
RED HOURGLASS

_Hourglass Series - Book One_

by Scarlet Risqué

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www.thescarletqueen.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, or they are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

2015 Scarlet Corp eBook Edition

Copyright © 2015 by Scarlet Risqué

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Prologue

My assigned target was Mr. Torn. He was in his fifties and married with two young daughters. Torn was a fund manager and he'd expropriated significant numbers from his clients' accounts. The missing millions had been wired into fat offshore bank accounts in the names of his wife and daughters. The whole thing irked me.

I began my surveillance. He kept his laptop with him in a briefcase and he went to the same bar every Friday night. I watched from across the street as he left the bar week after week with a different young brunette. It wasn't my concern, but knowing that he was cheating on his wife made my job much easier. My real concern was that the money didn't belong to him.

* * *

I was finally ready to catch my prey. I contemplated what to wear as I put on French lingerie and stockings. A few of the girls he'd left the bar with were wearing yellow, but there were no yellow dresses or accessories in my wardrobe. I hated yellow.

I did my make up, covered the crescent scar on my abdomen with concealer, and put my brown hair up in a sexy bun. I secured a black belt around my cocktail dress to offset the red and highlight my hourglass shape, and I slipped my tiny feet into the blood-red platform stilettos that matched my dress.

After one last check in the mirror, I grabbed my clutch handbag and headed out.  _A woman's got to look perfect to catch her man_.

I hailed a taxi and went to Torn's Friday night haunt. As I positioned myself at the bar, I knew it wouldn't be long before he slithered up to me.

"Hey you sexy hottie," the money man slurred. "May I get you a drink?"

"Sure, that would be nice."

I turned and flashed him a fake smile. His shifty face made him look like a shrewd snake and his voice made me want to puncture his long neck with one of my stilettos. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have wasted a minute talking to him.

"How about a glass of red wine?" he asked.

"Merlot, please."

The man had some class, but still, he was a thief who'd siphoned the hard-earned pensions of ordinary working people into his own pockets. He looked me up and down. His green eyes highlighted the sinister undertones of his classy guy façade.

"Very good." He sat down on the barstool next to me and waved to the bartender. "Two glasses of Merlot. So, what brings a sexy girl like you here?"

"My job. I just moved here."

"Manhattan is the place to be." He sipped his wine. "Just look around, it's the center of the world. There's money to be made on every corner. It's so easy."

"Perhaps, but I've noticed that there's a lot of homelessness ... and poverty."

"That's because they're the losers at the bottom. This city is meant for winners." He flicked out his tongue and licked his lips. "Only winners make it in the Big Apple."

"True." I remembered my younger days, sleeping in the subway like a pathetic sewer rat, almost starving to death. "We're all seeking the high life here."

After a couple more of glasses of Merlot, he was sloshed.

"Let's you and me head somewhere else," he said, putting a cold hand on my shoulder. "You're incredibly sexy with that figure of yours ... in that red dress."

"Sure, why not? I have nowhere else to be."

"I'll keep you warm." He slid off his barstool and wrapped his arm around my waist before zigzagging us to the door.

I wondered if he was scheming to coil me up in his slimy body and I smiled to myself. He didn't have a clue.

He hailed a taxi and I suggested the hotel. The receptionist handed me the key with an approving smile.

We took the elevator up to the special suite that I'd used before. The moment we stepped inside, he stripped off his clothes and threw himself on the bed. He stunk of filth.

"Now, here boy," I said as I lifted my dress, revealing my slender thighs and black garter belt.

"Brunettes and red ... simply hot, hot, hot," he hissed.

Torn was perched on his elbows, leering at me as I slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders. The tip of his tongue appeared between his teeth, as if he was using it to pick up my scent.

With the top of my dress hanging down from my waist, I turned around very slowly and showed him my tattoo.

"A red ... hourglass." He stared at me for a moment. His eyes went wide and he miraculously sobered up. "That's the mark of a black widow spider."

"Yes, it is." I grinned and stepped out of my dress as I took the blood-red switchblade from the secret compartment in the sole of my shoe. I flicked it open and the glistening blade reflected my pearly white smile.

He leapt off the bed and bobbled to the locked door. When the knob wouldn't turn he began hammering the door with his fists. Red smears appeared on the clear plastic cover over the emergency exit diagram. He looked at his shredded forearms and the blood streaking down the door before turning to me.

"It won't open without the key." I laughed and dangled the silver key between my fingers as I walked toward him. "Why don't you come and get it?"

He pressed himself into the bloody door and began shaking.

"You sly snake," I said as I grabbed him by the hair and yanked his greasy head back. I lightly drew my blade across his exposed neck. It was titillating. I wanted to lick the fear exuding from him.

"Please ... don't kill me," he groveled. "What do you want? What do you want me to do?"

"Everything I tell you to," I whispered as I bit his earlobe.  _Yummy._  "Get in the bathtub or I'll slice my blade across that neck of yours."

I pushed him into the bathroom as I got my clutch. He climbed into the tub and I forced him to his knees.

"Turn around and face the wall you disgusting thief," I said as I shoved his forehead into the tiles. I pressed my blade into his neck and cuffed his wrists behind his back with metal handcuffs. "First, you're going to give me your offshore account information ... INCLUDING PASSWORDS!" I ran my blade down his trembling spine and put the stopper in the drain. "If the passwords don't work, or I don't like what I hear, I'll open your throat and you'll bleed to death." I dragged my blade up his spine, resting it at the base of his skull. "And don't bother screaming. No one can hear you and you'll just give me a headache. Got it?"

"Ye ... ye ... yes."

"Good. Just give me what I need, and everything will be fine."

I wrote down all the information and used his laptop to test the passwords. They worked. I had everything I needed now. The White Queen's instructions were clear. She'd hand all the information I retrieved over to the police.  _Mission accomplished_.

I went back into the bathroom and turned him around. I began interrogating him about his despicable behavior. Whenever he gave me an answer I didn't want to hear, I made little cuts and pokes in his skin. Thin lines of bright red blood were trickling from the wounds all over his chest and arms. I enjoyed torturing him--and making him kneel in his own blood and piss.

"Please ... please stop!" he begged. "We couldn't pay the bills ... I had no choice. I had to take the money."

"You're a LIAR!" I yelled, thrusting my blade toward his eyes.

"Okay, okay. I'll give you everything I have ... just let me live. I have more ... a lot more than what's in those offshore accounts. You can't kill me. I have a wife and two daughters ... they need me."

"Really? And does your wife know about your Friday night brunettes you pig?" I laughed and slowly carved an X into his chest as he screamed in pain. "Well, tell me how to get my hands on your other assets and I'll let you go home to your  _loved ones_."

He began spouting off assets and investment accounts that were of no interest to me. The white bathtub was a dripping red mess as he squirmed and squawked. I was getting sick of hearing his pathetic pleas and pitiful screams.

"That's enough you filthy snake. Shut up!" I turned him toward the wall and gouged my blade into his right wrist with a hard twist. He yelped and I slammed the blade into his other wrist with another full twist. Blood was spurting out like two mini red waterfalls and he was wailing like a disgusting giant baby.

"I don't want to die! Don't want to die!" he shrieked as his blood pooled in the bottom of the tub.

Echoes of screams from my previous targets whirred through my mind. I knew he'd pass out soon enough.

I shut the bathroom door and tuned the stereo to the classical station. I danced around in a reverie as divine music filled the room and my target's pained moans faded to quiet whimpers. I was floating off into the bliss of the heavens--where I was with my mother once again.

The music stopped and it was silent. I called Vanus.

"It's done."
My Childhood

My name used to be Mary Summers. My mother abandoned me in the sunflower field that we once laughed and played in. I was in fifth grade when she disappeared. The field became a wasteland of yellowy slime, and I grew to detest the color yellow. Everything sunny, bright, and cheery took on a form of yucky ugliness and filled me with disgust.

I hated my mother with every single fiber of my being, yet I prayed that she would come back to the farm one day. I often imagined lying in her lap as she sang lullabies and rocked me to sleep on lazy afternoons. When I dreamt of being in her arms again, in-between heaven and Earth in fields of blue and yellow, it was pure joy.

One day, not long after she left, my stepfather interrupted my peaceful daydream. I was sitting outside on the white glider bench where my mother used to cuddle me. My stepfather grabbed me by the ponytail and dragged me into the house.

"Do the housework you useless bum! Start with the floors!" he shouted. He glared down at me with bloodshot eyes and shoved a giant mop into my small hands. "Be a good girl and you'll get dinner tonight. If not, you'll sleep outside."

I choked back tears as I mopped the floor. I hated my mother for leaving me with such a cruel man.

We had canned pea soup for dinner that night. He stared at me as I ate, making sure that I finished every drop. On days that I didn't finish all my food, he would hit me with a rolled up newspaper until I couldn't move.

I was afraid of him, but I couldn't confide in anyone--not my teachers, not my best friend, not anyone. I didn't want to reveal my loss, and I kept my hurt and pain hidden from the world. I held these dark secrets in a locked box in the furthest recesses of my heart. I secretly believed that my mother would come back someday ... and everything would be okay. And if not, I knew that I would leave this place once I was ready.

Going to school was an escape from my stepfather's violence. Vibrant flowers were painted on the walls of Summerdale Elementary, and our principal was a particular woman who ran the school with a big heart. She made sure that we all ate fruit at the morning assembly. The school had a few hundred students from the surrounding countryside, and it was my only oasis.

During one art class, I used a pair of scissors to cut shapes out of construction paper. I channeled all the pain into my work, cutting and cutting through page after page. It was then I realized that I could create art with a blade.

My obsession with blades grew as I used sharp, pointed tools to sculpt clay. I molded and indented the clay with my blades to create a distorted, hollow figurine of myself. I didn't see myself as a girl, or even a human being. I was a terrible monster that shouldn't have been born.

I quickly learned that I could use my figurines to project my perception of beauty into the ugliness that I had come to accept as myself. I began adding eyes, eyelashes, and curly hair to my creations, only to smash them back into formless lumps of clay. But for a brief moment, I could recreate myself as an imagined me.

Over time, I perfected a figurine of my mother. I added miniature wings so that it looked like an angel. I left it to dry, and then I painted my mother's soft eyes, long blond hair, and pink, kissable lips on the white figurine. I imagined her perfect angel figurine flying toward my disfigured figurine.

* * *

"Why are you always making figurines?" Anna asked as she inspected my creations with her almond-shaped eyes behind thick glasses.

Anna was my best friend and we called each other besties. She was short and had to sit in the front of class to see the board.

My fingers were sticky with wet clay that smelled like dung. I focused on sculpting my next figurine and didn't answer her.

"You've made ten of those now," said Anna, pointing at the row of figurines drying in the sun on the window sill. "They all look horrible except for the angel."

"I look horrible."

"Nah, silly. You look just like the nice angel one." She pointed at the perfected figurine. "Isn't it supposed to be you?"

"No. It's my mother." I wondered if her comment had to do with her nearsightedness. I couldn't take her seriously because she was too blind to see me for who I was.

"Hmm." Anna shrugged. "Well, it looks just like you. You should make more of those. The wings are pretty." She shoved her drawing toward my desk. "How do you like my artwork?"

It was a picture of her family, and she was holding her younger brother's hand. There were cows grazing in the foreground and a cottage on top of a hill. They owned a dairy farm.

"It's nice," I said as a burn erupted in my chest. I envied her family ... and that her mother was in the drawing.

I used a sharp knife to shape the figurine in my hand. I wanted to create the perfect form of myself, but all I could manage was a round face, two hands, and long legs. I rolled up the clay and started again.

* * *

"You liar! You stole my book!" Anna screamed at me in the playground, drawing the attention of the other students.

"I didn't. I swear," I said, trying to calm her down.

"Then why is my book in your bag?"

"Someone else put it there."

"I don't believe you!" Anna pulled a small folding knife out of her skirt pocket. Her hands shook with anger as she opened it and wielded it in my direction. "You're full of lies!"

I instinctively lunged at her, covered her eyes with one hand, and grabbed the pocketknife with my other hand. I cut my fingers as I disarmed her. _This is what it feels like to be sliced by someone close to my heart_. I knew in that moment that the pain was addictive. I let go of the pocketknife and it dropped into the sand.

"Anna, we're besties. You know I'd never do that." Blood began trickling down my fingers. Little droplets dripped from my hand into red splotches on the sand.

"I used to trust you, but I've seen you stealing books from the library. I just never said anything."

"But ..."

"This is it you thief! We're not friends anymore!" she screamed as she ran away from the playground.

I did steal Anna's book. It was a storybook I wanted but couldn't afford. I picked up her knife and thought about all the times we shared, laughing and running around in circles. Those times with her--in school, away from the pain and violence of my home--were the best times of my life. It only took three minutes to end three years of friendship. _I really am a monster_. That night, I slept with the teddy bear she gave me for my last birthday.

Anna transferred to a new school the next day. With her gone, I had no friends and nothing to look forward to. All my classmates were afraid to come near me, but I didn't care. _Let them fear me_. _At least I_ ' _ll be safe_.

For the next few days, I couldn't use my right hand to write. The slightest movement opened my wounds, splattering my schoolwork with drops of blood. I had to replace the bandages when that happened.

I got in the habit of carrying Anna's pocketknife with me wherever I went, and I played with it under my desk at school. I enjoyed folding the blade in and out, in and out, in and out.

As the weeks passed, I realized that I would never see Anna again. Just like my mother, she wasn't coming back. Books became my new companions. I didn't need anyone to talk to.

* * *

One night, I took the teddy bear Anna gave me and started shredding it with her pocketknife. It felt so good that I sliced up all my soft toys. My bedroom was littered with stuffing and fluffy remains after the slaughter. Lying amidst the massacre remains gave me a sense of power. It was like I could do anything in the world with this blade. I was a superhero, a superstar, something bigger than myself.

My stepfather walked into the room, filling it with the stink of cigarettes and vodka.

"Clean up this mess you monkey!" he shouted.

I pointed the pocketknife at him in defiance.

"How dare you! Put the knife down you ungrateful little brat!"

He tried to pin me on my bed and I struggled against his weight. With one grab, he took the knife from my small hand.

"Clean up this room if you don't want a beating!" He stormed out and slammed the door.

I found another pocketknife I'd hidden under my bed and started playing with it. I liked the way I could control how the light shined off the blade ... and knowing that I could use it to cut through anything I wanted.

_If only I were strong enough to overpower my stepfather_. _If only I could run away from this hell_. I swore that I would take my revenge one day.

* * *

To avoid the wrath of my stepfather, I began cooking and cleaning every day. He would put his spare change on the table beside the front door before he left to work the fields. He only ever used the money for booze and cigarettes, so I started taking some of it to buy food from the nearby market. I'd seen my mother cook, and I recalled enough to make meals.

My stepfather drank himself stupid every night after dinner. During the week he sat in front of the old TV that didn't get reception when the weather was bad. It didn't matter what was on, and if the reception was bad he would just stare at the snow on the screen and drink. When my mother was still around, she'd watch with him. After she was gone, he sat in the same spot on the sofa, next to her empty seat. He went to the local bar for his drinks on weekends. Years passed, and he continued to drink away his nights.

I planned to escape when I turned sixteen. I read as much as I could about city life and other places and countries that I could explore after I left the farm. I had maps tucked under my bed, and every night I would unfold them and imagine where my travels would take me once I made my way out of hell.
Max

Max bullied the weak boys at school and coerced them into giving him protection payments. He was always escorted by two big boys as he collected his money--and he was constantly swarmed by crazy fangirls.

I wanted to unlock the secret of his popularity and I began sketching him in class. With his angular chin, spiky hair, long sideburns, and intense black eyes, he made a good subject.

I was reading a book with the nerds in the schoolyard when Max and his gang approached me.

"I've heard about you ... Mary Summers," said Max.

"Who are you?" I continued reading my book. I was worried that he was mad because he'd found out that I'd been secretly sketching him.

"What? You don't know who I am?" He eyed me carefully from head to toe. "Sorry. I guess I should introduced myself. I'm Max. These two guys here are my buddies. Wanna hang out later?"

"Sure, why not?" I knew Anna had a secret crush on him in fifth grade. I'd seen her write love letters and slip them into his locker. But who was I to decline an offer from the most popular guy on the planet?

"Great. Meet me outside after school." He smiled and did a stealthy little fist pump as he walked away.

The other girls were all staring at me. I knew they were jealous. _Hah,_ _stupid girls_.

The clock seemed to tick in slow motion the rest of the afternoon. It felt like an eternity. I couldn't pay attention in class as I daydreamed and feverishly drew on my notebooks--hearts, swords, and lots of other nonsensical things. Why did I agree to meet someone I wasn't at all attracted to? I knew I was acting silly, but the thought of doing something out of the ordinary excited me. I guess it was the thrill of the unknown, and being envied by the other girls was quite ... satisfying.

The loud school bell at the end of the day brought me back to the chaotic classroom. As everyone else scrambled to leave, I erased the scribbles on my notebooks.

I skipped toward the school gates. Max was standing next to one of the stone pillars, beside his shiny motorcycle. The frame and tank were painted metallic-white with electric-blue flames.

"Wanna go for a ride?" Max asked.

"That would be ... nice." I didn't want to sound too excited, but I was screaming with delight on the inside, like a little girl.

"Put this on." He handed me a helmet.

I took the clunky helmet and clumsily put it over my head. Max helped me tighten and fasten the chin strap.

"There you are. Now we can explore together. Let's go," he said as he got on the bike and put on his black leather gloves. He signaled for me to hop on the back.

I threw my leg over the saddle and climbed onto his dangerous weapon. I'd never gone out with someone I barely knew, much less ridden on a motorcycle.

"I'm gonna start the engine," he said as he used his foot to put up the kickstand and turned the key in the ignition. "Hang on tight to my waist and lean with me when we turn. But most of all, make sure you don't fall off."

"Okay," I said as I put my arms around his sturdy waist and clasped my hands in front of him.

Max gently turned the throttle and we rolled out the school gates. He waved goodbye to the security guard, and all the girls were trailing us with envious eyes as we rode away.

We drove along the winding country roads for a short distance, and then he pulled over.

"This is where I live," he said, pointing at a cottage. "You can come over anytime."

"Really?" I said, removing the hot helmet. I looked around and noticed a lap pool by the side of the cottage. "That might be nice."

He dismounted and helped me off the bike.

"Could you teach me to ride this thing?" I asked, caressing the bike's flamed tank.

"If you want to ride this beast, you can't have any fear," he smiled.

"That's not a problem. I don't have any fears."

"Really? A girl with no fears? That's amazing."

"You don't know me very well ... yet." I blushed. "So, how does this thing work?"

"First, you have to make sure it's in neutral. You pull the clutch lever with your left hand and use your left foot to push the shifter pedal down until it doesn't go down any more. Then, move your foot underneath the pedal and lift it to click the bike into neutral. You can let go of the clutch when it's in neutral. Then you're ready to put up the kickstand, turn the key, and press the starter. Engage the clutch again and press down on the shifter pedal to put it in first gear. Turn the right grip toward you to give it some throttle as you let go of the clutch. When you need to shift into second, pull in the clutch and put your left foot under the shifter to click up into second, and so on. Use the last three fingers on your right hand to grab the brake lever for the front brake. That little pedal by your right foot is the back brake. And don't ever touch the exhaust pipe ... unless you want to get burned," he said, pointing down at the shiny silver pipe.

"Okay, let me try." I climbed on the bike and my feet barely reached the ground. The bike was already in neutral, so I put up the kickstand, started the engine, and turned the right grip. The engine started to roar. "I think I'm getting the hang of this ..."

"All right girl, that's enough. I'll teach you to ride, but not today," he said, grabbing the grips.

I scooted back and Max climbed on. I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned into his warm body.

"Let's ride," he said as we tore off down the road.

* * *

We went for long rides around the countryside most afternoons after school. It was fun speeding down the twisty roads and up the dirt tracks in the rolling hills. We explored the terrain and out-of-the-way, isolated places, having our own mini-adventures and picnics in the hills. Our fruit and sandwiches seemed to taste much better under the wide open bright blue sky.

Max taught me how to ride over the next few months. Commanding the lethal machine between my legs with him at my back, the wind in my hair, and nothing in the way to stop us was exhilarating. The smell of freedom as we raced toward liberation was intoxicating. We were young and carefree, cruising along highways and byways that seemed to go on forever.

One night, after a long ride, we went up into the hills and sat under the pitch-black sky. There was no one around for miles, and the moonlight was shimmering off the lake at the bottom of the hill.

"I'm moving out soon," I said. "I can't live with my stepfather anymore. I need to go to the city and find my mother."

"I'll help you," said Max. "We can live at my house until I go to college."

"Are you serious? You'd do that for me?"

"Yeah ... you're my love. When I get my acceptance letters from the schools, I'll know my options. Anyway, I'll be moving away to go to college in a few months and I'll take you with me."

"You know I can't afford to go to college, right? My stepfather doesn't even want me to leave the farm."

"Your stepdad's selfish. He just wants to keep you to himself."

"Yeah ... so I can do all the cooking and housework and keep him company. He still talks about my mother. He occasionally calls out her name when he's passed out drunk on the sofa. And he still hits me sometimes."

"Ouch, that must hurt," said Max, putting his arm around my neck and looking up at the stars. "It's not your fault that your mother took off, and you shouldn't be stuck here as that jerk's slave. You have me now."

"Where have you applied to college?" I asked.

"All over the country. When we move, I'll find a place to rent and we'll live together. You can work, and maybe I'll be able to get a part-time job. If we're careful, maybe we can save up enough for you to go to college the following year. I want to help you ... I will help you."

"You're so nice to me." I turned to face him and put my hand on his chest. "Why?"

"Because you're worth it," he said and gave me a peck on the cheek. "You're different ... a nerdy but fearless girl."

He kissed my lips deeply and fondled my body. His fingers played me like a string instrument and I sang to his touch. With the stars as our witnesses, time seemed to stop in that moment.
Leave

Max dropped me off at the farm after a short motorcycle ride. I noticed that the sunflowers were withering in the scorching summer heat. The climate was becoming increasingly unpredictable. When it affected the yearly harvests it made my stepfather's mood worse.

Tonight was the night. Max would come back at midnight and we'd start our new life together.

I made dinner for my stepfather and then shut myself in my room. I stuffed as much of my life into my backpack as I could, and I strapped a thick canvas pouch to the bottom of the pack.

