"Ghet-owt."

"Miss Corday, it is very late already," I said, straightening up.

"Get out!" she ordered.

Unqualified in dealing with this nonsense, I walked over to the control pad on the wall and tapped it. The curtains slid open, letting sunlight flood the room.

"Gah! Take it back!" she squealed and buried herself deeper under the blankets.

Any resemblance of a woman with the world on her shoulders disappeared. What was I thinking? There was nothing but thievery and sleep on that one's mind.

"Lunch will be ready in the kitchen. I expect you to be dressed and presentable within the hour. We have much to discuss for tonight's task."

Incoherent grumbling followed.

I shook my head.

"If you are late, you can forget about any sort of freedom for the next year."

With that, I turned on my heel and left the enigma behind me.

The kitchen was a sleek blend of black granite and dark wood. Between the breakfast bar and the dining room, a serene open space was occupied by a vibrant orange tree, its bright green leaves catching the sunlight streaming in from a skylight above.

Sitting at the breakfast bar was Secretary Coy, his eyes never leaving his tablet.

"Alistair is back from his trip to Paris," he said.

"When?"

"Thirty minutes ago."

"Is there a reason the information is thirty minutes late?"

"Apologies," he looked up for the first time, adjusting his glasses. "Our spy seems to be missing a head."

I pulled a copper skillet from one of the push latch cupboards and sautéed some butter and garlic. With a nice sizzle, I added shrimp, tossing them until they turned pink.

"Send another," I said flatly.

"I'll have someone prepared by the end of the day."

Taking the skillet off the burner, I added seasoning.

"Do we know where Alistair plans to spend his night? I must thank him for that deal we lost with Mont Charles."

Secretary Coy angled his tablet, flipping through an album of surveillance photos.

"He spent every night with a different woman during his trip. Although being back home, I reckon we will find him tending to one of his businesses. The trick is pinning down which one."

Water boiled as the pasta cooked. I stared at the steam as though the answer lay within.

This was a rather tricky dilemma.

Alistair Chase's syndicate was known as The Four Suits. As the name suggested, he had his hands on four businesses. Half of which I would rather not get involved with.

"So, which is it?" I asked. "Clubs, spades, diamonds, or hearts?"

Secretary Coy tapped a finger on the side of his tablet, his lips pouted in thought.

"Clubs, I would bet," he concluded. "Though it's hard to be sure."

"You know I hate betting."

"I would wager my vacation days on it."

A smile nearly won me over. If he's betting his days off it must be all but guaranteed. I finished up with the pasta and tossed it together with the shrimp.

"That's perfect then," I said. "Perhaps we can make use of Alister's love of women. We'll get Miss Corday cleaned up and send her in as tonight's bait."

"There is a problem with that, Sir."

"What?"

Secretary Coy fiddled with his hands.

"Alister has a love of beautiful women."

I paused.

"She isn't... ugly."

"I didn't say she was, Sir."

I finished cooking and cleaned up the kitchen.

"I'm sure with professional help, she will do just fine."

"In a sea of already beautiful women — all with professional help to top it off, would she really stand out?"

I stared at the food.

"Hmm. That could be an issue," I agreed.

"You two calling me ugly?" a voice interjected.

I dropped the skillet in the dishwasher with a clang.

Secretary Coy and I both turned too fast toward the stairs to seem natural. I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt while Coy busied himself with his emails.

Miss Corday sauntered into the kitchen, sniffing the air. Though she was dressed in the clothes I set aside for her, her hair was still a mess, barely contained by a scrunchie.

"Quiet now, hmm?" she asked.

"You misunderstood us, Miss," Secretary Coy said.

She rounded the breakfast bar and inspected the food I prepared.

"This for me?" she asked while pointing at it.

"A reasonable portion, yes."

"Hm, 'kay."

She proceeded to rummage through every cupboard before finding the bowls and dishing herself more than I had intended to share.

"Any coffee?" she asked, poking around the kitchen like she owned the place. She opened the second fridge and stopped, her eyes widening. "What the hell's this? You running an orange juice empire?"

I closed the fridge filled with bottles of orange juice and gestured to the chairs.

"Please, do eat. I don't have coffee but there is water."

She grumbled something under her breath before plopping down next to Secretary Coy and devouring her lunch. My secretary eyed her warily as though she might try to take a bite of his tablet.