I'd become quite skilled with blades. After my soft toy massacre, I moved on to large melons, bird carcasses, and legs of lamb when I could trade some of our farm produce for one. My cuts and slices were now fast and precise. I gathered up all the knives, daggers, and scalpels that I'd hidden around my room and put most of them in the canvass pouch. I slid a tight-fitting leather sheath over the blade of my favorite dagger and tucked it in the waistband of my jeans, and I slipped a switchblade in my back pocket.

A few minutes before midnight, I grabbed my overstuffed backpack and crept out of my room. I couldn't open the front door. It had a new dead bolt and I didn't have a key.

The television was off and I looked over my shoulder. My stepfather was on the sofa, cradling a can of beer and puffing away on a cigar in the dark.

"I knew you were planning to run away with that boyfriend of yours you slut!" he yelled, shattering the still night air. He squeezed the can and I heard the sound of metal being crushed. "You'll never leave this place, ever!"

He got up and staggered toward me. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath reeked of alcohol. He gave me a hard smack across the face that sent me crashing to the floor.

"I'll never let you leave me!" He pounced on me and began pulling at my shirt, revealing my bra.

"Leave me alone!" I shrieked as I struggled beneath his weight.

"You're exactly like your mother! I won't let you leave me like Matilda did!"

His eyeballs were bulging out of his head and veins were pulsating in his sweaty neck. He tried to pull down my jeans with his grubby hands and I screamed as loudly as I could.

"Shut up you little whore! No one can hear you out here!" He slapped me across the face and unzipped my jeans.

I was screeching in terror. The disgusting drunk maggot was going to rape me and I had to do something. I couldn't reach my dagger, so I pulled out my switchblade.

"STOP!" I shouted as I sat up with all my strength. I flashed my blade in front of his eyes and jabbed the tip into his neck. "GET OFF ME!"

"How dare you!" he yelled, grabbing for my wrists. "This is my house and I'll do what I like!"

I was twisting and turning, using my body to push against him with all my might, but he wouldn't get off me. I began swinging my arms wildly and the switchblade glided across his neck.

"Yooooou ... murderous ... bitch," he gurgled in horror as blood spilled from his gaping mouth and gushed out his severed carotid arteries.

He instinctively put both hands to his neck before collapsing on top of me. His hot, purple-black blood poured all over my clothes. I pushed him aside and rolled out from under him.

"You ... won't ... get ... away ... with ..." he coughed and spluttered as the last of his black blood drained from his body.

My heart hardened as I witnessed his demise. I couldn't believe that my stepfather tried to touch me, but I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted to cut him, to scare him off. He attacked me first. I had no control over what happened.

I felt his sticky black blood seeping through my clothes like a plague. I rushed into the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. The sight of his blood smeared all over me made my hair stand on end and I jumped back. I peeled off my clothes and scrubbed the remains of his filth off my skin as fast as I could. Then I bleached my switchblade.

I went to my bedroom and put on clean clothes. I carefully placed my bloodstained bra, panties, T-shirt, and jeans in a plastic bag.

I put my switchblade in the pocket of my clean jeans and went to the living room. I stuffed the plastic bag in my backpack and looked for my sheathed dagger. Somehow, it wasn't covered in blood and I slipped it into my waistband.

Bending over the motionless body of my stepfather, I placed my fingers under his nostrils. There was no breath. He was dead.

_I've killed my stepfather_. I couldn't believe it. It was terrifying being in a room with a dead body ... that I'd killed. I had to get out of there.

I reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny new key. My heart was pounding as I picked up my backpack and went to the door. The key worked and I let out a sigh of relief. I locked the door behind me and ran into the yard. _I can never return home_.

Max was waiting for me. "What took you so long? Come on, hurry up."

Cold sweat was dripping down my forehead and I was panting as I climbed on the back of his motorcycle.

"Did you take all the stuff you need?"

"Yes. Everything's in my backpack." I was trying to hide my shock. I held on to Max as tightly as I could and rested my head on his back. I wanted to cry, but I forced my eyes shut to stop my tears.

"Is your stepfather all right with you moving?"

"I got him settled."

"Good, let's go."

He started the engine and the vibrations hummed through my body as we rode away. I couldn't open my eyes.

When we got to Max's house I took my belongings into his room. He had a spare drawer in his dresser and I unloaded everything into it. I kept the plastic bag with the bloody clothes in my backpack, careful not to let Max see it.

It was only a matter of time before the police found my stepfather's corpse and came looking for me. If they questioned me, I'd deny everything and pretend that I was innocent, but I knew I'd probably end up in a juvenile prison. At least I could spend my remaining days of freedom with Max.

It was awful being afraid of getting caught by the police. I knew I had to lie low, but I still needed to get rid of my bloody clothes. The next day, I asked Max if I could go for a ride on his bike to clear my head. I took the plastic bag with my bloody clothes up into the hills and threw it in the lake.

* * *

Max's parents were mostly indifferent about me moving in. At first, they treated me like I was just his friend. They didn't ask many questions, but his mother began setting a place for me at the dinner table.

They talked about sending Max to college, and I secretly wished that I'd grown up in a good family. I wondered why my mother didn't take me along when she left. Things might've been different for me if she'd been around. I wouldn't have had to kill anyone if I'd been raised in this family. _Life isn't fair_.

The only thing keeping me in the town was Max. He'd helped me escape from my stepfather, and he'd promised not to tell people that I was staying with his family. He said he'd tell anyone who asked where I was that I'd left to find work.

Max's parents owned a clothes shop in town, and they usually came home late. I began helping out with the housework and making dinners.

One evening, Max's mother came home early. "The house is sparkling clean and tidy," she gasped in awe as she stood in the doorway.

"I've just been doing some housework to keep busy," I said. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"You're a sweet girlfriend for Max. You should go with him when he leaves for college."

"That's nice of you to say." I giggled. His mother was so kind. "I've made soup. It's on the stove."

"Thank you dear." She walked into the kitchen and lifted the lid off the soup pot to take a look. "Have you applied to college?"

"Not yet. I'm waiting to see where Max goes." In reality, college wasn't an option for me. Once I left this place, no one could ever know my name, where I was from, or where I was going.

I was acting like everything was normal, but I rarely left the house. Their home became my refuge. My days were spent cleaning, cooking, and reading their books.

* * *

After school was out for the summer, Max got a job as a pizza delivery boy. I'd been living with his family for a month, and it was only a matter of time before people began asking serious questions about my stepfather. I was getting nervous about sticking around, and I tried to talk to Max about it one night.

"We'll be moving soon, so you can go to college," I said. "Why don't we just move now? Let's go to New York City."

"Hold on Mary. I don't even know if I got into NYU. We'll move after I get the acceptance letter. Okay?"

"I don't think I can wait that long. I'm afraid that my stepfather will find us. I think I should move now. Come with me, please."

"You don't have to worry about that." Max cuddled up to me. "No one's going to find you."

"I'll give you a week to think about it ... at most," I said. "After that, I have to leave."

"Okay, a month it is."

"I said a week."

"I know, but I have a job. I have to give four weeks' notice, otherwise they'll never give me a good recommendation."

"Four weeks is a really long notice period. Isn't it usually two weeks?"

"Well, you know those guys. They're sort of weird about stuff."

"Hmm, I guess."

Max's hadn't been his usual self since he got his job, and I really didn't like his answer. We talked less and less, and he'd been coming home later and later. He also left for work hours before his shift.

* * *

I was feeling blue the next day, and I decided to take a walk by our old school. I was risking being spotted, but I felt like going back there would help me remember the good times.

As I walked by the school gates, I saw him smooching a girl at the pillar where we'd met that first day after school. I'd always suspected that this day would come. He did have a playboy reputation. _Why did I bother with him at all_? I ran away with a heaviness in my chest.

I heard fast footsteps clomping up behind me. Max grabbed me by the arm and whipped me around to face him.

"Mary ..."

"Keep your mouth shut. I saw everything."

"No. You have to listen to me."

"I don't have to do anything you tell me. You men are all the same. You're all jerks. My stepfather, you ..."

"Please, let me explain."

"You don't have to explain what just happened between you and her," I said, pointing at the bewildered girl covering her mouth. "I'm just another one of your scores ... one of the many girls you've slept with. You were just using me, but it's okay. I knew what you were before I went out with you."

"I'm not using you Mary ... I swear."

"Well I was using you! I just wanted to find out what it feels like to sleep with someone! Now I'm done with you. Happy?!" I shouted at the top of my voice, letting out all my pent up frustration.

"I'm sorry." He tried to pull me closer. "I still love you."

"Then it's too bad that I don't love you anymore." I pushed him away and felt for the knife in my back pocket.

"Mary, don't be like that. You still love me. You know you do." He stepped closer and hugged me.

Memories of our nights on top of the hill flooded my vision.

"You feel our connection too," he said. "I know you do. Don't you?"

"If there was ever a connection between us, you broke it." I pushed him away and took out my pocketknife. "Stay away from me! I'm warning you!" I waved my knife at him.

"Chill girl. Put the knife down," he said, stepping back. "You know I really love you."

"Lies! You're just full of a bunch of lies! I never should've believed anything you said!"

I threw my knife toward the pillar and the terrified girl ducked in time. My blade landed on the pavement with a loud clink.

I ran as fast as I could over to Max's motorcycle. Luckily, the keys were in the ignition as usual. I jumped on the bike and sped off down the road.

If the police didn't already know about my stepfather, they'd know soon enough. I had to get out of town. I rode to Max's house and stuffed my possessions into my backpack, and then I took all the cash I could find.

I headed for the highway as fast as I could. A part of me felt like crashing--smashing up his pride and joy and my pathetic life in one fell swoop. Then I realized that I'd wanted to leave this place for as long as I could remember. I always knew this day would come, and it was finally here. I was free of him and everything else in that town.

I followed the signs toward the big city ... Manhattan. I was on a one-way trip, never to return. I was as free as the wind.
Landing

The bike came to a spluttering halt at the base of the Williamsburg Bridge. It was out of gas. I abandoned it and started walking.

Dusk was falling and the bright lights of the tall skyscrapers lit up the Manhattan sky. The buildings were so tall--the tallest I'd ever seen. They terrified me. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to keep walking.

_Is Manhattan the city my stepfather told me my mother left me for_? I recalled her faint voice trailing away as she disappeared into the sunflower field. My stepfather called her Matilda, and her last name must've been Summers. Matilda Summers. I was sure that was her name.

Neon shop signs bathed the sidewalks in rainbow shades, but this place was still scary and overwhelming. The people hurried around without looking at anyone or anything. They either stared directly ahead or at their cell phones, never stopping to talk or look at the flowers or trees.

I wanted to ask someone where I could go to get help in this new place, but I didn't dare approach anyone. I was isolated and disconnected from everything. I felt like a tiny lone rat.

A cry of helplessness tugged inside my chest. I spotted a policeman standing on a corner. _Should I ask him where to go_? _What if he finds out I killed my stepfather and stole my boyfriend's bike_? I couldn't go to jail, at least not before I found my mother. I knew she would help me if I found her. I put my head down and kept walking.

I glanced at the boyish-looking digital watch on my wrist. It was eight p.m. I'd stolen the solar-powered watch from Max's bedroom before I left. _At least it doesn't need batteries_.

My stomach was growling and upset. I saw a small market on the corner. I went in and bought the cheapest loaf of bread I could find.

The next thing I had to do was find a place to sleep. There were stairs leading beneath the sidewalk on practically every other corner. I knew from what I'd read that they must lead to the subway. As I followed a crowd of strangers down the stairs, I was hit by the nauseating smell of a subway in the summer. It was a mixture of stinky sweat and piss.

I made my way to a train platform and there were plenty of places to sit. _I can sleep here tonight_. I found an empty bench along the wall. I made myself comfortable and ate my loaf of bread. This would be my new home--my underground shelter--full of strangers and passing faces.

No one in the big city knew me, and I didn't know them. No one could judge my past. I realized that no one here would even care if I was alive or dead. This was the perfect place to be.

I used my backpack as a pillow and tried to rest. The sea of faces started to fade as my eyelids grew heavy and my vision blurred. I fell asleep on the bench, hoping to see my mother's face in the crowd.

* * *

I opened my eyes and remembered dreaming about my mother. She was standing in the middle of a sunflower field, the ends of her white dress floating in the wind. Just before I woke up, her hands were reaching out to me, dissolving into blurry sepia. I closed my eyes again, trying to retrieve more details about her from my mind. I saw her blond hair, hazel eyes, and angelic face.

I put on my backpack and went up the subway stairs, determined to start looking for my mother. Yellow taxis buzzed like bees through the mad maze of roads in the financial district.

I walked briskly, squinting my eyes as I frantically searched for my mother's face. All the women seemed to be wearing huge sunglasses. I stood still on the busy sidewalk and closed my eyes. I tried to visualize my mother. I wanted to remember her facial features, but I couldn't remember any details.

A hard knock from someone's elbow pushed me off the sidewalk and into the path of an oncoming car. The horn blared as the yellow cab swerved and narrowly missed my arm. Spinning lantern images of my mother flashed through my mind.

I regained my balance and jumped onto the sidewalk. I turned to look for the culprit who'd bumped me, but no one had stopped. All the self-absorbed strangers continued walking around in their own little worlds, and I continued walking with them.

How was I going to find my mother? What should I do? Should I call the police? Should I ask for help? Where could I go? All these questions raced through my mind.

I knew I couldn't go to the police. I had no ID with me, and if they found out my identity they'd have to question me about my stepfather. Then I'd either be headed to juvenile prison or a home for runaways.

_Maybe I can go to a church to pray and seek salvation_. _Would God accept a murderess like me_? I was a sinner, and I knew I'd probably burn in the depths of hell. There was no way I could turn to a church. It was just me, alone against the world.

A woman who looked vaguely similar to my mother was walking toward me. She had translucent milky skin and the soft features of a dove that reminded me of my mother's soft hands. She was wearing a long linen coat and holding a cigarette.

_Is that her_? I turned and walked after the woman. I got as close to her as I could, hoping to steal a few more glances. She walked into a fancy apartment building with a doorman and disappeared.

I realized that all I could do was hope to find a trace of my mother in the streets of Manhattan. Maybe she would appear one day like an angel and recognize me. _Do I even believe in God and angels_? _Hope is what divides the living from the living dead_.

In that moment, I became one of the living dead. I was an orphan in the big city--lost in my own little bubble amid the rushing madness. I no longer saw the sky or fields, just dirty streets and skyscraper after skyscraper.

My survival instincts kicked in. I sat down at a bus stop and furtively counted my remaining cash. It would probably last for three or four months if I was careful. I could buy cheap food and get water from the taps in subway toilets or the water fountains in parks. I would do whatever I had to do to survive in this place for as long as I could.
Hunger

The streets became my new friends. I was subject to their fury and callousness--and unexpected kindnesses. My existence was precarious, but I was learning how to survive by my wits. I would do whatever I had to do to stay in the city until I found my mother.

I alternated between sleeping in the subway and on hard park benches. Living life without a permanent place was difficult, but at least I felt safely out of the reach of the police.

I met Dave in early autumn, just as my funds were running low. He was a jazz musician from New Orleans who'd fallen on hard times. Dave always looked dirty and unkempt. Even if he managed to turn up for an audition, it was unlikely that he'd ever get a normal paying gig again. For years, it had just been him and his music and the commuter audience.

One day, I don't know why, but I started dancing as Dave busked. I didn't really know what I was doing, and it was like I was dancing some sort of frenzied dance straight out of some hallucination. My subconscious seemed to combine what I'd seen on television with the street movements of ghetto kids. The strange combination of a gigantic black jazz musician and a diminutive young dancing girl attracted the attention of passersby. Dave got more donations than usual that day, and he split them with me fifty-fifty. _I can dance for coins_.

We started performing together during the morning and evening rush hours. That's when we had the biggest audiences. I could dance for about two hours before the exhaustion set in. Then I would watch MTV on the televisions in the windows of electronics stores and practice my moves. Sometimes I practiced in the basement of a shopping mall before finding a bench for the night.

As weeks and months went by, I got better at dancing and we made more money. But I still felt pathetic. I'd sunk so low, like a sewer rat. I felt forsaken and unloved, kept alive by spare change from strangers. At times, I had no idea why I was still alive, and then I'd remember my search for my mother.

* * *

I went to Grand Central Station to meet Dave. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing for as long as I'd known him. The rest of his belongings were behind him in big plastic bags stowed in a shopping cart.

"Hey young girl, how are you?" he gently asked. The sweetness in his voice hadn't been crushed by the soul-destroying city.

I was always the young girl to Dave. He never asked my name or too many questions. Maybe that was part of the reason I liked him so much--but he also helped me out with advice about living on the streets.

"I'm good, Dave. Should we get started?"

Dave gave me a nod and straightened up. He began playing the familiar jazz tune on his old guitar--the most expensive thing he owned--and he sang with a soulful, deep voice. I always listened for the first few seconds, before closing my eyes and starting to sway to the rhythmic soul of his art. For the next two hours, I was guided by the music and his voice, moving my body in ways that felt right in the moment. When we were finished, we split the takings evenly.

"Why do you always put your money in there?" I asked, pointing at the bulging waist pouch underneath his clothes.

"So the pickpockets gotta work hard to rip off my money," he said, putting away his earnings. "There are people out here who steal from the homeless. That's how low they go. You gotta be extra careful with your cash. Now, listen here young girl. Winter's comin'. It's gonna be four months of freezing cold. I'm too old to be on the streets in that devil snow and ice, and I think you're too young for it."

"Are you going away?"

"I'm goin' to a shelter as soon as the mercury drops below freezing," he said. "I know you're real strong-headed and all, and it ain't my place to tell you what to do, but you ain't never slept rough through a New York winter. It ain't nice. I think you should try a shelter. Plus, you're real young, so they might be able to help get you back in school."

"I can't go to a shelter. I hated school ... and I won't go back." In truth, I was afraid the police would find me in a shelter. I was probably a murderess in their eyes, and they'd send me away if they found me. I had to find my mother, and I'd rather sleep rough than risk getting caught.

"You're stubborn, young girl. It'd make me feel a whole lot better if you'd go to a shelter for the winter."

"I know you're just looking out for me, but no." I didn't want to tell him my reason for not going.

"All right then," he said with a smile. "But you're gonna need a warm coat."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Come on then," said Dave.

He wheeled his shopping cart to a closet that he somehow had the key to and locked it inside. Then we hopped a train.

* * *

The Salvation Army had that weird thrift store smell, and it was packed tight with overflowing racks of clothes.

"The girls' stuff is over there," said Dave, pointing across the store.

I watched as his large frame slowly sauntered down to the men's section. He was lumbering from side to side as he made his way through the narrow aisles, leaving the clothes swinging on the racks behind him. He looked like a wobbling bear. I tried not to giggle, but I had to cover my mouth.

There was so much stuff that it took forever to find something I liked that fit. I finally found a small brown ski jacket that looked relatively new. It was down-filled with fur around the hood. It must've been discarded by a fashion house or a spoiled rich girl who lived in a fancy apartment like the ones on Fifth Avenue. There were no mirrors anywhere in the store, but I tested the gold zipper a couple of times to make sure it worked.

"That coat looks good on you. Take it," said Dave with an approving nod from across the racks. "You should also get a sweater, scarf, and gloves. You'll need lots of clothes to keep warm."

"Okay." I dug through the winter bins and found a brown scarf and gloves. Then I grabbed a bulky sweater off a rack.

Dave found a thick waterproof jacket and tried it on. "How does this look?"

"Pretty good," I lied. The black jacket had a few holes that I imagined were the result of rat bites. "Are we ready to go?" I was starting to feel claustrophobic and the smell was overwhelming. I had to get out of there.
Salvation

The day of the first freeze, Dave checked into a shelter for the winter. He showed me where it was so I could find him if I needed to.

One by one, all the street musicians disappeared from their usual spots. I knew they must've checked into shelters for the winter. I had no idea how I was going to make more money before Dave came out of hibernation, but that only strengthened my resolve to survive.

I missed our daily performances--and the regular income--but I'd been saving to tide myself over during the ice-cold months. I didn't need Dave to tell me that winter on the streets would be hard, but his suggestion did get me thinking. I realized I could go to a youth hostel and not be bothered by any authorities.

I checked into a hostel the first night it snowed. Having a hot shower and sleeping in a warm bed for the first time in months was glorious. I spent my days walking the streets looking for my mother, thankful for my winter clothes and a warm bed to sleep in.

* * *

I used up most of my savings on the hostel. By the first week of January, I was back to scavenging and sleeping in the subway. I found a pair of big winter gloves on a train, and I put them on over my other gloves for double protection against the cold.

I wandered aimlessly around subway stations, not knowing what to do. I was lost, like a body without a soul or a ghost devoid of love. My skin was practically sagging off my bones, and when I moved my limbs I felt aches and pains in my muscles and joints.

Stealing aspirin from bodegas and feeding on leftovers from trash cans and trays in fast food joints made me feel like a lowlife again. The worst part was that I was a complete nobody. I was an outcast, nothing more than lowly filth that society wanted to forget. I was a mere rat.

As I descended deeper and deeper into despair, I rarely thought of my mother. I could barely remember what she looked like.

One day, I saw a woman who reminded me of my mother--her golden hair, her bright smile, the familiar silhouette. She was getting on a train and I ran on after her.

"Mother, is it you?" I cried out as I grabbed both her arms and turned her around to face me.

At first, she looked at me quizzically, as if she was amused by a harmless weirdo. Her expression soon changed to one of disgust.

"You stink. Get away from me." She pushed me back and walked to the next car.

I was reminded of the terrible pain I felt when my mother disappeared. Her figure got smaller and smaller as she walked through the sunflower field toward the sunset on the horizon ... until I could no longer see her.

I gave up all hope of finding my mother in the city. _My search is futile_. The only thing keeping my body alive was my instinct to survive.

* * *

I was walking by a McDonald's and something caught my eye through the window. A teenage boy got up from a table without clearing away his tray. I ran in and grabbed his leftovers before the workers could stop me.

I stared at the digital watch on my wrist as I walked down the subway steps. It was the fifteenth of January. I sat on my usual bench under the dim subway lights and watched as the black numbers on the watch counted the last few seconds of the day.

Midnight. _Happy seventeenth birthday._

I tore open the McDonald's wrapper and scarfed down the half-eaten cheeseburger. Then I gulped down the flat Coke. My birthday meal didn't stop my stomach from growling.

It was too cold to go back outside to search for more food, so I foraged through a nearby trash can. It was full of empty cups from Starbucks, sandwich wrappers, and plastic food containers, but nothing to eat. I'd have to be hungry until morning.