"What's up with the clothes in the closet?" she commented through mouthfuls. "They're all the same."

"Do finish chewing before speaking, Miss Corday."

"Sure thing, boss," she said with even more food in her mouth.

I sighed, rubbing at the creases in my brow.

"What you wear while staying here is not important," I said. "As long as it is to my standard. Clothes for tasks shall be provided for according to the nature of the task."

"And what if I wanna go out? People will think I'm cosplaying some sort of maid," she said with a gesture toward her attire. She wore a perfectly respectable black dress and white blouse.

"Nobody would notice, Miss Corday," I sighed.

"Right. I forgot I'm too ugly to pay any mind. That's what you two ladies were gossiping about anyway," she grumbled.

"We called you plain, not ugly," I clarified.

My secretary sent me a look I had seen all too much.

Was I too blunt?

I turned back and Miss Corday's face had turned several shades redder with her brows drawn and her cheeks puffed.

"I'll have you know that there is more to a woman than just a pretty face," she said in a restrained tone.

"Of course," I agreed. "Work ethic and productivity."

Her jaw set.

"Yes," she gritted out. "Work ethic. And it just so happens that I am a master at my craft. Just give me a target and location and the job's as good as done. I've seduced plenty of men with this face, thank you."

"Though I don't doubt your confidence," I replied coolly, "I'd prefer to increase the odds. We'll take you out and doll you up."

Her glare was something I wouldn't forget.

Restraining my smile, I motioned for Secretary Coy who presented a silver box from his pocket.

"What's this?" the woman asked.

"Before we take you out, we must give you a leash," I said.

"Huh?"

***

An hour later, the three of us stepped into a private boutique with a handful of security. Women's clothing lined ornate railings while gold mannequins displayed some of their latest collections.

"Was it really necessary to give me a collar?" Miss Corday asked while pulling at the black velvet choker around her neck.

I raised a brow.

"Would you rather I planted the tracker under your skin?"

"But I can't even take this thing off," she whined while fidgeting like a dog. "Do you really expect me to sleep with a choker?"

"Again, I can arrange for the tracker to change location."

"Oh, whatever." She waved me off and finally stopped fiddling.

A woman with a perfectly straight bob came to greet us.

"Welcome to La Dame D'or. We were expecting you, Mister Illion."

"Thank you for having us," I replied. "I would like to find a dress for my friend here. Something a bit revealing that would stand out."

The woman's eyes glinted as she smiled.

"I see you are the type to show off what is yours... Don't worry, Sir, I shall take good care of her." She then glanced at Miss Corday and that sparkle was gone. Her gaze stayed especially long on the woman's short legs. "I'm sure I can find something for her figure..."

She turned to scour the store.

I checked the time on the Cronos before turning to Miss Corday. I reckoned my little thief would be nervous in a place like this, but instead she looked like a fox inside a henhouse. She approached a dress with delicate gold buttons, fingers brushing the fabric.

Stepping up behind her, I leaned in close, my voice a low whisper against her ear.

"Only steal what I pay you to steal."

Instantly, the woman tensed and glared up at me. It was the first time she had properly met my eyes today and I couldn't help the curve in my lip as she tried to hide her shaking hands.

I remember having a pet hamster nearly twenty years ago who made just such a face.

"That wasn't in the deal," she grumbled.

"You clearly can't read contracts."

"And you clearly can't read a room."

She turned on her heel, following the lady to the dressing room as if she were walking into a battlefield. Her hands stayed pressed to her sides, betraying her nerves despite her quick retort.

I glanced at the dress, shaking my head at one of the missing buttons.

Sneaky little mouse, I thought.

"Taming this one will be hard," Secretary Coy said.

We moved toward the sofas while waiting.

"You mentioned you wanted a cat," I recalled. "Why not take Miss Corday instead? I'm not sure if keeping her at my residence is wise."

"She is no cat, Sir," he replied. "Cats are responsible with their freedom. They roam, but always return. This one will likely run the second she sees an open door. In this case, your residence is the perfect cage."

I nodded. I knew my secretary's apartment wouldn't do, but the thought of indefinitely living with this woman grated on me.

"Did I ever tell you I had a hamster as a child?"

"No, Sir."

"It was only briefly."

"What happened to it?"

"I left the cage open one day."

"Ah."