I lay down on the cold metal bench and it burned my legs through my jeans. _Ouch._ I used my backpack as a pillow and curled my arm through the strap to prevent anyone from stealing it. I felt for the small blade in my front pocket and closed my eyes halfway. _If anyone bothers me, I'll get on the next train_ ... _or stab them_. _I hate winter._

I was awoken by someone caressing my hair the way my mother used to. I opened my eyes and looked up. A woman in a white fur coat and white gown was sitting on the bench, looking down at me. She was like a much older version of my mother.

"Mother?" I muttered. I wasn't sure if I was half-asleep or half-awake.

"You can call me mother, dear one," she said kindly. "What's your name?"

"I don't have a name."

"From now on, your name is Janet," she said, stroking my hair with her pointy fingers. "I'm going to take you to a warm, safe place."

I blinked and took a closer look at her. She had a round face and huge, wise eyes. She reminded me of a snowy owl.

"Why me?" Was she swooping down on me, the rat? _Is she going to kill me_? _Isn't that what owls do to their prey_? "I'm just a nobody."

"You _are somebody_ , my dear. You're meant for bigger things."

Bigger things? A pathetic sewer rat like me? Her words resonated with something inside me. _Yes_ ... _I am meant for bigger things_.

"Come with me," she said with outstretched palms. "I'll show you the way."

I was nearly dead from exhaustion and starvation. My will to live was gone. If she could show me a new way of living, why not? And if she was planning to kill me, I didn't really care as long as she fed me first.

"Show me the way." I used all my strength to sit up and grab her hands with both of mine.
The White Queen

The limousine pulled up to an imposing white iron fence that surrounded hundreds of acres. Everything was covered in a blanket of snow, but I had a feeling that the land was green and lush in other seasons. A giant white and gold coat of arms with dragons, doves, ivy, and a huge "W" split down the middle as the high gates opened.

"Welcome to your new home, dear," said the snowy owl woman. "A room has been prepared for you in the Academy, behind my house. Since you're just in time for the spring semester, you'll have to settle down promptly and choose your classes by Monday morning."

We drove past the _house_ on the hill which was actually a huge mansion. The school was behind the back gardens, and it was at least three times the width of the family home.

The chauffer opened the limousine door. A girl was waiting for us.

"Janet, this is our dear Mimi," said the woman. "She'll show you around. Mimi, darling, make sure Janet gets something to eat after the tour."

"I will," said Mimi. "Come on, Janet. There's a lot to see."

The Academy was an enormous four-story complex with a large dome in the middle flanked by two very long wings. It was obvious that modern additions had been made to the original building. There was a giant round auditorium in the dome section. That part of the building was connected to the wings by glassed-in walkways with black and white checkerboard marble floors. The walkways reminded me of oversized hamster tunnels. The west wing had every kind of facility imaginable. There were classrooms, function rooms, conference rooms, gymnasia, libraries, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, martial arts and weapons training rooms, and a cafeteria. There was also a large garage in back with some cool bikes and very expensive limos. The living quarters in the east wing could sleep hundreds of people.

"Let's drop off your stuff before we eat," said Mimi as she showed me to a small elevator. "The student quarters are pretty nice. All the rooms have European decors and en suite toilets."

My room was on the third floor. It had Victorian floral wallpaper and sky-blue carpet. A luxurious down comforter covered the bed, and an overstuffed chaise longue was beside one of the arched windows. There was an antique writing desk with an old brass lamp in front of the other window. The windows overlooked the gardens behind the mansion, but I could also see part of the winding driveway that led up to the house.

"You can use that on really cold nights." Mimi pointed at a small space heater on the floor by the bed. "The cleaning lady comes in once a week to collect the laundry and freshen up the room."

"They do our laundry and clean for us?" I asked.

"Yup. It's pretty cool."

"Mimi, who's the woman who brought me here?"

"The White Queen. I guess, technically, she's Mrs. White, but her code name is the White Queen. She's in charge of everything."

"Her code name?"

"Yeah, we all have them."

I had no clue why I needed a code name, but I liked the idea. No one here would ever know my real name. I felt a deep sense of gratitude toward the White Queen. She was giving me a whole new life in this secluded paradise.

Mimi and I went down to the first floor and walked over to the west wing. The cafeteria was an enormous room with lots of windows and long wooden tables. A large buffet was laid out along one wall.

"I hope you like healthy food," said Mimi. "They don't serve junk here. They teach us to _tame our minds and bodies so that we can excel beyond human capabilities_. That's their philosophy."

"It all looks good." I was practically drooling over the huge spread. There were fresh fruit dishes, salads, lean meats, fish, and steamed vegetables. I was starving and I piled my plate with food.

"Boy, you must be hungry," said Mimi.

"Yeah, I haven't had a full meal in a while."

"Don't worry about it. We've all been there. Most of us here were homeless orphans before the White Queen saved us."

"Will Mrs. ... the White Queen be here for lunch? I'd like to thank her."

"No." Mimi gave a high-pitched laugh. "It's self-service here. The White family eats in the mansion ... their meals are served by servants. Don't worry, you'll see her soon. The cafeteria is for students and staff. Just so you know, it's open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but we can stop in to get a cup of tea and toast, or whatever, outside meal times."

* * *

The next morning, there was a note on my desk that wasn't there when I went to sleep. It said I had an appointment with the White Queen in an hour.

After breakfast, I put on my ski jacket and walked through the snow to the front of the mansion. A long blood-red carpet lined with huge marble statues led from the gravel yard up the stone steps. The statues were all birds of prey--eagles, hawks, falcons--in terrifying postures. It was as if they were about to swoop down on me.

The mansion's massive double doors were three stories high. I rang the brass doorbell. A butler opened the bottom part of the left door and showed me inside. I felt small as I stepped into the grand entrance hall.

"Up there and to the left, miss," said the butler, pointing at the oval-shaped double staircase.

I went up the white marble stairs and entered a small antechamber. A secretary was typing away on her keyboard.

"Ah, Janet. The White Queen's waiting for you." She pressed the intercom button on her phone. "Janet's here."

"Send her in."

"You may enter." The secretary motioned to the wall behind her.

I stood up and heard a buzz. I stared confusedly at the silk wall covering and white wainscot paneling. There was no doorknob.

"It's a door, I promise," said the secretary.

I took a deep breath and pushed. Nothing happened.

"Push harder." The secretary smiled.

I had to use all my strength to open the secret door. Once I was inside, the door closed behind me with a click. I was locked in.

The White Queen was behind a large white desk with a leather top. She was reading something on her computer. It was impossible not to notice that she had a particular fondness for all things white. Polar bear rugs covered the parquet floors, and the antique French furniture was white and gold. The furniture looked like it could've been made for the Sun King. I suspected that it had been in her family for generations.

"Janet, my dear." The White Queen stood up and opened her arms. The oversized sleeves of her white mink coat hung down like wings. She looked like an extra-puffy snowy owl as she walked around her desk to hug me.

"Let's sit over here." She ushered me to a white velvet sofa with gold trim. "How are you settling in?"

"Fine. Um ... I want to thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me now darling." The White Queen stroked my cheek. "There will be plenty of time for that later. The work we do at the Academy is very important. It's our job to compel the greatness within you to come forth, allowing you to surpass your potential. Once your studies and training are complete, you'll become an agent in service of the greater good. Your code name will be the Red Hourglass."
The Academy

On Monday morning, all the students gathered in the round auditorium after breakfast. The White Queen was standing at a clear acrylic podium on the stage wearing her full-length white mink. There was a woman sitting in a chair behind her.

"My dear children of the future," said the White Queen as she spread her snowy owl wings. A big ring on her right index finger caught the light and sparkled as she moved her hands. "You are all sisters, and you're here for a reason. When you graduate from the Academy, you will be agents ready to take on the world. We are part of something much bigger than ourselves. Our duty is to serve the greater good. We protect the weak. We shine the light of hope into this dark world. We bring salvation and succor to the hopeless, and recourse to those forgotten by justice."

The girls stood up and started chanting in unison:

" _Rid the world of evils, we must._

_Uphold the legacies of the past, we do._

_To serve and worship, we vow._

_The children of the future, we are._ "

After three rounds of the verse, the White Queen smiled and held up a hand. The girls stopped chanting and sat down.

"Excellent my dears, excellent," said the White Queen. "Now, as it's the start of a new semester, I'll hand the stage over to our Subject Coordinator, Ms. Ellen."

"Thank you," said Ms. Ellen as she walked to the podium. "Ladies, as most of you know, we have very high academic standards at the Academy, but you are also free to pursue nonacademic courses of interest. You must choose at least four classes each semester, and no more than eight. There are also a few modules outside the normal coursework that you're expected to undertake. If you haven't already completed Attire and Social Etiquette, Business Studies, and The Art of War, please leave time in your schedule for at least one mandatory module.

"Classes will start tomorrow, and my team is in the foyer to help guide you in your choices. After the usual head count next Monday, we can discuss any proposed changes to your schedule, should the need arise. Please line up at the table labeled with the letter of your first name ... not your code name."

A few hundred students filed into the lobby. There were girls of every race. I heard conversations in foreign languages and realized that we had students from many countries. It was obvious that the girls shared close bonds and a sense of destiny. They all seemed to be preparing themselves for something great.

I got in line at the table labeled "I-J." I chose six classes: French, European History, the Art of Negotiation, Yoga, Martial Arts, and Knife Combat. I opted for The Art of War as my mandatory module. I was informed that I would study _The Art of War_ by Sun Tzu, and the exam would be reciting the whole thing from memory. I also found out that we had classes for eight months of the year, but we got summer and winter breaks. We could go to exotic places during the breaks and do things like scuba diving and snow skiing. If we didn't feel like travelling, we could stay at the Academy and take fun classes like baking and painting.

Our teachers were from around the world, and we had experts in every discipline. Most of them lived at the Academy, as room and board were provided. I suspected that they were paid handsomely and had to sign non-disclosure agreements.

* * *

I was happy to see Mimi in my martial arts class. She was of Chinese descent, and about my size with long black hair. Her black eyes reminded me of the eyes of a pygmy killer whale. Her code name was the Orca. We sparred on the first day and she became my regular sparring partner.

Our saseong was Mr. Soo Onn. He was a Korean grandmaster and very strict. We were learning the basics of Taekwondo, a Korean martial art that focused mostly on using our legs to kick our targets. Mr. Soo Onn had short black hair and a barrel chest, and he moved with incredible speed.

At the beginning of every class, Mr. Soo Onn made us practice kicks, strikes, and blocks. After we worked on our moves, he would demonstrate combinations that we had to copy, then we sparred. He caught all our mistakes and pushed us to our mental and physical limits.

"You two little girls are lazy today!" he barked in his deep voice. "The combination is left front kick, right front kick, spinning back left roundhouse kick! This is how it's done!" The white cotton trousers of his dobok snapped in the air as he showed us again. "You see, lazy girls? You need form, strength, and speed. I want smooth combinations and POWER! Ten more times ... now!"

Training under Mr. Soo Onn brought out Mimi's fierce desire to win. She started giving two hundred percent every session, and she was hard to beat. Her petite frame allowed her to be quick and agile, and she threw herself into every kick, strike, and move. The intensity of her exertions meant that she always had bruises on her arms, hands, legs, and feet.

Mimi's sheer determination made her impossible to defeat some days. When she was sparring with other people, I noticed that she didn't just hit her opponents, she struck at their very souls. It was like her mind overtook and conquered her opponents' minds. Sometimes when we were sparring, her power was like the waves of the sea, washing over me again and again until the flame of my resolve to fight was extinguished. I realized that her physical prowess and mental strength made her lethal. If I wanted to win, I had to learn from her and build my mental strength.

Mimi and I were sparring one day and I started fighting as hard as I could. I was tired of losing. Every time she knocked me back, I went for her with everything I had.

Instead of being impressed, Mr. Soo Onn wanted more. "Janet, you call that fighting?! I want to see more force! More force!"

I landed a strike and a powerful kick, knocking Mimi off balance. Rage flared up in her eyes and she launched into a savage counterattack. She started kicking me in the stomach, hard. I began blocking her kicks with my forearms and stepping back. She was fast and relentless and I couldn't get in any strikes or kicks. She used a sweeping kick to knock my legs out from under me. I crashed to the floor and she jumped on top of me.

"Stop! Mimi, STOP!" Mr. Soo Onn grabbed her right arm and pulled her off me before she could punch me in the face.

Mimi's killer whale eyes were glowing with fury as she struggled with Mr. Soo Onn.

"That's enough!" Mr. Soo Onn threw her down and pinned her to the mat with his foot. "Class dismissed! Go off Janet ... now!"

That was the day I realized that Mimi had a problem with self-control. If she got mad enough, she couldn't differentiate between training and real life. I remembered overhearing Ms. Ellen say that the White Queen found Mimi wandering around Chinatown in New York City. That's all I knew about Mimi's past. It was an unspoken rule that we didn't talk about our old lives, but I guessed that Mimi's rage gave her flashbacks of bad times on the streets.

* * *

I was a bit nervous around Mimi after the attack, but she intrigued me. She was either in full control and unbeatable, or out of control like the berserkers I was reading about in history class.

After our next training session, I asked her if she wanted to have lunch in the cafeteria. We got our food and sat down at a table by a window.

"Why is the sky blue?" Mimi asked, picking up her sandwich and looking out the window. Her sandwich was the size of her face.

"I don't know." The childlike question from this tiny killer whale made me more interested in her. I wanted to understand her like a specimen. "Why do you ask?"

"The sky and Earth separate humans from immortality. We're only transient beings on this plane of existence." Mimi sounded very Zen-like as she nibbled on her giant sandwich. "If we ever hope to understand more ... about reality ... we need to ask questions."

I contemplated what she said. It sounded similar to something I'd read about Buddhism or Taoism. I figured she must've been reading too many books about Eastern metaphysics.

"Well, the sky is blue because it's blue," I said matter-of-factly. "We're here because we're here. Things are always changing, and it just doesn't matter anyway. So why ask?"

"Out of all the animals, only humans have the self-awareness to question things. That's why we must keep asking."

She was quite a thinker, very philosophical, like a wise old sage. I had to give her that. I took a bite from the apple on my lunch tray.

"How long do you think it will take us to graduate?" I asked.

"I don't know. ... A few years, maybe? Or when an assignment comes?"

"Maybe we're too young to go on missions now."

"How old are you?" asked Mimi.

"Seventeen. You?"

"The same. I only got here a few months before you did. We'll reach the _age of majority_ when we're eighteen ... that's what one of my teachers called it ... and then we can sign legal documents. But we won't be able to drink alcohol until we're twenty-one. I think agents have to be able to go into bars and stuff."

"That makes sense. Anyway, I suppose we still have a lot to learn before we're ready to be agents. So in one, two, three," I was counting with my fingers, "four ... well, in three and three-quarters years I'll be able to drink."

"I don't ever want to leave this place." Mimi looked down at her plate.

"Why not?"

"This is my home now. The world outside is hard ... and cruel."

"Everyone has to leave home one day. When I finally left mine, it was the happiest day of my life." I recalled being behind Max on his motorcycle, riding along the winding country roads. I loved my freedom.

"I don't like killing." Mimi put down her sandwich.

"Sometimes it's the only solution. Bad people make the world uglier than it has to be. When we're agents, we'll be protecting the weak and helpless. And we both know that's going to mean killing people who deserve to die."

"Killing is bad," said Mimi, chewing on her fingernails.

"Not always. Think about it. Not killing can be bad too." I was trying to reassure her, but no one would ever convince me that my stepfather didn't deserve to die.

"According to Buddhism, we should only defend ourselves, not kill."

"Killing is part of self-defense. Sometimes it's kill or be killed. Do you want to be killed?!"

"No," said Mimi. She started picking at her sandwich as she digested my words. "I guess I'd have to kill anyone who was trying to hurt us."

I couldn't believe that I'd managed to convince Mimi that killing was the solution. _I must be learning something in that negotiation class_. I smiled to myself.

"Uh oh," I said, "I'm late for the Art of Negotiation. I've gotta run. See you in yoga class tomorrow."

"See you," said Mimi as she stared up at the ceiling.
Ms. Jefferson

I ran up to the fourth floor and tried to slip quietly into room 401.

"Nice of you to join us, Janet," said Ms. Jefferson. She was standing next to a whiteboard in the front of the room, tapping her dry-erase marker on her hand.

"Sorry," I said. I got a huge whiff of perfume as I walked by Ms. Jefferson and went to a desk at the back of the class.

She was a tall blond woman with a supermodel body. She could've stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine.

"Janet, this isn't the first time you've been late. If you want to stay in this class, it won't happen again."

"Yes Ms. Jefferson."

"Well, class, let's continue. As we've been discussing this semester, negotiation is about getting the best you can out of a deal. In order to negotiate effectively, you have to know what you want out of the deal in advance. In other words, you have to set goals for your negotiations before you start." Ms. Jefferson wrote "GOALS" on the whiteboard with her black marker. "Tell me class, what are some goals that we can negotiate for?"

"Money," said a student.

"Good," said Ms. Jefferson. "We negotiate with our bosses for more money. What else?"

"Fame," said another student.

"Yes. People negotiate with the public for fame and glory. In exchange for their attention and affection, you have to be a worthy performer. And in order to keep their attention, you need to keep performing and treat your audience with respect."

"What about love?" asked another student. "How do we negotiate for that?"

"Ah, love," smiled Ms. Jefferson. "This is perhaps the one thing everyone hopes for. But in order to get love, we have to give it freely."

"Why?" the student asked.

"Love is either there or not. When we're talking about love between two people, it's more of an exchange than a negotiation per se. Both parties must be willing to give it freely. Whether we're talking about love between friends, romantic partners, a parent and child, or whomever, there needs to be a two-way street that allows love to flow freely in both directions. That's the best way to keep the love we find." Ms. Jefferson put her marker on the ledge of the whiteboard and gave us a handout. "Now, let's do some role-playing. Pair up and work through the examples on the sheet. Switch roles after each scenario so that everyone negotiates from both strong and weak positions."

After class, I pondered what Ms. Jefferson said about love as I strolled through the hall. _Most people want more love, but they don't usually give it freely_.

I heard heels trotting up behind me. Ms. Jefferson passed me in a hurry, giving me another whiff of her strong perfume. I looked at my watch. I was late again. I rushed down the stairs to my next class.

* * *

I went back to my room after dinner. As I was sitting at my desk doing homework, I glanced out the window. There was a long line of black limos snaking up to the mansion. I figured that the White family was having a party.

I curled up on my chaise longue to do my reading, but I couldn't help thinking about Ms. Jefferson. She looked like she spent most of her free time working on her appearance. There was no ring on her ring finger, so I assumed she was single. _Had Ms. Jefferson successfully negotiated for everything she wanted out of life_? _With her looks and figure, why was she a teacher_? _Was she a former agent_? I couldn't wait for my twenty-first birthday so I could go on my first mission.

I was sore from training and decided to take a shower before I went to sleep. As I fell into my comfy bed I hoped, like Mimi, never to leave this place--at least not for good.

* * *

There was a new girl in yoga class. She was wearing a light-green top and black yoga pants on her long, lean body. She had blond hair and an infectious smile. There was something fairy-like about her. It was as if she would grant three wishes and then magically float away on a puff of wind.

Mimi was also in the class. She was humming to herself as we did the poses.

Yoga was a relief from intense martial arts training. The stretching and breathing were exactly what my body needed to heal. I decided to integrate some of the exercises into my daily routine.

"Hi, I'm Janet," I said to the new girl after class. "Are you new? I haven't seen you before."

"Oh, you're the Red Hourglass! I heard my mom talking about you. My name's Vanus."

"Your mother?"

"Yes, the White Queen is my dearest mother."

The White Princess was here before me. Unlike her mother, she was a free-spirited bohemian green fairy. I felt a twinge of envy.

"Are you going to the cafeteria?" I asked.

"No. I have to meet Ms. Jefferson for my private lessons."

"How long have you been taking private lessons with her?"

"About a year now. She's an excellent teacher ... a great asset," said Vanus. "Today's session will be the last one this week. Her boyfriend picks her up every Friday morning. She spends the weekends with him."

"She has a boyfriend?"

"Yeah. I've seen him waiting for her in his car." Vanus leaned over and whispered in my ear, "He drives a big black Maserati."

"Well, Ms. Jefferson's definitely practicing the art of negotiation with her boyfriend."

"She's certainty got it right." Vanus's eyes twinkled and a big fairy smile spread across her face. "I'm off now. See you later." She glided out the door.

I was even more curious about Ms. Jefferson now. A swarm of questions was buzzing through my mind. _How did she end up at the Academy_? _What motivates her to share her knowledge with us_? _Does she want to marry her boyfriend_? I wanted to see her boyfriend and his fancy car. I wanted to know where they went and what they did.

Mimi tapped me on the shoulder. "I'm hungry."

"Me too. Let's go eat." My stomach was growling and I nuzzled Mimi's hair as we walked to the cafeteria.

Just as we sat down with our food, I heard the sound of plates smashing on the floor. I turned around.

An agent had swept a stack of clean plates off the end of the buffet. She pushed her way through the crowded cafeteria and jumped onto a table in the middle of the room.

"I've killed the traitor Raven! I have her tattoo!" She was holding a bloody, fist-sized patch of skin between her fingers.

The students gasped as she turned in a circle. She made sure that everyone got a good look at the black raven tattoo.

"Raven tried to run away with her target-cum-lover! I got her! I got her good! Be loyal to the White Queen ... or else!" The agent began cackling like a mad woman and pulling out her hair.

Four agents jumped on the table and restrained her. She was still laughing as they carried her away, leaving fistfuls of hair on the table.

Her maniacal laughter sent tingles through my skin. "Mimi, was Raven the dark-haired senior who always wore black dresses?"

"Yeah"

"And who was that?"

"Misty. She was Raven's best friend."

"My God. She killed her best friend?" I was shocked.

"It looks like it, but she probably had no choice," said Mimi. "Traitors aren't tolerated. The White Queen will put up with a lot, but you better not betray her ... if you want to live."

"But to kill someone, just because they fall in love and want to run away? Isn't that a bit _harsh_?"

"Raven had a job to do. We only target bad people. She shouldn't have fallen in love with her target."

"But Misty was her best friend. And aren't you against killing unless someone's being hurt?"

"Betraying the White Queen hurts her, and rules are rules," said Mimi. "We only serve the White Queen."

"Yeah."

_That's scary_. Falling in love can mean betraying the White Queen ... and death by your sister.
Unofficial Mission

The next morning, I was still curious about Ms. Jefferson. I wanted to know what she and her boyfriend got up to. And after what happened to Raven, I wanted to know if I could escape if I had to. I decided to take a motorcycle and find out.

I snuck into the garage before breakfast and wheeled out a Yamaha R25. When I was sure I was alone, I grabbed a helmet and started the bike. I drove around to the side of the Academy and waited.

Ms. Jefferson got into the black Maserati and I followed it out the gates. The car turned left but I turned right. I rode for about half a mile before doing a U-turn and almost catching up to them. I stayed back about a quarter mile, but I didn't let them out of my sight.

They drove to a huge house that I assumed belonged to Ms. Jefferson's boyfriend. I parked across the street as the car pulled into the garage. I made sure they couldn't see me from the house. A few minutes later, Ms. Jefferson's boyfriend closed the curtains in one of the upstairs windows.

I imagined what they were doing behind the closed curtains. I loved the thrill of seeing but being unseen. _Maybe I was born to be an agent_.

* * *

I was back at the Academy by five that evening. The security guards stopped me and made me get off the bike. They searched me thoroughly.

"You're in hot water young lady," said one of the guards as the gates opened.

Simone, the automotive teacher, was waiting for me in the garage. "How dare you leave the grounds without permission!" She yanked off my helmet. "The White Queen _knows_ people!" Simone's face was as red as her dyed hair and spit was flying out of her mouth. "She's going to lock you up for good for trying to escape!"

"I didn't escape. I just wanted to go for a ride. I miss riding, feeling the wind. I'm really sorry."

"Shut it girl. If I were the White Queen I'd have you flogged in front of all the students. Come on. I'm taking you to her office."

_What if the White Queen thinks I betrayed her_?

Simone grabbed me by the arm. She marched me over to the mansion and stomped up the white marble stairs. Simone walked into the secretary's small office and pushed open the hidden door.

The White Queen was reclining in her white chaise longue, admiring her moonstone ring. "Thank you, Simone. You can leave us." She continued looking at her ring, moving it around so that the light hit it from different angles. "My dearest Janet, while I do love your _spirit_ , you know I can't condone what you've done. We were worried sick when we couldn't find you. Fortunately, the CCTV cameras at the gate proved that you hadn't been abducted. But tell me, why in the world did you follow Ms. Jefferson?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I'd just planned to go for a quick motorcycle ride. But then I saw Ms. Jefferson get in her boyfriend's car and I thought it would be fun to follow them. I wanted to know what it feels like to be on a mission."

"Ah, that's excusable. I had faith that my Red Hourglass wouldn't run away from me, but I'm glad that you returned home."

"I'm sorry Mama. I wasn't thinking. I would never leave you."

"I know my darling. Ah, the folly of youth." The White Queen puffed up as she took a deep breath. "Next time you want to go for a ride, ask Simone. And promise that you'll talk to me before assigning yourself more missions."

"I promise," I said.

"Very well, but I still have to punish you. There are consequences for impudence. What do you think would be a fair punishment?"

"I could scrub the grease stains off the garage floor. It would take me all weekend ... at least."

"Fine. I'll let Simone know that you'll be at the garage after breakfast tomorrow morning. Make sure to complain about your punishment at dinner. We can't let anyone think that you've gotten away with this scot-free. Now, you must be starving. Go feed yourself."

"Yes Mama. Thank you."

My stomach rumbled. The White Queen had given me a safe home where I was looked after. She truly was my new mother and I would never leave her. I couldn't wait to be an agent, to be a force for good in the world.

* * *

Over the next three and three-quarters years, I completed my education and agent training. We were coached in martial arts, but my love of blades was firmly entrenched by then. I chose knife fighting as my specialty. I'd taken some kendo and fencing classes, but I much preferred the intimacy of smaller blades. Nothing beat being close to a target.

My knife coach was a former military officer. He drilled it into our heads that a second makes all the difference between life and death in a knife fight. We practiced deploying our blades in combat situations for twenty minutes at the start of each class. Once I'd mastered whipping a dagger out of a sheath around my shoulder or leg, I practiced getting my switchblade out of the sole of my stiletto and flicking it open in less than a second. I worked hard to master knife skills, and I was confident that my blades would never let me down.

I felt a strong bond with all my sisters by the time I graduated, but Mimi and Vanus were special. We were all around the same age, and we'd helped each other with everything. I trusted them with my life. I'd even told them about my missing mother. As a special graduation gift, the White Queen promised me that she'd do her best to find out if my real mother was dead or alive.
Mr. Cheap Poker

One of my most memorable solo assignments was a jerk I called Mr. Cheap Poker. I spent weeks playing poker in underground clubs to prepare. I learned that I was very skilled at manipulating hearts to get what I wanted, and I loved the thrill of winning. The queen of hearts became my favorite card.

I was the only lady on the table most of the time. I played with huge rolls of bills, no chips. The men always tried to bluff, but I'd usually figure them out and win the round. They also tried all sorts of funny business to get me in bed. I'd humor them while we were at the table so I could take all their cash, but I never slept with any of them.

The night Mr. Cheap Poker finally sat down at my table, I needed a way to get his sympathy. Over the next few rounds, I purposely lost all my money.

"Need some cash there little lady?" Mr. Cheap Poker asked, shoving a stack of bills in my direction.

"In exchange for?" I asked with a foxy smile and a raised eyebrow.

"A private game of strip poker," he said.

All the players looked at me, awaiting my response.

"I accept."

"Good. Very good." He gave me a wide grin and his black buck teeth rested on his lower lip.

Like a lamb to the slaughter, this malignant creature had no idea what was in store for him. The way he puffed on his smelly cigar like a greedy child reminded me of my stepfather. _I'm going to enjoy this._

I played my weak hands and folded my strong hands. It didn't take too many rounds to lose all the cash he'd given me.

He snuffed out his cigar, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back to his cheap motel room around the corner. He slammed the door behind us and locked it.

The room stank of smoke, and he reeked of alcohol and sweat. I called on my agent training--controlling my mind and body--to keep from gagging in disgust. I could've just done what I came to do without playing the game, but I was going to relish this. Some men deserved to be tormented, and I took great pleasure in seeing them squirm like weasels.

He opened a bottle of scotch and had two shots before pouring me a drink. "Cheers," he said as he threw back his third shot and handed me a glass.

He dealt the cards and used all the cheap, dirty tricks in the book. He bluffed, cheated, and lied to convince me that my winning hands were losing hands--as if I didn't know the rules and believed that a straight was stronger than a flush.

I couldn't be bothered arguing with a pig that would stoop so low, and I had no desire to see Mr. Cheap Poker strip. He was disgustingly obese and I feared for my sight if I had to see him naked. There were rolls of fat hanging around his neck, middle, and off every limb. I could've pulled the flabby skin from his arms around his face and suffocated him with his own fetid flesh. I let him win every time, folding strong hands if I had them.

I was ready for this game. I'd made sure to wear a ton of accessories--earrings, necklaces, bangles, watches, and rings. After every round, I peeled off one piece of jewelry. He was gagging to see me naked, and I was having fun making him wait.

"You're taking too damn long!" he chided me after the seventh hand, pouring himself another drink. "If you pull every piece of shiny silver off that gorgeous little body of yours one by one, we'll be here until next week! You lost a lot of my money and you better start taking off your clothes!"

"You're right." I slipped off my shirt before the next hand.

He was having a hard time controlling himself as he stared at my tits squeezed into my bra. I folded my four of a kind.

"I love playing with girls." He sneered. "You bitches can't win at poker even if your lives depend on it."

"Shut up and play," I said, stripping off my pants. He was really starting to annoy me now.

I lost again and removed my bra. I was down to my schoolgirl panties. He dealt me a really bad hand, so I played it. I genuinely lost the last round to his four of a kind.

"You're bad at this, little girl."

"Not as bad as you are." I bit my lip and felt for the switchblade in my panties. I detested this man who had no respect for women.

"I am a bad man." He smiled, exposing his black teeth. He took a deep pull on his cigar and blew the thick smoke in my face. "I am a bad, bad man."

"Down to dirty business now, huh?" I said softly.

"Hell yeah. Hurry it up you slut. I'm ready for the show."

He drank the last of the scotch straight from the bottle and flopped his blubbery body on the bed like a beached whale. His face was growing redder and the bluish veins on his forehead were bulging as he stared at me. He looked like a ticking time bomb ready to explode any second.

I turned my back to him and bent over very slowly, showcasing my assets as I slid my fingers into the waist of my panties and grabbed my blood-red switchblade. I turned around and leaned over. He was distracted by the two melons hanging right in front of his eyes, and my long locks blocked his view of my hands.

I flicked open my blade and slashed it across the purple veins on his right wrist, then I slashed his left wrist. He screamed and tried to clutch his wrists as blood spewed out like two red fountains.

"You goddamn whore!" he yelled hoarsely as he lunged at me, spraying blood around the room.

He managed to get his fat fingers around my neck, but he was severely weakened from the alcohol and shock. He tried to crush my windpipe, but all he did was drench my pale flesh in blood. He soon let go and dropped back onto the bed like a heap of boiled of bacon.

His face turned blue and I knew it wouldn't be long. The life left his eyes and the rest of his blood drained away, spreading in bright red patches over the white sheets. The room was shrouded in scarlet.

The murder scene was deeply disturbing, but only because he reminded me of my stepfather--his alcoholism, his cigar, his violence, and the total disregard for women. Bloody sunflower fields filled my vision and I understood why the White Queen wanted him dead. This piece of filth didn't deserve to exist.

I dialed Vanus. "Send the clean-up crew."
The Mission

I took a cab to Penn Station in Midtown and got the next train. It was an hour-long journey from Manhattan to Cold Spring Harbor.

I walked out of the station and saw a familiar white Mercedes-Benz. The white-gloved chauffeur put my suitcases in the trunk and opened the back door. The blank expression on his face seemed to be frozen in place. I got in and stroked the soft leather seat with the tips of my fingers.

"How are things?" I asked the chauffeur as he sat into the driver's seat.

He didn't respond. I wondered if I was in trouble, but then I remembered that none of the chauffeurs had ever spoken to me.

I pressed the button to open the window and took a deep breath. The fresh country air smelled amazing. It was a relief from the smog and grime of the city. I leaned my head back and the cool breeze swept over me. I'd been living in the city for so long that I'd forgotten how easy it was just to be in the country. There were no police, no sirens, no screams. I was safe. The fields of green grass turned into a blur as I drifted to off to sleep.

I awoke half an hour later, just as the car pulled up to the white metal gates with the gigantic white and gold coat of arms. Two security guards came out of the gatehouse. They scanned the car for explosives and verified my fingerprints and iris scan--the usual procedure. After I was cleared, the guards let me get back in the car and they opened the gates.

As we made our way toward the mansion on top of the hill, I thought about the years I'd spent living and studying at the Academy. Those were the sweetest memories I had.

The chauffeur parked at the red carpet and opened the back door. "I'll have your suitcases delivered to your room. The White Queen's waiting for you," he said.

I walked along the red carpet lined with the ominous marble statues of birds of prey. They were no less intimidating than the first time I walked between them as I approached the mansion's huge double doors.

I rang the brass doorbell and the butler opened the bottom part of the right door. He motioned for me to go upstairs.

I walked up the oval-shaped double staircase and went into the antechamber outside the White Queen's office.

I heard the familiar buzz in the wall behind the secretary and I pushed on the hidden door with one hand. I remembered the first time I was here and could barely shove it open with all my strength.

"Janet, darling." The White Queen stood up behind her desk and opened her arms. She was wearing her usual floor-length white mink coat and the giant moonstone ring on her right index finger.

"Hello Mama. I got rid of that nasty man last night." I walked around her large white desk with the leather top and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She still reminded me of a snowy owl.

"I know sweetheart, thank you. Vanus told me you did an excellent job ... although you left quite a mess for the clean-up crew."

"Sorry."

"Don't be silly my dear. The girls thought you must've had some fun with the target, that's all. Sit, sit. Did you have a nice journey from the city?"

"Yes. It's good to be home," I said as I sat in one of the large chairs in front of her desk. A fluffy white Persian cat was sitting on the floor licking its paws. He jumped onto my lap and looked at me with his golden eyes, demanding attention. I stroked his silky fur. He gave a soft meow and began to purr.

"Oh dear, look at those dark circles around your eyes." The White Queen came around her desk and sat down in the chair next to mine. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you? What's troubling you?"

"The police ... the sirens. I've killed a lot of men. Sometimes I can still hear their screams. I'm afraid of getting caught by the police. ... And what if the rest of the mobsters come after us?"

"Lovey, the mobsters were bad, bad men." The White Queen took both my hands in hers. "You and Mimi did a good job getting rid of them. The police are greatly indebted to us now ... more so than usual. The mobsters are our enemies, but the police are our friends. Life is about trades, darling." She looked down and began rubbing the insides of my palms with her thumbs. "I have an arrangement with the police. I offer them things that are much, much more valuable than the small favors I occasionally ask of them. And I settle everything else with the police commissioner over _tea_. You needn't worry about these things, but if the police ever arrest you, you'll be released as soon as I speak to them. Mama takes care of her girls. You know that, yes?"

"Yes Mama ... but ... we were almost killed when the mobsters found out that we're your agents." I pulled my hands away. She was squeezing them a bit too hard. Mimi and I had taken out seven mobsters without any help. If Vanus hadn't found us immediately afterward, I would've died.

"I'm sorry that happened, but it couldn't be helped." The White Queen stood up. She pick up her cat and held him up to her face. "My lovely little puss puss." She tried to kiss him with her thick, wet lips but he struggled wildly until he escaped her grip and ran under a table.

"My dear Janet," said the White Queen in a soothing voice as she sat down behind her desk. "You're a highly skilled agent. You've been trained to protect yourself, and that's exactly what you did with the mobsters. And Vanus was looking out for you ... she got there in time. Darling, life, by its very nature, is full of many perils. Now, can we put those evil men behind us and look to the future?"

"Yes Mama."

"Excellent. I'm sure you'll be happy to know that you'll be staying here for the next six months. You'll be far away from any danger as you train for the next assignment."

"What will I be training for?"

"Secretarial work."

"Secretarial work? I know nothing about that. Are you sure I'm the right agent for the job?"

"My dear one, of course you're the right agent for the job. We've employed an administrative specialist to teach you everything you need to know about secretarial work and then some. But I'd also like you to join martial arts and knife combat classes ... to keep in practice. The specialist has set up an office downstairs for training. You'll both live here in the mansion for the duration of the course."

"What's the mission?"

"You'll be going undercover at Wilmar Enterprises," said the White Queen. "I need you to get inside information."

"Why?" Most of my previous missions had been pretty straightforward--a single target, find out his daily habits, and then get rid of him. I had no clue about going undercover long-term, never mind working full-time in a big company.

"Their rapid growth is decimating established inner city communities. Mom and pop businesses and longtime renters are losing their leases as Wilmar buys up entire city blocks and throws them out into the streets. How are those people supposed to make their livings? Where will the people who lose their homes live? Large-scale, corporate gentrification is bad for the people we've vowed to protect. We need to identify Wilmar's investors, and then we must figure out how to stop the inhumane expansion of their empire at the expense of ordinary people's lives."

"I understand," I said. "But I don't think I can do it alone. Will any of my sisters be at Wilmar with me?" I clasped my hands and squeezed my fingers tightly. I didn't like the idea of being in a heartless corporation all on my own.

"Yes sweetheart. We have other agents there now. Mimi's working with her own instructor, and you'll both be applying for jobs at Wilmar in about six months. Of course, you must not reveal your previous relationships with your sisters. That would compromise the mission. But it will be fine if you act as though you've met on the job and are friendly work colleagues. Everything else will be taken care of. "

Mimi was pretty careless on the mobster mission, but I was still glad to know that she'd be with me in Wilmar.

"Do you have any questions?" asked the White Queen.

"Just one. Do you remember the special graduation gift that you promised me?"

"Ah, that. Yes." She took an envelope out of her desk drawer and slid it across to me. "One of our spies found that in your stepfather's abandoned house."

"What is it?" An image of my stepfather's rotting corpse flashed through my mind. I wanted to ask if the body was still in the house, but I was sure I was being ridiculous.

"Open it and find out." The White Queen smiled as she polished her moonstone ring on the edge of her mink coat.

I tore open the envelope. It contained my biological mother's birth certificate. Her full name was Matilda Ann Summers. I'd been thinking about her a lot since the mobster mission. For the first time in years, I was starting to feel like I'd do anything to find her again.

"Have you found out anything else about her?" I asked.

"Since we now know her full name, it's only a matter of time. Our spies are searching for her last known residence as we speak. My dear, I promise you that we'll know where she is by the time you complete the next mission."

"Thank you Mama."

"The best way to thank me will be to make sure that we stop Wilmar's expansion." She held out her hand and looked at the glittering moonstone ring from different angles. "Pretty thing, isn't it?"

"Yes. Who gave it to you?" I didn't mean to ask, but I was curious and couldn't help myself.

"Ah, well, that's my little secret. But you're correct to think it was a gift ... a prized gift." She circled a finger around the surface of the ring and kissed it. "A very prized gift."
Application

I left the Academy and went to my new studio apartment in Lower Manhattan. It was barely furnished, and the fire escape blocked my view of the zigzagging steel fire escapes on the backs of other buildings.

The White Queen instructed me to call Vanus as soon as I reached the city, but I freshened up and polished my nails first. It was about four o'clock before I made the call.

"It's me," I said.

"Janet, there you are. I've been waiting for your call." Vanus sounded bubbly and happy, like a fairy. "Let's meet at the usual spot."

I ran downstairs. The midsummer heat and glare were unbearable. I pulled a pair of shades out of my tote bag. The sun immediately began searing my exposed skin and I crossed the street to escape the burning rays.

I peered through the window of The House, my favorite bohemian café. A barista was behind the counter making an espresso at an antique copper and brass cappuccino machine. I was looking for signs of a spy, but there were only a few students huddled around a corner table. The place was oddly quiet. In fact, it was downright somber.

Vanus was sitting in the corner opposite the students, reading a magazine. She was wearing her usual green shirt and jeans. Her dress sense was so unlike her mother's penchant for all things white. There was half a glass of iced latte on the table, along with a laptop and a few newspapers.

"Hey, Vanus," I said softly.

"Janet! Do you want an iced latte?"

"Can I just drink some of yours?" I asked, picking up her glass. I was nervous about my first big undercover mission and I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"Help yourself." She smiled.

The milky iced latte was cool and refreshing. I'd missed the delicious coffee at The House.

"What's up?" I put down the glass.

"Here are your documents, instructions, and new phone." Vanus handed me a bulky envelope. "I also have your secure laptop and homework. You'll need to read the highlighted articles in these papers." She pointed to the newspaper on the table. "It won't be easy to replace the documents quickly, so don't lose them. And don't forget to destroy the instructions once you've read them."

"I won't." I slipped everything into my bag as police sirens sounded in the distance. "I better get going."

"Wait a sec. Tell me, honestly, are you fully recovered from that mobster mission?" She sounded concerned.

"I'm fine," I lied. I would've died that day if Vanus hadn't rescued us. _If I'd died maybe I'd be with my mother now_.

"Be careful ... play it safe. Okay?"

"I'll try."

"You're not alone on this job. Don't forget that. Call me if you have to." Vanus reached across the table and touched my arm.

"Thanks Vanus."

I walked on the shady side of the street back to my apartment. As soon as I got inside, I looked through the envelope. It contained instructions, a New York state ID, a passport, a university transcript, and a résumé. My new name was Scarlet Walters and my new birthday was October thirty-first. _I was born on Halloween, that's easy enough to remember_.

I looked through the newspapers and found one of the highlighted articles.

_WILMAR EXPANSION_

_Wilmar Enterprises has been acquiring properties on prime land around Brooklyn and Manhattan. Plans are underway to redevelop the dilapidated properties into upscale condos and shopping malls. A few thousand residential and business tenants will soon be displaced to make way for the new developments._

_Wilmar Enterprises CEO, Johnson Wilmar, said, "We will continue to acquire land on the East and West Coasts of the US for redevelopment."_

_Wilmar Enterprises is a major property developer in the United States with subsidiaries in logistics, telecommunications and renewable energy. Their combined portfolio is currently worth $200 billion._

The sun was long gone by the time I finished reading all the articles about Wilmar. The articles were mostly about how great the investments would be for property prices. Only a few even mentioned the families and small businesses that had been in those neighborhoods for generations.

I was getting hungry, but the kitchen cabinets and fridge in my new apartment were bare. I didn't like living in an apartment with no food, it made me feel queasy.

I grabbed my shopping bag and went downstairs. It was a bit cooler, but still hot. The street was filled with rainbow neon lights from the shops, and the evening breeze carried the sounds of traffic and sirens. The sirens reminded me of the muffled screams of my targets as they choked on their own blood. I missed the tranquil surroundings of the Academy.

I walked by The House and it was closed. _That's strange_. It was usually open late. I noticed a note on the door.

_Dear Patrons,_

_We've lost our lease and we've been forced to close our doors._

_We want to thank our loyal customers for your wonderful support over the last twenty years._

_We'll miss you all._

_Sorry,_

_The House_

_I wonder if Wilmar Enterprises is behind this_.

Walking into the air conditioned bodega on the corner was a relief. I went to the grocery aisle and loaded up on bread, milk, ground beef, beans, soup, canned tuna, and canned vegetables. As I walked by the canned corn I was reminded of how much I hated the color yellow. I despised all things yellow, shiny, and bright--the sun, sunflowers, lemons, corn. Most people thought yellow was bright and cheery like a sunrise, but to me it was the dull, yucky color of vomit. I hated yellow so much that I usually closed my eyes until everything yellow disappeared. I wanted to rush out of the store, but I forced myself to go to the counter and pay for my groceries.

Memories of my mother flooded over me as I walked back to the apartment. I couldn't get the image of her walking away from me out of my mind. Her white dress was flowing behind her as she walked through the sunflower field, toward the setting sun.

I'd tried to find her for so long that I hated to be reminded of her out of the blue. I no longer remembered what she looked like. I detested her. _Did she ever look for me_? _Maybe she's dead_. I could put my search to rest if the White Queen handed me her death certificate, or if I found her grave. Until then, I'd be haunted by my fading memories.

I climbed the stairs to my apartment and put away my groceries. Then I warmed up a can of soup and ate it out of the pot.

A black and white cat appeared on the fire escape outside my kitchen window. I figured it was a stray. I opened a can of tuna and put it on the window ledge before I unpacked my suitcases.

I got the envelope and my laptop and sat down on the floor. I looked at my instructions written in agent code. I had to apply to be the secretary for Wilmar's chief security officer. _Easy enough_. The cat was still sitting in the window as I destroyed my instructions in the kitchen sink by running water over the page--all our agent communications were written in code with a fountain pen.