A staff lady came to offer drinks, but I raised my hand, and she left.

"It was a test, you see," I continued. "After spoiling the creature for weeks, I thought it would stay by my side. And yet... What a foolish little thing. Instead of a life of comfort it likely died hungry or in the belly of another."

The satin curtains of the dressing room swooshed as Miss Corday walked out.

I pressed a gloved finger to my mouth to suppress a laugh.

"Most suitable," I said.

The dress Miss Corday wore was short and covered in countless brown tassels much like fur. And the way her cheeks puffed, unimpressed, she indeed looked so much like my pet from all those years ago.

"I refuse to be seen in public with this," she said.

Though it was tempting, and she certainly would stand out, I waved a hand.

"Very well, next."

For half an hour, Secretary Coy and I discussed damage control over recent complications to Illion Industries while Miss Corday presented various dresses. After stepping out for the dozenth time, she finally made us quiet.

The woman wore a tight white dress with the faintest gold shimmer. The sleeves were separate from the dress, stretched over her arms like ballroom gloves that left her hands open.

"Perhaps with a pearl necklace," the staff lady suggested.

She wore the dress like she was made for it. Was this the same woman?

I had never paid much mind to women before, but for some reason I couldn't look away. Like watching a magician and trying desperately to find the trick behind their magic.

That's when I realized it.

Miss Corday was the perfect blank canvas... And all it took for art to appear was the right artist.

A dark thought flickered through my mind like lightning. What would she look like if I were to leave my mark upon her?

"It feels like a wedding after party dress," Miss Corday joked when nobody else said anything. She fiddled with her sleeves, her eyes wandering everywhere except toward me.

Realizing I was staring this whole time, I cleared my throat.

"It's perfect. We'll take it."

With attire for the night sorted, Miss Corday returned to her usual clothes, and we set off to the hair and beauty pallor next.

"Mister Illion! Welcome back," the beautician greeted. "If I knew you were coming sooner, I would've prepared accordingly."

"Wonderful to see you again, Missus Claremont."

She tilted her head at Miss Corday, her extravagant earrings dangling between locks of black curls.

"A different lady this time," she remarked. "What can I do for her?"

"We would like it if she could stand out," Secretary Coy said.

Missus Claremont pouted in consideration.

"This hair isn't doing anything for her. Can't pick between being brunette and blonde or curly and straight. A good way for her to stand out would be to dye it. Perhaps a vibrant red? Or a platinum blonde?"

"No," I said.

Everyone turned to me.

"Keep her as she is," I clarified stiffly. "Just enhance what is there."

Miss Corday gave me a look I couldn't decipher before the ladies whisked her away. It wasn't the usual glare or her forced defiance.

After both the hairdressing and the makeup team were through with my thief, she was perfectly presentable. Hair flowed down her back in neat waves while a light dust of gold glinted atop her eyelids.

"So? How do I look?" she asked.

I stilled as her pale green eyes slid over to me. Her lips pressed together so softly I shouldn't even have noticed. And yet it was all I could focus on.

Clearing my throat, I shifted my gaze elsewhere.

"It will do," I replied, keeping my tone deliberately flat.

As we sat in the car on our way home, she looked at me in that strange way again.

"Is something the matter?" I asked.

She parted her lips as if to speak but hesitated, letting the question die on her tongue. Instead, she put up a wry smile.

"If tonight's a success, what do I get as a reward?"

Her audacity almost made me laugh.

"Tonight's task will deduct a portion from your debt. There's no reward for doing your job properly."

"What if I exceed your expectations?"

"Very little exceeds my expectations, Miss Corday."

"I bet I could."

There it was — that insufferable, self-assured gleam in her eyes that made my blood stir in the worst of ways.

"Instead of talking about rewards, why don't we discuss punishments for failure?"

Her eyes went wide, and I smiled at the way all her arrogance flew right out the window. She turned to face away; her mood clearly dampened.

Oh, it would be fun toying with her.

As I turned my attention forward, I caught Secretary Coy's eyes in the rearview mirror, his expression humorless. It was obvious what he was thinking, and I had to agree.

We couldn't lower our guard around Miss Corday too much. Though she was our weapon to wield, if we got too careless, we could get cut in the process.

And if she was as smart as she was arrogant, she truly could bring me to ruin.

Let our little game begin, I thought. Let's see who will tame the other first.