According to Wilmar's website, Conan W. Casey was the chief security officer. His photo on the site was only a headshot, so I googled him. The first result was a picture from a magazine. I clicked to enlarge the photo. He looked handsome and sophisticated--but tough--in his designer suit. _Nice_. He had a slender build and his gray eyes gave him a wolf-like quality. I guessed he was in his thirties. There was a short blurb under the photo.

_Conan W. Casey, chief security officer at Wilmar said,_

_"We're currently engaged in a hiring drive across the organization. As CSO, my focus is on hiring more security guards to watch over our newly acquired properties._ "

I was suddenly much more interested in starting this new job. _Working for a suave, sexy, powerful boss might not be so bad after all_. The White Queen hadn't mentioned anything about killing on this mission, so as long as Mr. Casey's security guards didn't turn on me, I figured it would be a piece of cake. I just had to get into the company, get the information the White Queen wanted, and then return home. _Easy_. _The spies should have more information about Matilda Ann Summers by then_.

* * *

The next morning, I wrote my cover letter to apply for the position. Once I was satisfied, I emailed the letter and résumé to Wilmar. One of my sisters was posted in HR and I knew I'd at least get an interview, but the wait was still torturous.

The White Queen sent over some furniture and a bunch of boxes with stuff for the apartment. I spent the next few days organizing the place, shopping for my new work wardrobe, and preparing myself to go undercover as Scarlet Walters. The black and white cat came to the kitchen window most nights. I started feeding it regular cat food and calling it Milky, but it never stuck around for too long. All in all, I was kept busy enough, but I still checked my phone for missed calls every half hour.

The call from Wilmar finally came. I was to go in for my interview in two days. I reviewed my books and practiced answering potential interview questions in the mirror. I was as ready as I could be for Mr. Conan W. Casey.
Interview

I wore a knee-length skirt, a white blouse, and blazer for my interview. To complete the new look, I put on a pair of brown, square-rimmed glasses.

I took the subway to the Upper West Side and exited at Eighty-sixth Street and Broadway just after eight. The Wilmar complex was two blocks away, on Seafront Boulevard. It consisted of six futuristic glass towers connected by skyways.

I stood at the main entrance and looked up. The flowing water of the Hudson River was reflecting off the giant bluish tower. _I'm here to get the job. That's what I'm here for_. I took a deep breath and clenched my fists as I walked through the glass doors.

There were armed security guards dotted around the large lobby. It smelled like air freshener, and three cleaners were pushing around their carts. The worker rats filed past me, tapping little white cards on turnstiles as they rushed to the elevators.

I went over to the reception desk.

"First time in Wilmar?" the security guard asked, looking down at a list.

"Yes. I'm interviewing for the position of Mr. Casey's secretary. I was told to see the human resources manager, Mrs. Little."

"Are you Scarlet Walters?"

I hesitated for a second. I wasn't used to answering to my new name. Scarlet Walters sounded so ... professional. But this was my new identity, and if I didn't believe it no one else would.

"Yes." I smiled.

"Fill in the information and sign here," he said, shoving a guest book toward me.

"Thanks." I picked up the pen. "What's your name?" As an agent, getting to know security guards was a rule of thumb.

"Peter," he said with a snort. He was burly and had a gigantic nose.

"If you don't mind me asking Peter," I lowered my voice, "why did the last secretary leave?"

"Nice try lady. Loose lips sink ships and all that," he said, getting up from his seat rather quickly given his size. "I'll take you over to the elevator."

"You can't blame a girl for trying to get an advantage over her competition," I smiled.

"No, I guess you can't," he said with a wink as he touched his security pass to the turnstile to let me through. "Take elevator three up to the fifth floor. You'll see Mrs. Little's office as soon as you get off the elevator. Good luck."

"Thanks Peter," I said as I got in the elevator.

The interview with Mrs. Little went well. She didn't even ask about my education.

"You've made it to the next stage," said Mrs. Little. "Take elevator three up to the sixtieth floor and follow the numbers to suite sixty-fifty. It's a corner office. I'll let Mr. Casey know you're on your way."

"Thank you." I smiled as I left her office.

It was a slow ride up to my next interview. The elevator stopped on every other floor as workers rushed in and out, scurrying like rats around a large glass tank.

I got off on the sixtieth floor, turned left, and went through the door marked "6000-6050." There were offices around the perimeter, but the regular workers only had semi-enclosed little workspaces. I walked along the edges of the white cubicle farm to the far corner of the enormous room.

There was a small seating area with a desk outside the corner suite. The letters carved into the wood sign on the door read: "Conan W. Casey, Chief Security Officer."

This was it. I'd done all I could to prepare, but I still felt uneasy. My feet were stuck to the ground, rooting me to the spot. I pinched my left palm with my right thumb and index finger and thought calming thoughts. It was one of the Neuro-lingistic Programming, or NLP, techniques they taught us at the Academy to anchor ourselves, overcome negative thoughts, and control our emotions.

I knocked lightly on the door. No response. I raised my hand to knock again.

"Come in," a deep, authoritative voice called out before my knuckles touched the door.

I stepped into the office and was greeted by a one hundred eighty degree view of New York City. The black leather and chrome furniture was sleek and shiny. All the files were neatly arranged on shelves by color and size. It appeared that the CSO was an orderly man who liked to know exactly where everything was.

Conan Casey was sitting behind a large glass and chrome desk in front of floor-to-ceiling windows. He was wearing a sharp black suit with a navy-blue tie. Judging by the cut of his suit, he looked like the kind of man who checked himself in the mirror and liked what he saw. With his well-defined features, narrow eyes, and neatly groomed dark-brown hair, he was even more appealing in person that he was in his pictures.

He glanced up from his computer and looked at me from head to toe. "Sit." He pointed to a chair in front of his desk. "Name?"

"Scarlet Walters." I sat down and crossed my legs. There was something unsettling about him. I discreetly tugged the hem of my skirt over my knees.

"I need to pull up your résumé." He looked like a wolf gazing at a dangling bone as he read my fake qualifications and work history. "You're twenty-four and a fresh grad. Well, on paper, I suppose you meet my basic requirements. Tell me why you want to work for Wilmar."

"Wilmar's an impressive organization, a forerunner in its many fields." I clasped my hands over my knee and felt the cold sweat on my palms. "You're expanding rapidly, and I'd like to be part of that growth. I believe I'd be an asset to the company, I ..."

"Enough." He sounded like he was growling and he waved his hand.

I jerked back in my seat, surprised by his tone.

"Why do you want to work for me? What has Conan Casey done to catch your attention?"

I took a breath and sat forward. I was determined to get the job, and I wasn't going to let him intimidate me.

"I want to work in security because I'm a keen observer of people ... and I want to work for you because you're clearly a man of taste. For instance, take your Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso watch." I nodded my head at his left wrist. "It's an elegant yet understated piece that can be worn in the boardroom or at the gym. The reversible case can be turned around to protect the face should the situation call for it. It suits your position and your personality. I commend your choice."

"Go on." Mr. Casey smiled and joined the tips of his fingers in an arch. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk.

"I realize this is an office position, but I like intense situations." I caught a whiff of his fresh cologne as I tucked my hair behind my ear.

"Intense situations?" he said suggestively as he scrutinized me. "You have quite a figure. I'd say you're five foot six and weigh one hundred eight pounds."

"That's inappropriate," I instinctively blurted out. _Damn, why did I say that_? I felt like he was weighing me up as a potential meal, but I had to recover somehow. "However, you are correct. You must have a scale in your head."

He chuckled. _I can make him laugh. This is a good sign_.

"Sizing people up is part of my job," he said, looking me straight in the eye. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's quite all right." I gave him a tight smile but I didn't believe him. I knew it was bullshit.

"The bad news," he said, looking at his computer, "is that you have no real experience to speak of." His eyes darted back and forth between me and the computer. "I need a secretary who can do this job with her eyes closed."

"I interned as a secretary for six months, and I'm a fast learner. If you just give me a chance, I'll prove that I'm up to it."

"Anyone can be a secretary, but _my_ secretary," he said, jabbing his finger on the desk, "can't be just anyone. She needs to know how to keep her mouth shut for starters." He leaned back in his chair and stared at me. "I demand _complete_ confidentiality."

"Mr. Casey, I assure you that you can count on my discretion. I know how to keep secrets." His intense stare was making me nervous. I was beginning to wonder if his last secretary quit because of him.

"Well, Ms. Walters, as you know, Wilmar is expanding. The sitting tenants in our new properties could become hostile after we evict them. The last thing I need is a jumpy little girl who can't field calls from irate ex-tenants. I need to know my secretary won't call me crying if she gets yelled at."

"I understand." I looked down to hide my smirk. _I'd like to show you what I can do with a knife_. "I can handle it. I'll support you in whatever ways you need."

"I need someone I can _trust_."

"Then you've found your woman, sir."

"Mrs. Little will notify you of the outcome," he said. He held my gaze for a moment before standing up.

"Thank you Mr. Casey." He was much taller than I realized. I felt his eyes on me as I walked across the room to the door.

"I'll see you out," he said, stepping around his desk.

He shook my hand with an iron grip and opened the door.

A tall, skinny girl was waiting outside. She greeted Mr. Casey and her shrill voice made my skin crawl.

_How many people will he be interviewing_? _Do I even have a chance_? _If I don't get this job, the last six months will have been all for nothing_.
Waiting

I began monitoring the career page on Wilmar's website. I refreshed the page every hour and saw that more job vacancies were constantly being posted.

I didn't know if I should be disappointed or relieved that the secretarial position in the Security Department was still listed. They couldn't remove the listing until someone accepted the job, and I hadn't been called yet, so I decided it was a good sign. I shuddered to think what the White Queen would say if I wasn't hired.

I wanted to be up to date with the latest Wilmar information. I bought online subscriptions to newspapers, magazines, and any trade publications I could find. Wilmar was all over the national and international business news. The media was buzzing about Wilmar's strong quarterly earnings and positive growth forecasts, and their property portfolio seemed to be expanding by the day.

As I was reviewing my business administration textbook, my phone rang.

"Hi Janet," a female voice said.

"Hey Vanus." I sighed.

"How'd the interview go?" she asked.

"I think it went well, but I haven't heard back. Do you have Mimi's new number?"

"Don't lose hope. The interview was only yesterday, and our people inside are there to help. I'll give you Mimi's number in agent code ..."

"Got it, thanks," I said.

"Call me when you hear from them."

"I will."

Vanus hung up and I dialed Mimi's number.

"Hey Mimi," I said. "Wanna meet up?"

"Janet! You're finally here! Why don't we meet at the park and go for a jog?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you in an hour."

I changed into exercise clothes and headed for the subway.

* * *

Mimi was waiting for me at the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park--she was always on time. She spotted me and waved with a childlike grin. Her shoulder-length hair was in adorable pigtails and she was wearing a matching pink top and shorts. She was as cute as an anime character. Seeing her made me happy.

"Hey Scar ... _Scaaarlet Waaalters_. Your new name sounds sooo seeexy." She gave me a hug and giggled.

"What's your Wilmar name?" I asked.

"Mimi DuPree. The White Queen already had documents with that name, so I guess she thought it would just be easier to change the passport picture than to give me a whole new name."

We walked to one of the paths and started jogging, so no one could eavesdrop.

"What'd you get?" Mimi asked.

"Nothing yet. I've applied to be Casey's secretary. He's the CSO. How about you?"

"I'm Miller's personal assistant. He's the Head of Operations. I start next week. And Liza's in accounts."

"I wonder why they haven't called me yet." I felt a twinge of jealousy and hoped it wasn't obvious in my voice.

"You've never failed a mission," said Mimi. "I'm sure you'll get the job."

"Yeah, but other girls have applied too. Who knows what Casey's really looking for."

We stopped at an empty bench and sat down.

"Janet, they're just girls. They're nothing like us. I know you'll get it. You can be confident of that!" Mimi patted me on the shoulder.

"I hope so."

"You'll get it," Mimi chirped. "I know you will."

* * *

The next few days were excruciating. I couldn't let my mind wander into dangerous territory, so I established a routine to keep busy--read the business news, workout, eat, sleep, repeat.

I continued monitoring the career page on the Wilmar site. I must've refreshed it hundreds of times--I knew it was in the hundreds because every time I refreshed the page I shredded a piece of paper with my blood-red switchblade. A mountain of sliced paper covered the floor next to my desk, and my ream of paper was down to the last few sheets.

The weight of the knife in my hand gave me a sense of security. I loved the sound of the blade flicking straight out of the blood-red handle when I pressed the button. The gleaming stainless steel gave me a sense of control. I enjoyed carefully gliding the blade over my smooth skin and turning it like a spinning top on my palm. The sharp blade concealed in the blood-red sheath was just like me--a deadly weapon hidden beneath a pretty cover.

I practiced my knife skills on homemade ballistic gel that I learned to make at the Academy. The gel somewhat emulated flesh and allowed me to practice _sculpting_. I experimented with different blades--thin, thick, light, heavy, long, short--stabbing and twisting and carving like an obsessed artist trying to make sense of my art ... the art of the kill.

Cutting up the ballistic gel wasn't nearly as satisfying as slicing up my prey. It couldn't give me the same high as cutting up my targets and watching the blood spill from their mutilated flesh as the life drained from their eyes. I especially liked looking at the expressions on their faces before they submitted to death. Each target became a heavenly masterpiece under my knife. If I wasn't armed with my blades for some reason, a dinner fork or knife would suffice. They can both be used to pierce and slice meat. There's no difference between slicing up animals and slicing up humans. _Humans kill animals and I kill humans._ _I guess I'm over the ordeal with the mobsters_.

The phone rang.

"Hello."

"This is Mrs. Little from Wilmar. I'd like to offer you the position of secretary to Mr. Conan Casey. Are you still interested?"

"I am."

"Perfect. I'll email over your employment contract. You start Monday morning at eight thirty. Please bring me a signed copy of the contract first thing."

"I will Mrs. Little. Thank you."

"You're most welcome. See you Monday." She hung up.

_I have to get a new ream of paper to print the contract and I better call Vanus. The White Queen is going to be so pleased_.
First Day at Work

On Monday morning, I arrived at Wilmar a few minutes early. I went to the reception desk to get my security pass.

"I heard you got the job. Congrats," said Peter. "Let me get you your pass. S-C-A-R-L-E-T W-A-L-T-E-R-S." He said as he typed my name with one finger.

"Thanks Peter. I'm so glad to be here."

"First job?" he asked. He wiped his gigantic nose with a tissue and hit return on his computer.

"Well ... I interned as a secretary for a while."

"Just stay on your toes young lady. Rome wasn't built in a day and you'll probably make some mistakes, but don't ever forget that Mr. Casey has high standards." He leaned forward to hand me my pass and whispered, "When he's nice he's nice ... but when he's not ..." Peter made a fist and smashed it down on his other hand like a wrecking ball. "Watch out."

"Thanks for the heads-up." I smiled and waved goodbye to Peter as I walked to the security turnstile. _Well my pass works, that's good_.

I stopped to give Mrs. Little my signed contract before going up to the sixtieth floor. The elevator ride made me feel like a lab rat in an experiment.

I opened the door of the security department and stepped inside. The employees were buried in their cubicles answering calls, printing mountains of documents, and carrying them from one place to another. The whole situation was foreign and unnatural, unlike anything I'd ever known. I was miserable on the farm, but at least I could run and dance without anyone watching.

None of the worker rats took any notice of me as I walked around the clinical cubicles to the far corner. I knocked on Mr. Casey's door.

"Good morning Scarlet," said Mr. Casey as he came out of his office and shut the door.

I still wasn't used to my new name and I froze momentarily. He smelled manly, and with his jacket off I could see his well-defined arms. _Damn_ , _he's handsome_. _Shit_! _What am I thinking_? _I'm here on a mission_.

"Good morning Mr. Casey." I smiled.

"This is your station," he said, pointing at the desk outside his office. "You'll be doing all the normal secretarial jobs ... correspondence, filing, answering my calls, scheduling my appointments, and running interference out here. Don't let anyone in my office without checking with me first, even if they have an appointment. Do you know how to use the intercom and transfer calls on this phone system?"

"Yes."

"Good. Dial nine for an outside line, and there's a list of internal extensions next to your phone. I generally take the important calls ... don't worry, you'll be able to figure out when it's an important call ... and you'll take messages the rest of the time. Each and every call is logged in our system. There's an app for it on your computer. You have to type the caller's name and message into the fields. That's very important. I'll leave a bit of paperwork in your inbox later, to help get you in the swing of things. If you're not busy, I don't mind if you read or go online. However, our system is pretty tightly controlled, so you won't be able to get on any dubious sites, and no using your work email for anything personal."

"Yes Mr. Casey."

"One more thing ... do you have any problem running out to get my lunch?"

"Not all sir."

"Great. By the way, most people here call me by my first name, Conan."

"Yes sir ... Conan." He seemed easy enough to work for, but he was still making me more nervous by the minute. I couldn't lower my guard too much.

"Looks like we're off to a good start." He chuckled. "I want to give you a tour of the department and introduce you to some key personnel."

Conan's long strides made it hard for me to keep up with him without breaking into a trot. He said hello to a few worker rats as he pointed at me and told them I was his new secretary. He finally knocked on an office door.

"This is Kelvin," said Conan as a middle-aged man opened the door. "Kelvin, this is Scarlet. She's my new secretary."

"Nice to meet you Scarlet." Kelvin shook my hand with a firm grip.

"You too." I smiled.

Kelvin was a rather large man, about twice the width of Conan. He looked like he could've been a champion bodybuilder in a former life, but I felt at ease with him. I suspected that he was a gentle giant.

"Kelvin's second-in-command. If something urgent comes up when I'm not around, let him know immediately," said Conan.

"If you need anything, just say the word," said Kelvin.

"Thanks Kelvin," I said. "I have a question. How big is the department ... I mean how many security guards are employed by Wilmar?"

"We currently have over a thousand security guards and we're hiring more every day," said Conan. "They keep watch over our properties, but if anything serious happens on-site one of us checks it out."

"Sometimes we have to rush off in the middle of the night, but we take turns being on call for that," Kelvin said. "Of course, I don't let the big boss go anywhere without his bodyguards."

"Kelvin and I went to military school together. He's my best friend." Conan put his arm around Kelvin's broad shoulders. "He's got my back. Right buddy?"

"That's right boss," Kelvin bellowed as his muscles bulged.

"Now, buddy, if you'll excuse us, I'll finish giving Scarlet the tour."

"Sure thing," Kelvin said with a nod of approval.

Conan introduced me to the rest of the people with offices in our department. There were middle managers, trainers, and supervisors. Most of the security guards worked in teams in the different buildings, and each team had a supervisor who reported to Conan.

"Security's a vital asset at Wilmar. We don't outsource it," Conan said as he pointed out the various emergency exits. "If there's an issue or a security breach at a building, we deal with it ourselves posthaste."

"You mentioned that the network here is locked down, if you will. So who handles internet security?" I asked.

"I'll introduce you to him now," said Conan as we left the department. "Oh, the _facilities_ are just over there." He pointed past the elevators to the bathrooms.

We crossed the hall and went through the door with the "IT Department" sign. The department was completely open-plan with no offices around the perimeter. They worked at desks and tables--not in cubicles--and they had great views of the river.

"This is Christophe. He's our best IT guy," said Conan. "Christophe, meet Scarlet. She's my new secretary."

"Pleased to meet you Scarlet," said Christophe. "Welcome to Wilmar."

He had a light complexion and a lean build, and he spoke with a slight French accent.

"Christophe's from Montreal. He's our resident white hat genius." Conan smiled. "If there's any sign that your computer's been hacked, or if you have any computer trouble at all, report it to him. He'll take care of it."

"I've set up your account and email address," Christophe said as he handed me a slip of paper. "Here's your user name and password. Use them to log into the computer ... and then change your password. You should have access to everything you need through the apps and icons on the desktop. It's fairly straightforward. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out, but give me a shout if you have any problems."

" _Merci beaucoup_." I took the paper and shook Christophe's hand.

"Okay, tour's over. Time to get to work," said Conan with a loud clap.

Conan eyed Christophe as he slunk back to his desk. Conan's clap had gotten everyone's attention, but they all seemed to bow their heads as we walked past them to the door. _I guess I'm not the only one who gets nervous around him_.

We went back to our department and I logged into my computer. The phone started ringing and I spent the morning taking messages and putting appointments in Conan's calendar.

As soon as Conan left for a meeting, I took out my notebook. I wrote down the names and details of everyone I'd met, along with some other notes.

By the end of the day, it was obvious that Conan ran his department with a top-down military command style. He was the alpha wolf. I stood up and looked over the rows of cubicles. _I'm not stuck in a cubicle, but I'm definitely one of the worker rats ... or a worker wolf in Conan's pack_.

The first day went fine. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that I found Conan so unsettling.

* * *

I didn't tell Mimi I got the job, or which floor I worked on, but that didn't stop her from finding me the next day.

"Hey, you got the job!" Mimi said as she walked to my desk.

She was wearing a cute miniskirt and checked blouse. Her anime schoolgirl look seemed out of place in the office. I wondered if she was suitable for the corporate world. _Our sisters in HR must've made sure she got the job_.

"Shh. Keep your voice down. Let's head out before my boss sees us," I said. Mimi was definitely not being discreet. I locked the files I was working on in my drawer and grabbed my handbag.

"Okay serious girl," she teased.

We squeezed into the crowded elevator and went down to the lobby.

"I know a place. Come on," I said.

We went to Café Ristretto, just around the corner from Wilmar. It was crowded, but we got our food and found a table on the edge of the patio. It was noisy enough that no one would be able to hear our conversation.

"So, how's work?" I asked.

"A desk job isn't my thing, but it's fine," said Mimi, unwrapping her sandwich.

"It's different all right," I said as I ate a spoonful of soup.

"Yeah. I'd rather be stalking strangers. At least your job in security is more interesting ... and you can ogle the bodyguards and that big shot boss."

"I met a good-looking French Canadian. His name is Christophe and he's in the IT department."

"Who do you prefer, Conan or Christophe?" Mimi asked.

"I hardly know them, but Conan has this mysterious appeal. I think he's a big bad wolf."

"A big bad wolf! Oh Buddha!" said Mimi in a high-pitched voice. "Be careful there or he might just eat you up." She bit into her sandwich.

"He definitely preys on people." I sipped my coffee. "Any hots for Miller?"

"Miller? Nah. Maybe if he loses some weight and grows some hair!" Mimi laughed. "You'd have to pay me to sleep with him."

"You just might have to ... if it's required for the job," I teased her.

"Oh shut up, that's gross!" Mimi shook her head. "No way! I'd need a million dollars to do that. Anyway, he's married."

"You should tell the White Queen. She won't be pleased."

"Ha. I'm sure I'll be able to complete my mission without resorting to that. Besides, I made her promise that I wouldn't have to sleep with any married men."

"What's your reward after this mission?"

"A Zen retreat." Mimi beamed. "The White Queen said she'll send me to Tibet for a month."

"Cool." I looked at my watch. "We better head back."

"Okay, okay." Mimi stood up and brushed the crumbs off her skirt. "Let's go."
The Secretary

A week into my new life, the monotony was getting to me. I was pretty good at the job, but the routine was like being a rat on a wheel. I was easily distracted. My clear, logical thinking was being disrupted by unruly, lustful ideas.

_In my other life I was a hunter. In this life I'm a secretary. Agent turned secretary_? _I think not. I'll never be able to lead a normal life, to have a regular job. I'll never be able to leave the White Queen._

I was dying to slice some flesh, but there was work to do. I ran my fingers over the stack of mail and papers in my in-box. I replied to any correspondence I could, put aside anything I thought Conan should see, and filed the rest.

When I was finished, I thumbed through Wilmar's internal magazine. There was a short piece on Conan. He was wearing a suit in the photo and he looked absolutely scrumptious. The article said he was a graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point and he had an MBA from Columbia University. _Impressive_. I scanned the article and saved a copy on my encrypted flash drive so I could upload it to the White Queen's Wilmar database.

Conan was definitely gorgeous and charismatic, if not always charming. I wasn't thrilled about having to get his lunch, but I hadn't seen the side of him that Peter warned me about.

I wondered what it would be like to be in a real relationship. I'd never even been on a real date with a man. All the dates I'd had since I graduated were fake. I only went out with men to get things from them so I could complete my missions. _Did Conan's last secretary quit or was she fired_? _Was he sleeping with her_? _Did he break her heart_?

The phone rang and snapped me back to reality. _I have a job to do. I'm here to help the White Queen stop Wilmar's expansion from destroying the lives of ordinary people_.

"Conan Casey's office, this is Scarlet. How may I help you?"

* * *

Christophe began appearing in the security department a few times a day. He usually had something in his hands, and he was always looking for someone who wasn't in the office. He made of point of walking by my desk even though it was in the far corner of the enormous room, and he often looked over his shoulder at me before he left.

I decided he must've been bored due to the lack of women in the IT department, and I took his obvious interest as a compliment. I started returning his glances and smiling at him. I didn't mind playing with men to keep myself entertained.

"So, do you always get lunch for your boss?" Christophe asked, looking at the white paper bag on my desk.

"Yeah, but that's mine."

"Conan is one lucky dude."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he has a pretty secretary who brings him lunch every day."

"I'm sure you can get yourself a nice office and a secretary if you work hard."

"Nah." Christophe shook his head. "That's not my thing. I don't like being stuck anywhere for too long. I prefer my freedom."

Conan walked up to my desk as Christophe was talking to me.

"Did you get my lunch?" Conan asked, giving Christophe a stern glance.

"Yes. It's on your desk."

"Thanks." Conan went into his office and shut the door with a bang.

"Um, Scarlet," Christophe said, fidgeting from side to side. "Do you want to get a pizza or something after work?"

"Sounds good." He was sort of awkward, but I didn't care. I needed something to break up my routine, and having a white hat genius pal could be very useful. Anyway, he was around my age and his faint French accent was cute.

"That's great." He smiled and gave me two thumbs up.

Conan popped his head out of his office. "Christophe, have you emailed me the information on the new recruits that I asked you for _yesterday_?"

"No sir. I'll email it over right away."

"Make sure you do." Conan stepped back into his office and closed the door.

"I'll be back later." Christophe shuffled out of the department with a big grin on his lips.

Conan stormed out of his office and tossed the white paper bag with his lunch on my desk. "This is all wrong!"

_Oh shit_! My stomach dropped and the worker rats looked over their cubicles at me.

"I wanted a tall black coffee and you got me a short white. And you should know by now that I DON'T LIKE TOMATOES. So why in the hell are there tomatoes on my sandwich?" He threw the bag into the trash can.

_How did I make such a stupid mistake_? _Couldn't he simply remove the tomatoes_? _I'd throttle him with my heels if I wasn't on a mission_. I took a breath and composed myself.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again," I said, trying to conceal my disgust.

"If you want to keep your job, it certainly will not happen again." He sneered down at me with his piercing gray eyes. "Now, Ms. Walters, I believe you have yet to get me my lunch."

"Yes sir." I stood up and grabbed my handbag.

"Be quick about it," he said as he returned to his office and slammed the door.

I took the elevator down to the lobby and sprinted across the street to the sandwich shop. _No tomatoes, no tomatoes_. _No wonder everyone scrambles around when he issues orders, but I'm not here to be his bitch._ _I hate this stupid secretary job._ It took me fifteen minutes to get back with his food.

"Here's your lunch." My clammy hand trembled as I placed the food on his desk. I didn't like making stupid mistakes, but I hated being yelled at and threatened. It reminded me of my stepfather. I wanted to cry--out of anger more than anything.

Conan opened the paper bag, took out the cup, and drank a gulp of coffee. "So far so good," he said as he glared at me with his wolf-like eyes.

I had to look away from his penetrating gaze. He reached into the bag for his sandwich and peeled away the wrapper to examine its contents.

"No tomatoes. Good girl." He took a bite of his sandwich.

His praise was a relief. But it still felt like he was chewing me up, not the sandwich. I couldn't care less what the picky jerk thought, but I had to please him if I wanted to keep the job and finish my mission.

"Get to work."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Christophe and I walked to a pizza place after work. There was a huge wood-fired oven in the middle of the restaurant. The cooks were using large wooden paddles to get the pizzas in and out of the oven.

The smell of cheese, tomatoes, and garlic wafted through the restaurant. I couldn't eat my lunch after what happened with Conan, but the delicious aromas restored my appetite.

We sat down and ordered a large pepperoni pizza and two Cokes. The waiter was back with our drinks in no time.

"How did you get into Wilmar?" I asked.

"I won the Hackathon in New York two years ago. Wilmar recruited me after that," he said, chewing on his straw.

"Did you go to college?"

"Nah. College is for losers. I've sort of hacked my way through life. How about you Scarlet? How did you end up in Wilmar?"

"I saw the job on the website and applied. They didn't come looking for me."

"Well I'm glad you're with us now." He smiled and lifted his glass. " _Santé_ ," he said, lightly clinking his glass against mine. "Bottoms up."

"But the pizza isn't here yet," I said, looking down. I wondered what he'd think if he knew I wasn't really with Wilmar.

"They have free refills on Coke. Drink up."

"Oh ... that's a good deal." I drank up.

The waiter refilled our glasses and then delivered a huge, steaming pepperoni pizza straight from the oven to our table. I lifted a slice off the tray, pulling the strings of melted cheese up with my fingers. The pizza was delicious.

"I think I could eat pizza and drink Coke every day," I said.

"Me too." Christophe munched on his slice, splattering pizza sauce all over the table.

Being around Christophe was easy. I was growing more comfortable with him and the conversation flowed. We talked about cool places to see in New York and cheap places to eat around the office.

"Speaking of the office, you know not to use your work email for anything personal, right?" he said. His chin was covered in tomato sauce.

"Yeah. Conan told me that my first day." I dabbed my napkin to my mouth, hoping he'd get the hint.

"I'm not talking about company policy," he said as he wiped his chin.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Wilmar has a record of everything you do on their computers. If you break the rules, they'll eventually catch you."

"Can you actually read our emails?"

"Of course. I can see every keystroke, every file, everything on every computer. And our security passes aren't just about security. They tell the company when we get to work, when we go to lunch, when we get back, and when we knock off for the day. But don't freak out, Wilmar isn't a totally evil big brother corporation. The people in accounting monitor arrival and departure times for payroll, but the company has to suspect you of wrongdoing before they go digging around your computer."

"Well that's a relief." I was thinking of the article from the company magazine I'd scanned and saved. "Are the security passes used to track us around the building?"

"No. They only have RFID chips, no GPS tracking," he said. "But they can find you if you're in one of the public areas where they have CCTV cameras ... or by tracking your cell phone."

"What about other CCTV cameras around the city? Can you see what's on those?"

"Wilmar doesn't ever _officially_ ask me to do that sort of thing, but I haven't met a network or system I couldn't hack yet. So if it's on a network, probably."

"Wow. What else can you do with your white hat genius skills?" I was impressed. Vanus was in charge of IT for the White Queen. I finally understood why the rest of the agents weren't trained up in hacking--it made sense that the White Queen would only trust her daughter with those skills.

"Well, I've built a lot of safeguards into the Wilmar system. So we're pretty secure against cyberattacks and hacking. But that's not what you asked." Christophe finished his last bite of pizza and took a sip of Coke. "If a device is connected to a computer network I can take control of it. Like in our building, I could turn off all the electricity or plumbing anytime I wanted to."

"Eww, don't do it!" I laughed. "Not being able to flush the toilets would be disgusting, and it would suck being stuck on the sixtieth floor with no electricity."

"Don't worry. I'm not about to get myself fired. But if I ever decide to quit, well now that's a different story." He playfully mussed my hair.

"You're such a joker." I giggled as I swiped away his hand. I felt comfortable with him, but not comfortable enough for him to touch me. "So I can count on you for all my hacking needs in the future?"

"You can count on me for anything anytime Scarlet. Will you let me escort you home after dessert ... so I know you get there safely?"

"That's very thoughtful of you. Sure."

Christophe dropped me home in a taxi and I ran upstairs. I locked the door behind me and closed all the curtains.

I hadn't entered any information in the White Queen's Wilmar database yet. I got my notebook and flash drive out of my handbag and sat down at my desk. I opened the laptop and pressed SHIFT+ALT+F3 to access the log in screen. Then I touched my right thumb to the fingerprint reader and keyed in my security code. A question appeared on the screen: "How many swimming pools are at the Academy?" If an agent was being forced to access the database by someone else, we had to answer "01." That would cause the laptop to pull up a fake database and send an SOS to the White Queen. I entered "3." The system was satisfied and the real database appeared.

I made entries for all the Wilmar people I'd met. I put as much information as I could in predefined fields--name, age, marital status, position, time with the company, outside affiliations--and there was an extra field for files and notes. I entered the information I had about Conan, along with a note about his unreasonable temper and the fear he instilled in others. Then I uploaded the article about him from the company magazine. I also added notes to the general Wilmar entry, based on what I'd learned from Christophe.
Let the Games Begin

Conan was waiting at my desk when I arrived for work.

"Do you play poker?" he asked.

"It's been a while." My cheeks flushed as soon as I spoke. _Damn it._ I remembered my game of strip poker with Mr. Cheap Poker. "I know how to play ... but I'm not very good," I lied.

"I like to play with everyone in my department," he said as he glanced down at my short skirt.

"What kind of poker?" I felt blood rushing through my legs. I sat down and began fiddling with papers on my desk.

"Not strip poker, if that's what you're thinking." He chuckled and let his eyes rest on my cleavage for a moment.

"Of course not." I blushed and squirmed in my chair. My little girl had a mind of her own.

"Texas Hold'em will have to do you. I've booked a room at a private club tomorrow night. Make yourself available."

"Yes sir." I smiled.

"I'll be out of the office for the rest of the day. Call my security detail and tell them to meet me in the garage."

"Okay. Have a nice day," I said as I picked up the phone.

After I made the call I ran into the bathroom and splashed cold water over my face. I leaned on the bathroom sink and stared at myself in the mirror. _You're on a mission. Yes he's very hot, but it's just business_ ... _not a kinky date._ _Control yourself_!

* * *

Conan picked me up in a limo the next evening. The chrome handle glistened like a blade.

"Is this yours?" I asked as he opened the door.

"It's one of Wilmar's bulletproof limos," he said proudly. "My guys are in the car behind us."

"I see." I slid into the backseat and caressed the silky beige leather.

Conan was wearing a black suit with a red tie, and there was a long strip of tiny buttons down the front of his white shirt. We arrived at the Tipping Club at eight on the dot.

"Good Evening Mr. Casey," said the bouncer, opening the door.

Conan went to the reception desk and I stood behind him in the dark foyer.

"I've reserved a private room," he said as he signed in and showed his membership card.

"Nice to see you again Mr. Casey." The sexy blond smiled and handed him a key.

She was wearing a black leather corset, a velvet choker, and black leather cuffs. I imagined her strung up like a marionette, controlled by an elusive puppet master hiding in the shadows. I shook my head to get the puppet image out of my mind.

We walked down five stairs into the main room. The exclusive club had red velvet furniture and crystal chandeliers that bathed the room in a soft, golden glow. People were sitting around card tables with green felt tops and tuxedoed croupiers. Waitresses in skimpy, skintight uniforms were serving cocktails.

Conan led me to a private room. His bodyguards flanked the door as we went inside.

The small card room was masculine and subdued, but it still had the feel of a stately European parlor. There was a round table with four leather armchairs, and the only light was from a tiny baroque lamp.

I put my clutch bag on a chair and sat across from Conan, folding my arms. He took a leather briefcase out from under the table. It contained two decks of cards and red poker chips. He divvied out the chips and put the decks on the table. I unfolded my arms and placed my hands on top of each other on the table, like a cat.

"Conan, if you don't mind, can you remind how to play?"

"It's simple." His deep voice filled the room. "Everyone gets two cards that stay face down. Those are the hole cards. We bet, and then three cards are placed face up on the table. Those are the community cards. We bet again and another card is laid on the table and so on until there are five community cards. You make your five-card hand using a combination of hole cards and community cards. Stronger hands win, weaker hands lose. If players fold, the last player in the game wins."

"Ah yes. It's all coming back to me now." When I was at the Academy we had to watch the James Bond film _Casino Royale._ I recalled a line from it: ... in poker you never play your hand. You play the man across from you.

"Let the games begin," Conan said as he dealt the cards with his long, slender fingers.

I was able to bluff my way to victory in a good few games and the chips were piling up in front of me. _My Mr. Cheap Poker mission is serving me well_.

I was dealing a hand and the river left the possibility of a flush or a straight flush on the table. About a quarter of all the chips were in the pot, and I was close to winning everything.

"Are you willing to risk it all to even things up?" I asked. I began playing with my tall stacks, lifting them and letting the chips fall onto each other one by one. I hoped the clicking would distract him.

"All in," he said as he pushed his remaining chips to the middle of the table.

It was my turn to call or fold. His bold move excited me and my little girl started screaming for attention ... his attention. I shifted in my seat and slightly shook my head. I looked at him, searching for a tell, but all I could see were his chiseled features. He focused his gray eyes on mine without changing his expression. I couldn't read his handsome poker face.

"Are you willing to bet that I'm bluffing?" he asked.

"Perhaps." I tilted my head and smiled as I traced the scar on my abdomen with my left index finger. My little girl was trying to take control. Or was he in control of her? _Pay attention to the game_.

"Scarlet, are you trying to entice me?" he asked, looking at my neck.

"Are you enticed?" I played with a lock of my hair. "If you're bluffing, you're a very nasty boy." I wanted to rip the tiny buttons off his white shirt and strip him bare.

"I may be a nasty boy, but I never bluff." He put a long, slender finger to his lips and eyed me.

"You win." I pushed my cards toward him face down. _Why did I do that_? _What's wrong with me_?

"I usually do." Conan grinned as he swept up the pot and counted his chips.

He shuffled the deck and I put my hands on the table, palms down. This man was causing me to make stupid decisions. I hated losing and I wanted to teach him a lesson. A vision of my stepfather's bloody corpse flashed through my mind.

"Do you play poker with other women?" I asked.

"No, only the boys at work. My last secretary didn't know how to play."

"Why didn't you teach her?"

"She wasn't interested. Bet."

I threw a big blind into the pot, hoping for an easy steal. Conan dealt the cards and I raised my bet every time. He matched me until the turn. I smiled to myself when he folded. _I haven't lost my touch_.

"Why don't we raise the stakes?" he suggested. "Triple blind to start?"

"Fine."

Conan put out a triple blind and I dealt. I got two black aces, the strongest pair. He raised on the preflop and so did I. The flop left a pair of kings and a queen on the table. Conan raised again and I knew he had a strong hand. _If he's holding a king and queen he has a full house. That beats two pairs_. There were still two more chances for me to win and I matched his bet.

I dealt the turn and it was a useless six. He raised and I was beginning to doubt my odds. I'd usually fold if I knew I had a weaker hand, but I didn't want to give in to him.

"Check," I said.

"No bet? Getting twitchy are we?" He smirked.

"Wouldn't you like to know." _If he only has a queen I still have a chance to win_.

"I'll know soon enough. Deal."

An ace of hearts appeared on the river. _Bingo_! The community cards were a pair of kings, a queen, a six, and the ace. _There's my full house, three aces and two kings_. Conan was watching me intently, looking for a tell. I was feeling pretty confident, but I remained still and kept my poker face.

"Are you leaving it to chance?" I entwined my fingers. _Please let him fold_.

"I never leave anything to chance. I decide the outcome." He glanced at his cards again. "All in." He pushed all his chips to the middle of the table and leaned back in his chair. "Now Ms. Walters, are you happy to let chance dictate your fate?"

The only chips not in the pot were mine. I had to go all in or fold.

"I try to control my destiny, but I accept fate for what it is. All in. Showdown," I said, nudging my stacks forward.

"Don't make me wait to see those cards."

"Full house," I said, laying my cards on the table.

"My dear lady, I told you I don't leave anything to chance. Four of a kind," he said as he slowly placed his two kings with the pair of kings on the table. "Not only is this a winning combination, it's a rare one."

I gasped. I never suspected that he had two kings. I'd miscalculated and lost everything. I was vexed. _I can't be falling into his trap instead of him falling into mine_.
L'Atelier

" _Bonjour_ Scarlet," said Christophe as he walked up to my desk.

" _Bonjour_ ," I said. "You look sort of ... stressed. Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. Conan just told me to see him immediately."

"Oh. I'll let him know you're here." I pressed the intercom button on the phone. "Conan, Christophe's here."

"Send him in."

"Good luck," I whispered as Christophe went into the office and closed the door.

I heard a loud thump and raised voices. Conan was barely letting Christophe get a word in. It quickly escalated into a shouting match, but I couldn't tell what they were arguing about.

Christophe looked defeated as he left Conan's office.

"Hey moron! You forgot the goddamn file!" Conan screamed as he followed Christophe.

The worker rats were peering over their cubicles as Conan threw a heavy-duty three-ring binder at Christophe's chest. It landed on the floor with a thud.

"That better be back on my desk with EVERYTHING I NEED before you leave tonight. Don't bother coming in tomorrow otherwise," said Conan as he slammed his door.

"He's Mr. Hyde today," Christophe said as he picked up the file.

Conan emerged from his office an hour later. He towered over me and put his fist on my desk. _Oh hell, am I going to get it now_?

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," said Conan. "The kid has a bright future, but he's been making a lot of stupid mistakes lately. I don't want to have to fire him, so I figured it was time to play bad cop ... to whip him into shape."

"Ah."

"Don't worry, Kelvin's taking him out for a nice lunch to smooth things over. Anyway, I need you to go somewhere with me tonight ... strictly business of course."

"Where?"

"I have to inspect the first floor of one our premises, but I don't want the guys on-site to know I'm doing an inspection. Most of the floor is taken up by a restaurant, so we're going to pretend that we're just there to have dinner. Don't go home after work. I'll be back later. Understood?"

"Yes." I wasn't looking forward to it after the way he savaged Christophe, but I couldn't say no.

* * *

The office was empty and I looked at my watch. It was almost seven.

When Conan finally returned he was wearing a smart dinner jacket. _He's dashing day and night_ ... _and I'm obviously underdressed_.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Just a minute." I got a whiff of his musky cologne and I accidentally pushed a few files to the floor as I was tidying my desk. "Oops."

"You're clumsy tonight." Conan bent over to pick up the files.

I wanted to run my fingers through his neatly combed dark-brown hair, and I couldn't help but imagine the feel of his naked body against mine. _Snap out of it_! _You're on a mission. This is NOT a date_! _What is this man doing to me_?

"Thank you," I said as I grabbed my handbag.

"My driver's downstairs. Let's go."

A long black limo was waiting at the main entrance.

"After you," said Conan as he opened the car door. "L'Atelier," he instructed the driver.

There were two armed men in the limo. Conan's bodyguards weren't in the car with us when we went to the poker club. _With this sort of security, it's a good thing the White Queen doesn't expect me to kill him_.

"What type of restaurant are we going to?" I asked.

"French. It has three Michelin stars."

"I see." I stared out the window as we buzzed through traffic, passing flashing billboards and neon signs.

The limo pulled into the curved driveway in front of an art nouveau building. Conan's bodyguards got out and checked the area before opening the rear door. They walked on either side of us and I felt like some sort of cosseted possession.

Conan glanced around at the security cameras in the granite lobby as he greeted the guards. He excused himself to go to the restroom, but I knew he was checking the emergency exits.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Scarlet. Let's get dinner," said Conan.

Conan shooed away his bodyguards as we walked into the restaurant. They stood at the entrance like a pair of crows.

The maître d' knew Conan by name. We were seated at a window table that overlooked an inner courtyard with a lighted fountain. " _Madame_ , _monsieur_ ," said the maître d' as he handed us menus.

" _Bonsoir_. May I bring you something to drink?" asked a waiter with a heavy French accent.

"A bottle of Dom Pérignon," said Conan.

" _Oui monsieur_ , right away."

"Scarlet, I think we should have the tasting menu."

"Sounds good." I smiled.

The waiter was soon back with the bubbly. He filled our glasses and placed the bottle in a sterling silver ice bucket on a stand next to the table. "May I take your order?"

"We'll both have the three-course degustation menu," Conan said.

" _Merci_ ," replied the waiter as he took our menus and scampered to the kitchen.

"To my secretary who's gorgeous even when she's not dressed for the occasion," said Conan, tapping his crystal champagne flute to mine.

"Thanks, I think." I took of sip of the perfectly chilled champagne.

"There's a dress code here to keep out the rabble. They wouldn't have let you in tonight if you weren't with me. You'll have to dress appropriately next time."

"Maybe you should've mentioned that there's a dress code. I'll leave some _more_ _appropriate_ clothes at work tomorrow." _He set me up for this_. _Does this snob get off on humiliating people_?

"Not _more_ _appropriate_ clothes. An evening dress." He opened his wallet and took out a store card for the Lawrence Boutique. "Here. Get some elegant dresses and put them on my charge account."

"If you insist," I said, slipping the card into my bag. _Maybe_ _bimbo Scarlet Walters will get a nice wardrobe out of this. It could be worse._

"I think you'd look splendid in a skin-tight evening dress with diamonds draped around your neck."

"I don't like diamonds. I prefer red rubies ... and food."

"I enjoy food too, although I'm a picky eater."

I wanted to tell him that I'd noticed, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Here's the waiter," Conan said, putting the linen napkin in his lap.

" _Excusez-moi_. For the first course we have caviar, seared scallops, and smoked trout. Bon appétit," said the waiter as he laid the large plates with tiny portions on the table.

When we were finished with the first course, Conan strolled around the courtyard and restaurant, continuing his sneaky inspection.

I stared down at the shining silverware--salad fork, dinner fork, dinner knife, and a steak knife. I touched the steak knife's serrated blade. It was sharp, suited for slicing meat. I resisted the urge to stroke it.

The waiter brought the second course and refilled our champagne glasses just as Conan came back to the table. I poked the tiny piece of veal on my plate with my dinner fork.

"How did you first hear about Wilmar?" Conan asked as he took a bite of duck.

"Wilmar's all over the news these days. I was looking for work with a good company and I checked the careers page" I knew some bosses liked to interrogate their staff outside work, so I was careful not to say too much. "How about you? Why did you join Wilmar?"

Conan looked down at the tablecloth and pressed his long fingers against the stem of his champagne flute. "Johnson Wilmar, the CEO, is my father."

"No job interview for you then?" _So the W in Conan W. Casey stands for Wilmar_. _No wonder he has access to these high-end places_. He didn't just work for Wilmar, he was heir to the empire.

"Not unless you count years of my life as a job interview. I did work in the security department for a few years before becoming CSO. My father didn't offer me the position until I had my MBA."

"Are you very close to your father?"

"We see each other at board meetings." A fleeting look of sadness crossed his face. "I moved out of his house when I went to West Point ... and I never lived there again."

"Why did you choose West Point? Wouldn't a normal college have been easier?"

"I was a wayward youth." Conan twirled his glass and took a sip of champagne. "West Point gave me the structured environment and discipline I needed."

I stared at the glass stem between his fingers. I began imagining what it would be like to be grabbed by those big, strong hands. _You're on a mission, not a date_! I looked at the tiny champagne bubbles floating up to the surface in my glass, trying to refocus my mind. _So he has a family._

"Do you spend holidays with your family?" I didn't want to get drunk and risk forgetting anything, so I took a drink of water.

"Usually. What about you Scarlet? Is your family here?"

"No, they're on the West Coast ... in LA," I lied.

"Do you go there often?"

"No. We don't keep in contact." I glanced down, my stepfather's thundering voice invaded my thoughts.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks, but it's okay." I resisted the urge to play with my steak knife. "Is your family in New York?"

He took a deep breath and looked away. "Yes," he finally said, looking at me with brooding, deep gray eyes.

Our conversation drifted to New York. He said he enjoyed living in the city, but sometimes the frantic pace got to him. I agreed and told him about a woman I'd seen that morning who was walking to the subway with a cup from Starbucks in one hand and her cell phone in the other. She ran into a lamppost and spilled her coffee all over her designer shoes. Conan chuckled and I was pleased that my silly little story made him laugh.

The waiter brought our dessert plates. We each had a bite-sized profiterole, the cutest little _mille-feuille_ I'd ever seen, and a chocolate macaron.

"Tell me Scarlet, what do you do with your weekends?" asked Conan as he tossed his macaron in his mouth.

"Me? I'm a simple girl. I shop for groceries, chill, cook ... the usual stuff. I lead a pretty simple life. It's certainly not as busy as yours."

"Are you seeing anyone?" He put his elbows on the table, clasped his hands, and leaned forward.

"That's a very personal question." My cheeks flushed. _I can't get too close to him. That would jeopardize the mission_.

"Yes, it is. But I need to know if you're seeing anyone who would use you to get to me."

"I may be seeing someone, but it's nothing serious."

"I guess I'll have to nose around."

"No, you don't have to do that. I'm not seeing anyone." The last thing I needed was Conan Casey digging into my life. If he found out about the White Queen she'd order me to kill him.

"Good."

"This profiterole looks yummy." I smiled, popped it into my mouth, and licked my lips. "Delicious."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the menu. It's getting late. I better get you home."

Conan's bodyguards escorted us out of the building and to the limo. They took notes as he told them about his inspection. The limo stopped in front of my apartment building.

"Here you are," said Conan.

"Thank you. I had a nice time."

"It was my pleasure. One of my guys will walk you to the door. See you tomorrow."

"Good night," I said as I stepped out of the limo.

I went inside and bolted up the stairs. I logged into the White Queen's Wilmar database and entered all the intel I'd gathered on Conan.
Invitation

Conan arrived an hour later than usual on Monday morning. He stopped to talk to Kelvin before heading to his office.

"I'm impressed with you Scarlet," said Conan as he approached my desk.

"How so?" He seemed to be cheerful, but that didn't mean much given his mood swings.

"You're efficient, you keep me organized, and you schedule my days the way I like them ... important meetings in the morning and other engagements in the afternoon. You could turn out to be the best secretary I've ever had."

"Thank you. Does that mean I'll be getting a raise?"

"Perhaps in a few months, as long as you keep those tomatoes off my sandwiches and don't screw anything else up."

"I'll do my best." I smiled. _Why did the jerk have to say that_?

"What's on the agenda for today?"

"Kelvin dropped these off earlier," I said, pointing to a stack of files on my desk. "He needs you to get back to him by the end of business.

"Yes, he just told me. What else?"

"You have that meeting in Brooklyn in an hour and you better get going. The guys are waiting for you in the garage. The driver wants to leave as soon as you're ready ... traffic's bad."

"Do you have the file I need?"

"Right here." I handed him the file. "See you later."

"Oh, you have to accompany me to a new building on Friday night."

"Okay."

"Make sure you're dressed appropriately this time," he said smugly as he left.

"I'll be dressed to the nines." _On your dime you creep_. I bit my lip as anger simmered in my chest. I wanted to stomp him with my stilettos.

Conan passed Christophe on his way out. They glared at each other for a moment before Christophe turned and scrambled away.

* * *

I took a cab to the Lawrence Boutique on Madison Avenue during lunch. It was the type of place rich girls with huge trust finds shopped--the sort of place I couldn't even look in when I was living penniless in the subway. I walked through the glass door and was met with the lovely fragrance of a fig-scented candle.

"May I help you find something?" asked the elegant saleswoman.

"I'm looking for an evening dress ... something sexy and stylish."

"Certainly, come this way."

She took me to fitting room and brought five beautiful dresses for me to try on. They were made of the finest materials and fit me like handmade kid gloves.

"They're all absolutely gorgeous on you. Which one will you take?" asked the saleswoman.

"These three," I said, pointing to a red leather cocktail dress, a black velvet halter top gown, and a pale-pink silk chiffon gown with Swarovski crystals on the bodice.

"All three? Are you sure?"

"I am." I handed her Conan's charge card.

"Splendid," said the saleswoman as her face lit up.

I knew the commission would probably pay her rent this month. She put the dresses in a white garment bag with a silk bow and placed the receipt in the pocket.

"Thank you very much, miss," she said as I walked out the door.

* * *

After work on Friday I put on my skin-tight red leather cocktail dress and matching six-inch stilettos. The strapless dress accentuated my hourglass figure and showed off my cleavage. It was sexy, but not too short or revealing enough to be slutty. _This should make him happy_.

Conan wasn't back in the office by seven and I was getting annoyed. My extension rang at quarter past.

"I'm waiting for you in front of the building," said Conan.

One of his bodyguards opened the door of the limo and I got inside. We drove through a sea of yellow taxis to Greenwich Village. The limo pulled up to trendy hotel called Out.

"This is one of our recent acquisitions and we have a lot of on-site security," said Conan. "I've visited a few times during the day, but I want to check that the nightshift boys are up to par."

The security guard at the entrance nodded to Conan as we stepped inside. His bodyguards were close behind us and we all took the elevator up to the sixteenth floor.

The Out Lounge was an upscale bar and restaurant. Conan told the hostess his name and led me to the large terrace with panoramic views of Manhattan. His bodyguards waited inside, keeping a close eye on him.

I leaned on the railings along the edge of the terrace. The city lights were twinkling and the maze of narrow streets beneath us was swarming with people and cars.

"Are you afraid to be alone with me?" I asked.

"No, but there are those who would kill me, given half a chance."

"Why?" I instinctively bent down and felt the switchblade safely tucked in my sole. He had no idea that I could be a danger to him. If the White Queen gave the order, he'd be a goner.

"As the CSO of Wilmar, I've made enemies over the years. Other than that, we have security at our new buildings for obvious reasons."

"The reasons aren't so obvious to me."

"This property probably won't be demolished, but we're anticipating large-scale resistance from a lot of community groups in the not too distant future. There are some major changes on the horizon. We're looking into expanding operations and increasing acquisitions for development, but a few things have to happen first."

"Like what?"

"I've said too much already. You'll know soon enough."

"If things are so dangerous, why are you out here in the open? I mean isn't being in plain view on a terrace overlooked by other buildings risky?"

"I suppose it is, but there are risks in everything," said Conan, looking over my shoulder at the city. "As you know, the bodyguards were Kelvin's idea. I never would've agreed to them if he didn't insist."

"Do you think being with me is a risk?"

"Perhaps, but I negate risks. It's my job."

"I guess that's why your father wanted you to be his CSO."

"I didn't start off as his CSO. He asked me to join Wilmar security after an attempt on his life. I had to work in the department and get my MBA before he offered me the big job."

"Who tried to kill him? Why would anyone want to kill him?" I figured I knew the answer, but I wanted to see if I could find out more.

"Beats me, although I think his rivals are terrified of his ambition ... his plans for total domination. Scarlet," said Conan. He looked down at me. "With your brains, you could be anything you want to be. Why did you want to be my secretary?"

"Sometimes it's easier to be told what to do than to make your own decisions. But that doesn't mean I intend to be a secretary forever." My life hadn't been my own since the White Queen rescued me, and I was getting sick of it.

"Interesting. Let's have drink." Conan beckoned to the waiter and ordered two cocktails. He glanced at his Jaeger-LeCoultre watch and frowned. "Where's the hostess? Our reservation was fifteen minutes ago and we still don't have a table."

The waiter returned with our cocktails and said our table would be ready shortly.

"Tell me more about your past," said Conan.

"My past?" I pondered his request as I sipped my drink. "It's not very interesting."

"Tell me anyway."

"I didn't have a good childhood. My mother left and my stepfather was a violent man." I sighed. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"I respect that," he said. "I didn't have a good childhood either. I was adopted. I hated life at the orphanage, but my adoptive family showered me with kindness and restored my faith in humanity."

"You still have faith in humanity?" My eyes bored into his. I was surprised that he still believed in the goodness of people. "Even with people trying to kill you and having to be followed around by a throng of security guards every single day?"

"I have faith." He finished the last of his drink.

"I'm so sorry about the wait," said the hostess. "Your table's ready."

As I took the last sip of my cocktail I realized that I'd been drinking a yellow piña colada. Visions of blood-stained sunflower fields flashed through my head.

* * *

We found an isolated spot on the terrace after dinner and had a few more drinks. I'd lost count by then, but Conan was relaxed and cheerful.

I began playing with the curled ends of my black locks, giving him my full attention. His pupils dilated as he watched my fingers. He seemed to be mesmerized.

"You ... um ... you ... I'm losing my train of thought here. ... Scarlet, uh, please stop playing with your hair."

"Why?" I smiled.

"Isn't it obvious?" He grabbed my wrists and pulled me to his chest as he leaned back against the railings.

"I like strong men." I kissed his gaping mouth, filling him with desire as I pushed my body against his.

"Mmmmm," he groaned and forced his tongue deep into my death trap.

I stepped back and licked my lips with the tip of my tongue. I'd wanted to kiss him all night. I was sick of being a subservient secretary. I had to show him that I wasn't just another person he could boss around. I needed to show him that I was the boss in this relationship.

"That was unexpected," Conan raised his eyebrows, "and aggressive."

"You liked it."

"Maybe." He laughed.

I pushed my hair back to reveal my bare shoulders. We gazed at each other intensely as my pulse raced. I caught a whiff of his primal cologne. _He smells delicious_.

He swung around and pushed me against the cold railings, kissing my lips with a burning passion. He held my neck with one hand as his other hand glided down to my hip. With his lips locked on mine, he sucked out my breath. I jerked my head away before I fainted.

"I won." He smirked as he ran his hands over my breasts. "I like the feel of you beneath tight leather." He wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed.

The chemistry between us was strong. _I'm starting to like this man._ If put to the test, I didn't know if I'd be on the top or bottom.

"Let me take you home. It's getting late," he said, offering me his arm.

I half-reluctantly grabbed his arm and struggled to walk straight as he led me out of the building.

* * *

I checked Google News Monday morning and clicked on a story about the company. The headline read: "Wilmar to acquire more buildings around Manhattan."

"Taking more interest in the business?" asked an authoritative voice from behind me.

I almost jumped out of my seat. I looked over my shoulder and Conan was standing in the doorway.

"Just curious," I said. My hand was trembling as I closed my browser. "I don't want to be a secretary forever, so I figured reading the business news is a good place to start." _Get a grip girl. Bosses want their staff to be informed about the business. He has no idea that you're on a mission for one of his enemies._

"We have to inspect a new place tomorrow night. Be ready by seven."

"Okay. Uh ... I was a bit tipsy last night. Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He smiled. "I enjoyed it."

"Yes sir.

"Why are you calling me sir?" he asked as he went back into his office.

_What's wrong me with me_? _Why did I call him sir_? _Was it something subconscious_? I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.

* * *

The next night, after everyone else left the office, I changed into my black velvet halter top evening gown with the plunging neckline and high slit. I took off my glasses and applied a light foundation, eyeliner, and red lipstick.

Conan came out of his office just as I got back to my desk.

"You look stunning," he said. "That dress really shows off those legs of yours."

"I like dressing up for you ... just as I like seeing you dressed well for dinner."

"Is that so?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "You surprise me Scarlet."

"I feel the same way Conan." I tilted my head and looked at his strong, rectangular jaw.

Our eyes locked and the intensity between us was burning my skin. I felt electric currents running through my hands, into my body, and down my legs.

"Let's go," he said, glancing at his watch.

The limo dropped us off in front of a building and Conan's bodyguards tailed us inside. He did his usual--chatting with the on-site security guards, looking around, and using our date as the pretext for being there. He checked the emergency exits before we headed into the restaurant.

The restaurant had different themes throughout the week and we were there on Egyptian Night. We dined under the chandeliers in the plush surroundings as a belly dancer danced between the tables.

"Your little shopping spree at Lawrence cost me thousands," said Conan after we'd finished eating.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all." He smiled. "People aren't equal. What we wear is a sign of who we are in the hierarchy."

"What do you mean people aren't equal? What hierarchy?" I'd scavenged like rat in the subway and his words angered me. _I'm a human being no more important or less important than anyone else_.

"You either lead or follow. That's a universal truth. I'm the commander and I subjugate those under me. I have to dress the part, and when you're out with me you have to too. Anything else just won't do."

"I see. I'll remember that next time I go shopping with your card." I was appalled. _Does he think he's superior to everyone_? _Does he look down on me_?

"Touché." He raised his glass at me and winked before finishing his wine.

The waiter poured more wine and I started talking about work. I didn't want to hear more about his _superiority_. Conan was enjoying the Cabernet Sauvignon, and the waiter kept refilling his glass. He was beginning to slur ever so slightly, and I knew this was my chance to learn more about him.

"Conan, what happened when you were young?"

"I was bullied pretty badly in the orphanage." A sad smile crossed his lips and he looked down. "I started lashing out when I was a teenager ... and I hung out with a bad crowd. I was eventually kicked out of school. I was a very different person back then."

Now I understood why he could go from Mr. Nice to Mr. Not Nice in a split second. He didn't have a good start in life.

"Is that why you chose to go to West Point?"

"I don't think I really had a choice. It was necessary if I wanted to turn my life around. I don't do well in unstructured environments, or with unpredictable people. But you Scarlet," he stroked the side of my cheek, "you know what I want."

"I try." I smiled. "Conan, you can always talk to me about anything ... if it helps." I knew he longed for someone to understand him and I wanted to understand ... for myself, not the White Queen.

"Thanks Scarlet," he said with a forced smile. "We should go to El Tango Milonga some Friday."

"I'd like that."

"It's a date then. We'll go this week," said Conan as he downed the last of his wine.
Tango

On Friday night, I changed out of my work clothes into a knee-length maroon dress. I put on a blazer, hoping not to attract any attention as I left the office.

Christophe was standing outside the bathroom door and I bumped into him.

"Are you waiting for me or something? What's wrong?" I asked.

"Where are you going all dressed up like that?"

"Uh ... somewhere. Can you please move?"

"Are you late for a date with your jerk boss?" He leaned toward me.

"Um ..." I said, taking a step back.

He followed me into the bathroom and backed me into a wall.

"Christophe, that's none of your business." I felt the icy porcelain tiles with my fingertips. I tried scrambling along the wall to get around him but he just moved with me.

"Where are you going tonight Scarlet?"

"You're acting creepy. Will you please just let me by?"

"Scarlet, I thought we were friends," said Christophe, stepping closer and pinning me against the wall.

"I'm warning you, get out of my way or you'll regret it!" I screamed as I leaned over to reach for my blade. _I hope this doesn't turn into a bloody mess_.

Conan stormed into the bathroom. "What the hell is going on here?" He grabbed Christophe by the shoulder and threw him into a stall. "What's wrong with you Christophe? Don't ever pin a woman to the wall! Scarlet, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Everything's okay. It was just a misunderstanding. Let's go."

"Are you sure? I can't have a sexual predator working here. You have to tell me what he did," said Conan.

"He didn't do anything and he's not a sexual predator. He's just awkward around women. Can we please get out of here?"

Conan took me by the wrist and dragged me away like a rag doll. Christophe walked out of the bathroom after us and I looked over my shoulder at him. He was being weird, but I knew he wasn't a threat to anyone. Anyway, he was the one in danger, not me.

"Where are your bodyguards?" I asked Conan as we got in the limo.

"I gave them the night off. Don't tell Kelvin."

We pulled up outside El Tango Milonga, a tango social club and school. The club was dimly lit in a red neon glow and the walls were decorated with hand-painted Venetian masks.

"You look ravishing. That's the perfect dress for a night of dancing." Conan's long fingers swept across my cheek and lifted my chin. "Do you know how to dance the tango?"

"No. I don't know a single step of any dance," I lied. I knew how to dance solo, but I'd never danced with a partner.

"Don't worry. Mrs. Anderson will show you the basics. She's a great teacher. First, we have to get you a pair of tango shoes."

An extensive selection of tango shoes was displayed against one wall. The long shoe racks reached all the way up to the ceiling, and most of the women's shoes had, at least, three-inch heels.

"Aren't these heels a little too high for dancing?" I asked a woman behind the counter.

"They help you dance gracefully," she said. "The shoes take a little getting used to, but they're comfortable once you break them in."

I put a pair of blood-red tango shoes on my tiny feet. The leather was stiff and the straps tightly bound my ankles, but they fit well. I stood in front of the full-length mirror and turned in a semi-circle to see how they looked in back.

When I turned around, I noticed Conan's reflection in the mirror. He couldn't take his eyes off me. He walked up behind me with a smile and squeezed my waist, sending tingles down my spine. We looked like we were made for each other. I knew we had no future and I wanted to freeze time. In that moment, we were perfect together.

"The shoes look good on you," he said. "Maybe you should wear them to work sometime. I'll pay for them, and then we can get a quick bite to eat before we start."

We sat down at a table on the edge of the dance floor. The table was covered with a crimson tablecloth and there was a candle in the middle, next to the wine list. I ran my fingers over the dinner knife. The blade was dull, but it could still be used to kill.

A Latino waiter handed us menus. I watched the dancing couples as Conan looked over the wine list.

"We'll have a bottle of Argentinian Malbec," said Conan.

"Yes sir," said the waiter.

"Do you like tapas?" Conan asked.

"I'm not familiar with tapas."

"They're sort of like little appetizers. I'll pick some for us to share."

"Okay."

The waiter arrived with a bottle of Malbec. He filled the glasses and took our order. I had a sip of wine. It was velvety and full-bodied.

A couple was dancing across the floor. The woman's eyes were closed as the man led her around in sync with the music.

The waiter returned with tapas in small bowls. Everything was delicious, but I particularly enjoyed the button mushrooms with olive oil and chilies.

"Look at the woman in the orange dress," I said. "The precision of her toes ... landing in step with the music and the man. She's very impressive."

She was a middle-aged woman with graying hair. Her bright lipstick contrasted with her pale, wrinkled skin. Despite her age, her body was fabulous. She glided across the dance floor as her partner led her in a series of steps and turns in time with the music. Her long, thin legs moved like fast fingers over the keys of a piano.

"She's a good dancer. Do you know her?" I asked.

"Yes. That's Mrs. Anderson, the tango teacher."

"How long have you been dancing tango?"

"Forever."

Mrs. Anderson smiled in our direction and walked over to our table.

"Conan, it's been some time since I've seen you," she said.

"Mrs. Anderson." He stood up and kissed the back of her hand. "I'd like to introduce you to Scarlet. She's new to tango."

"Nice to meet you Scarlet." Mrs. Anderson smiled.

"Nice to meet you too," I said.

"Is this your first time at Milonga?" asked Mrs. Anderson.

"Yes. I've never danced the tango."

"Let me show you some steps."

Mrs. Anderson took my hand and led me onto the dance floor.

"First, you've got to loosen your arms ... lose the tension. Do this," she said as she shook her hands and rolled her shoulders.

I shook my hands and rolled my shoulders.

"Good. Now hold me like this," she said as she put my hand in the middle of her back. Then she put one hand behind my back and the other against my palm. "Just follow the shift of my weight as I move."

I followed her as best as I could. Conan watched us with an intense focus, studying my movements and occasionally sipping his wine. After an hour or so, I'd picked up some basic tango steps.

"You're a fast learner Scarlet," said Mrs. Anderson.

"I'm trying my best." I felt like I was just fumbling along. The dance looked simple, but it was difficult.

"You're ready to dance," she said, putting my hand into Conan's. "Conan, bring her back for my regular class. We wouldn't want those beautiful heels to go to waste."

"I will Mrs. Anderson. Thank you."

I felt a connection with Conan the moment he put his hand on my back and started to lead. There was a rush through my veins and all my muscles contracted.

"Don't be nervous," he said. "Loosen up and softly squeeze my hand."

I breathed deeper and relaxed. I felt like a child learning to walk.

"Better," he said. "You're doing fine. Just follow my lead."

He gently held me as we glided around the floor to the passionate music. Our chemistry was electrifying.

We returned to the table after our first dance. I wanted to hide away in a corner out of embarrassment, but I drank wine to calm myself.

"Scarlet, it takes practice. You did well," said Conan.

"Thanks, but I'd obviously need a lot more lessons to be anywhere near as good as the dancers here."

"Probably, but don't worry about that. As long you know the basics, that's good enough for me." He rubbed my back with his strong hand. "Have some more wine."

"Good idea," I said, taking another sip. It steadied my nerves and I wanted to be back in his arms. "Let's dance."

I stood up and pulled Conan onto the dance floor. I could no longer deny that I was falling for my target.

* * *

Conan and I began spending Friday evenings at Tango Milonga. I attended Mrs. Anderson's class for an hour before the dance social.

Sometimes the dancers at the Milonga swayed in circles. I could spend my life watching them. I learned that tango was based on technique and emotion. I didn't connect with it at first, but after a few sessions I felt closer to the dance ... and to Conan. The Argentinian music lit a fire in me that burned on the dance floor.

Conan was supportive during my lessons. I was uncomfortable dancing with other men, and he volunteered to dance with me so that Mrs. Anderson could watch and give me pointers. Conan smiled more when he danced. It seemed to be when he was happiest. We didn't need words to communicate when we were dancing.

"You've gotten a lot better," Conan said one night after class. "I'm glad you like dancing. We have something in common besides work."

"I'm not as good as you. It'll take me years to learn this."

"We can practice at my place some night," he said, squeezing my hand.

"You've got to be kidding." I slapped him playfully. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"I have plans for you Scarlet. All you have to do is follow my lead."

"We'll see." I had to finish this mission and continue looking for my mother. My plans didn't include spending my life enslaved as someone's secretary.

He walked me to the dance floor and gripped me in a close embrace. I held him tightly, smelling his manly cologne and enjoying the tension between us as I followed his lead. We danced a slow tango and I wanted to rip his shirt open with my teeth. I bit my lip. _I wonder how he is in bed_.

"You're squeezing my hand," he said.

"Sorry." I loosened my grip.

"That's better. Just relax into my arms," he said. "I'm leaving on Sunday for that conference in Atlantic City. I'll miss you."
The Last Secretary

I emailed Conan as soon as I got to the office on Monday morning. He and a few of his managers were at a conference in Atlantic City for the week, and he'd left instructions for me to report in every morning and evening. He emailed a few times a day to give me work and check his messages.

As I was finishing up on Thursday, Christophe stopped by my desk.

"Errm, Scarlet, about what happened last week ..."

"Yeah, what about it? You were a total creep. What the hell were you thinking? I was about to ... clock you with my heel." I was still furious about his weird behavior and I almost told him I was about to slit his throat.

"I'm really sorry." He stood up straight and looked very businesslike. "I just wanted to talk to you. I didn't mean to scare you."

"So, what is it?" He looked sort of hot for an awkward creep. _What am I thinking_? _I have to control myself_! _I'm an assassin, not a pathetic little worker rat looking for love in a large corporation_.

"I wanted to warn you about something." Christophe narrowed his eyes and looked around. "It's about Conan," he said softly. "Let me make it up to you. Fancy a pizza? I'm buying."

"You aren't going to get weird on me again, are you?"

"No."

"Okay," I said sternly. I had to know whatever it was that he wanted to tell me about Conan.

"Great."

"Let's get out of here. I'm starving.

* * *

We went back to the pizza place with the wood-fired oven and dug into two medium pizzas.

"You wanted to tell me something about Conan," I said, wiping my mouth.

"Yeah." Christophe took a bite of his pizza. "He's doing the exact same thing to you as he did to his last secretary. She ended up quitting and I'm sure it was because of him."

With his French accent, "exact" sounded like "axed."

"You have to be more specific. What did he do to her?"

"He pretended he had to check on buildings at night and he made her go with him, but he was just bringing her along to impress her or whatever. Then he started buying her nice clothes and taking her dancing. He's doing all the same things with you."

"So what happened?"

"Hmm." Christophe looked down at the table. "I think they got engaged."

"And?"

"She left." He looked up at me. "I don't know the details, but you have to keep your relationship professional. I don't want you to leave because of him." He reached across the table and held my hands. "Scarlet, you're the reason I haven't left yet."

"Hold on a second." I snatched my hands out of his grip. "What are you telling me? Do you _like_ me?"

"Yeah ... a little. You're very attractive." He shifted in his chair and stared at me. "I know you're dating the big dog, but I'm the one for you."

"Christophe, I think you're cute ... awkward and really cute ... and I'm flattered, but I don't think of you that way." I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I didn't know what else to say.

"I understand." Disappointment washed over his face. "But I do care about you. If you ever need anything Scarlet, anything at all, you can count on me."

"Thank you. That's sweet. Finish your pizza," I said, shoving a bite into my mouth.

My blood was boiling. I sometimes noticed Conan gazing into the distance, his mind somewhere else. _Am I just another play thing for him_? _Was he thinking of her, or some other woman_?
Hudson River

When Conan got back to New York he had a big backlog of work. We spent the week catching up on correspondence and clearing his desk.

Before going to Tango Milonga on Friday, we stopped at Battery Park. We sat on a bench along the Hudson, across from the glittering lights of New Jersey. The faint glow of the city lights illuminated our skin.

"Scarlet ... you look dazzling," Conan whispered in my ear.

He put his arm around my waist and held me close. I ran my hand down the sleeve of his linen suit and placed it on his firm chest, closing my eyes and laying my head on his shoulder.

I was disgusted by this man ... and yet drawn to him. _Does everyone in the department know he was engaged to his last secretary_? It was humiliating enough that everyone at work knew about her except me, and even worse because I was an undercover agent on a mission. _I'm an assassin in my real life, not this man's subservient secretary and stand in girlfriend_.

Conan gently lifted my chin and I studied his handsome features. His strong jaw, narrow eyes, and thin lips worked in harmony to create a masculine--yet beautiful--face.

"You were on my mind last week," he said. "I missed you."

I watched his lips move as he spoke, but I couldn't take in what he was saying. Anger was simmering beneath my calm façade. I had to pretend that I knew nothing.

"What are you thinking?" He playfully shook my chin.

"Sorry." I smiled. "It was a long day."

"You take work too seriously Scarlet. You're just a secretary."

"What does that mean? I will have you know that, in fact, secretaries run the world mister. The bosses would be completely lost without their secretaries."

"I know, I know," he said. "That came out wrong. What I meant is that you take yourself too seriously. I want you to enjoy yourself, enjoy your life. Don't let a hard day at work ruin your night."

"Secretaries have no choice but to take themselves seriously. Not only do we have to do our own work, we have to make sure the boss looks good ... and that's not always easy."

"You do great work _and_ a spectacular job of making me look good." Conan chuckled. "I'm glad you're mine miss _ssserious_ _sssecretary_."

"I am not _yours_." I stuck out my bottom lip like a petulant child.

"You were mine after our first kiss."

_If he thinks I'm his, why hasn't he been honest about his past_? _I'm just his rebound girl_. _We're only using each other_ -- _I need him to get information and he needs me for company_. _That's fair enough_. _I can't let myself become emotionally compromised_. _A kiss is just a kiss, nothing more_.

I resisted as he tried to pull me closer. I wanted to slap his face, but part of me wanted to get lost in him, to be one with him. I missed him when he was away. I missed his kissable lips ... and the danger. I couldn't get emotionally involved with my target, but I loved the thrill of playing with fire.

His wolf eyes penetrated my defenses and I could no longer resist. I let go and pushed my tongue deep into his mouth. I sucked in his breath as my tongue swirled around his teeth. The forbidden and the sublime were pulsing through my veins at the same time.

He pulled back and looked at me. "You're so gorgeous," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "And a great kisser."

I kissed him hard, wanting to consume every inch of his desire, his essence, his soul.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me for Christophe while I was away."

"What ... who?"

"Never mind. Don't stop kissing me." He locked his lips to mine.

* * *

The limo driver dropped us off at Conan's apartment after the tango social. The doorman greeted us with a smile as he held open the heavy door.

We walked into the grand black marble foyer. There were two security guards and CCTV cameras everywhere. Conan nodded at the guards as he led me to the elevator.

He entered his security code, a green light came on, and the elevator swiftly rose to the twentieth floor. The doors opened to reveal a private hall outside his apartment.

He took a tiny silver sundial key ring from his pocket. He used two keys to unlock four locks on his front door. As soon as we walked inside, he slipped a key card into a reader. Jazz music and soft lighting filled the apartment.

"Very cool," I said.

"I like being able to program the lights and music before I get home. It sort of sold me on the apartment. Everything I looked at had the standard doorman, pool, and parking garage, but this place is special."

I walked toward the open kitchen and noticed all the marble--the tiles, the countertops, the island, the long breakfast bar. There was nothing on the counters, but there was a stainless steel knife block on the breakfast bar.

"How does a whiskey sound?" asked Conan.

"We've already had quite a bit of wine, but I'm game."

"Good. Take a seat." He walked around the island to a cupboard.

I sat on one of the designer leather stools at the breakfast bar and admired the apartment. It was sparsely furnished but tastefully decorated. The simple color scheme was calming, and there were a few select pieces of art on the walls and bookshelves.

Conan placed a small tray on the breakfast bar and sat next to me. The jazz music was the perfect accompaniment to the tinkling of ice cubes dropping into glasses. He poured the golden liquid from a crystal decanter.

"It's a single-malt," he said, putting a glass on a coaster in front of me.

He was a smooth operator ... a little too smooth. I wondered how many women he'd entertained here.

"So, what did you miss about me last week?" I asked as I tilted my head.

"Everything," he said, clinking his glass to mine and taking a sip of whiskey. "I love your company." He glanced at my shoulders before looking away. "Scarlet, are you comfortable being here ... alone with me?"

"Conan," I said. I took a sip of whiskey and it burned the back of my throat. "I think the real question is, are you comfortable with me being here?"

"Of course I am. What do you mean?"

"Your apartment's beautiful, but it's practically a show apartment. It doesn't look lived-in at all. I've never seen such a pristine bachelor pad. It's almost clinical. I get the feeling any mess or disorder could send you into a tailspin." I took another sip of whiskey. "I think you're a neat freak and a control freak," I snarled.

"I like order, and striving for perfection is part of my personality."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Well," he took off his jacket, folded it lengthwise, and draped it over the breakfast bar. "I try to keep everything in its place because I like to know where things are. A lot of the kids in the orphanage were thieves. If anyone got something nice ... from a teacher or someone ... one of the bigger kids would steal it. You never knew what sort of chaos and turmoil a day would bring. I can't live like that again." He gulped down his whiskey and poured another one.

"I see," I said, taking a steak knife out of the block. I ran the blade lightly across my fingers.

"Scarlet, what are you doing?"

"Playing with a knife."

"Put it back," he said, grabbing for my hand.

"Ha, too slow!" I laughed. I twisted the tip of the knife in my palm like a turning top. I was thinking about torturing him, to make him tell me about his ex.

"I'm not amused. Life is unpredictable enough without you making it more so. Please Scarlet, put it down."

"Humans are unpredictable."

"You're right, but I don't try to control people unless I have to ... or they want me to. Don't make me take that away from you."

"You should try controlling someone sometime. It might be fun," I said, putting the knife down. I finished the rest of my whiskey in one go.

"No knives tonight," he said. He put the knife back in the stainless steel block and put it away under the kitchen island.

"Aw, you're no fun," I teased.

"Don't be so sure about that," he said, sitting down and finishing his whiskey. "I can be plenty of fun ... I assure you."

He refilled our glasses and stared at me like a beast salivating over cornered prey. The only difference was that he was a refined beast.

"You're such a contradiction," I said. "You're either prim and proper or on the verge of becoming a wild animal."

"You bring it out in me."

"Are you sure it's not the alcohol bringing something out in you? You've had a lot to drink tonight."

"Scarlet, I've been a perfect gentleman. It's been over a month since our first kiss, and now I'm ready to take what's mine. And don't pretend that you don't want it too. The way you kissed me earlier ..."

"Take what's yours?" I cut him off. "You're getting rather possessive."

"So what? I am possessive. And I don't like Christophe talking to you."

"Christophe?"

"He's been sniffing around you since you got to Wilmar."

"Sniffing around me? What am I, a dog?"

"He's the goddamn dog and I don't like the way he looks at you," said Conan, throwing back his whiskey and slamming down the glass. "He wants you Scarlet. I'll fire the little bastard before that happens."

"Conan, get a grip," I said. "Christophe is my pal, nothing more. And you aren't going to fire him. Anyway, I don't even know what you and I are to each other. Are we colleagues having a nice evening, or is this something else?"

"Don't play games with me little girl. You know I want you. I want you to be mine ... exclusively mine."

"Exclusively yours?"

"Yes. I don't share my holes with anyone."

_Did he just say that_? _What a prick_.

"My _holes_ , as you so eloquently call them, are mine!"

"I believe your body's telling me something else." He stroked my cheek with his long fingers before resting them on my lips. "You're blushing and your pupils are dilated." He looked into my eyes with a wild stare. "You're mine and you can't deny it. You're gagging for it. You need me inside you and that's what you're going to get."

"You're a beast." I stood up and walked to the door. _Why doesn't the White Queen want me to kill him_?

I reached for the doorknob and he yanked me back by the arm, turning me around to face him. He squeezed my shoulders, sending a rush of paralyzing currents down to my toes. All thoughts of leaving were extinguished in that instant.

"Say yes," he commanded, the smell of whiskey wafting off his breath.

"Yes." _What's wrong with me_?

He pressed his lips to mine and rammed his tongue inside my mouth. I was ravenous for him, for his touch. I needed him.

"Follow me," he said.

I followed Conan into his bedroom. He turned around and kissed me with force, pushing me down onto his king-sized four-poster bed. He kneaded my breasts with one hand as the other hungrily reached beneath my dress and caressed my thighs.

"No!" I shrieked.

"Stop denying yourself." He pulled his hand out from under my dress. "Tell me you want me."

"Aargh. Yes! I want you!" I pulled him toward me, clutching at his broad shoulders.

He unzipped my dress and pulled it off in one swift motion, tossing it on the floor. I was completely vulnerable, lying underneath him in nothing but my red lingerie.

"You came prepared for this. You want me." He snickered and looked deep into my eyes.

"Shut up." I slapped his face and he turned away.

"You bring out the beast in me." He turned back to face me and smiled.

He began unbuttoning his white shirt and I unbuttoned the cuffs. He pulled off his sleeves and flung his shirt on the nightstand.

I touched his bare skin for the first time. He had a six-pack and well-defined muscles. The feel of his taut body sent thrills racing through every part of me as I breathed in his natural musky scent.

We groped and kissed and nibbled each other as we fought for control, our bodies burning like a scorching fire. I pushed against him, biting his neck as I climbed on top of him and straddled his manly frame.

"You don't realize how much you're turning me on," said Conan, looking up at me with a big grin. "Stop struggling you little thing."

He flipped me over and got on top of me. He pushed me into the soft bed, pinning me underneath him. He gave my lips a deep, pulsating kiss as his racing heart beat against my chest. He slid his fingers down my stomach, stopping between my legs.

"No ... don't." I desperately wanted it, wanted him. What he was doing felt good, amazing, but I didn't want to show him.

"You're just a horny slut waiting for me to own you," he whispered in my ear as he pushed his fingers into my panties.

"No! I'm not," I whispered as my back arched.

"I'll prove it," he said, circling his fingers between my legs in places unknown to me.

I gave a soft moan as I squirmed on the bed. I was helpless. I couldn't resist this man. I was supposed to be the one in control, but he was controlling me.

"How long has it been since you were with a man?" he whispered as he cupped my little girl with his strong hands and bit my earlobe.

"I don't know." My head was spinning. I could hardly think. "Many years."

"Do you want me now?"

"No ... yes ... no ..."

"You want me to enter you," he said, spreading my legs. "You don't have to say anything. You're dripping wet and I know what you need."

He inserted a finger and I moaned in acceptance. My body was burning with desire as he moved his fingers in heavenly ways.

"What a wet, horny girl you are," he said as he bit my lip.

He pulled my bra straps off my shoulders and started sucking my nipples. As his tongue circled my erogenous zones, my ugly memories of the murders turned into a spinning white lantern.

"Oh God ... oh my God ... stop," I groaned as I turned from side to side, melting into divine pleasure under his experienced hands.

"Be still," he said as his second finger entered me.

He pushed his fingers in deeper and deeper, sending electric shocks through every nerve in my body. He was inside me and I'd lost control of the situation.

"Here it is," he cooed. He hooked his fingers at the right angle and pressed at my sweet spot deep inside.

"God ... save me," I moaned softly, grasping at the soft sheets as my pelvis lifted off the bed.

He jabbed his fingers in and out of me--fast, slow, fast, and slow again. Every muscle in my body tensed as I clawed the sheets and pulled them off the side of the bed.

"Don't hold back. Let yourself go," he said in an authoritative whisper.

I held my breath and he went faster and deeper until my body jerked uncontrollably and I came. I let go of the sheets as all my muscles relaxed. I sank into the soft bed, whimpering in reverie as his fingers rested inside me.

"That's what you needed." Conan smiled as he looked down at me. "You needed to let go." He removed his fingers and caressed my legs as if they were instruments. "I want you Scarlet."

"Why?" I was in ecstasy and I couldn't think clearly.

"I can't help but want you. You're my Scarlet Queen." He looked adoringly at my body. "You're my goddess, my queen. You're perfect." He kissed me as his long fingers stroked a spot on my neck.

I groaned in pleasure again. _God, he found my weak spot_.

"Ah, you're sensitive here too." He circled the spot with the tips of his fingers as he gently kissed my neck.

I moaned beneath his touch as I drifted into a world of fairytales and happy endings--the world where we would be king and queen and no one could tell us what to do. The world where we'd be in control, living happily ever after instead of being rats in the game of life.

"Conan ... you have to take me with you," I said, knowing it could never happen.

"I'll take you anywhere, everywhere, you want to go," he whispered, pulling my head toward him.

I put my hand around his neck and kissed him passionately. I wanted to consume him, reach into him, take him into my paradise ... the Scarlet Queen's universe of pleasure and pain. But we lived in the Red Hourglass's world, defiled by the blood of evil men. There was no redemption, no relief from the pain. The Red Hourglass lived in a world devoid of love and hope, full of sin, guilt, and despair.

"What a tease," I mumbled under my breath.

I cuddled up to his warm body, feeling safe and secure. I fell soundly asleep in seconds.

* * *

The morning sun shone through the translucent white curtains, gloriously filling the bedroom with soft light. There was a slight taste of whiskey in my mouth and I looked around the room. It was minimalist with blond wood furniture.

Conan was still wearing his pants. He propped himself up on his elbow and slowly caressed my hourglass waist. I admired his body. He reminded me of a beautiful Roman statue carved from white marble. He gently rolled me over and began rubbing my back.

"A red hourglass. How interesting. What does it symbolize?"

"An hourglass reminds me that our time on earth is finite," I said. "Like the grains of sand falling to the bottom of an hourglass, our lives are always slipping away. Every moment is lost to time, never to return."

"That's very serious."

"Did you really believe me?" I giggled.

"It makes perfect sense, and you do take things very seriously."

"Here's another interpretation. Black widow spiders have red hourglass markings. Their bites can be fatal to humans, and the females have been known to kill their mates."

"So what does it really mean to you?"

"It's up to you to decide which version you believe."

"I think the truth is that it represents something very personal, something you're trying to hide. It doesn't matter what you tell me. I'll learn the truth in time. Anyway, I have a secret of my own."

"What secret?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He laughed.

He sat up and put on his shirt and tie. I grabbed the tie and pulled him back down.

"Be careful. You may not want to find out what I do with my ties."

"You wear ties to work. That's what they're for." I slid my fingers along his torso and began playing with his morning erection.

"Ties are for tying things."

"Tying what?"

"Depends on the version you believe," he teased.

"Show me what you do with your ties." I undid his tie and handed it to him.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into little girl," he said as he ran the silk tie through his fingers.

I wanted to say the same thing to him, but I kept quiet.

"Show me," I begged.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"You know about my tattoo, so I don't see why I shouldn't know what you do with ties."

"It can be dangerous."

I looked down and laughed to myself. _I doubt you're more dangerous to me than I am to you_.

"I'm the sort of girl who likes dangerous things."

"My dear secretary, you certainly don't look like a girl who flirts with danger ... or kink. But I know you're a wild little thing that needs to be controlled."

"Really? Try me ... or tie me then. What's your pleasure?"

"Hmm." He smiled and kissed me gently on the mouth. "Once I do, there's no going back."

"I think we've already crossed the point of no return. Show me."

"Next time." He stood up and put on his shoes. "I have to go to work for a little while. You can stay here and make yourself breakfast. I'll be home later."

"It's Saturday," I whined.

"I have a meeting. See you later." He kissed my forehead and left.

I got out of bed and put on my dress. I walked into the living room and perused his large book collection. There were business books, a Steve Jobs biography, classic novels, and a lot of works by David Eddings. A black leather book called _The Black Rose_ caught my eye and I pulled it off the shelf. It was a historical romance novel written in 1945. _He certainly has diverse tastes_.

Conan's desk was covered by neat stacks of files. Being his secretary, I knew the contents of the files. I even knew how much tax he paid. _I shouldn't be poking around._

I went into the kitchen and looked for coffee. I found an electric kettle, a French press, and ground coffee under the island.
Zhong Yuan

"Roses for my Scarlet Queen," said Conan as he greeted me with a bouquet of flowers on Monday morning.

He was wearing a shiny gray suit. The sharp cut of the jacket highlighted his well-defined features.

"Thank you ... Conan." I was surprised, to say the least. Everyone was looking over their cubicles at us and I was embarrassed. I smiled shyly in their general direction.

"My pleasure." He winked at me and walked back into his office.

I breathed in deeply and let the aroma of the flowers fill my senses. He was everything I liked in a man--strong, solid, secure, smart, and suave. _He's so dashing_. _Life is beautiful_. I shook my head and put the dozen red roses underneath my desk. The last thing I needed was to get caught up in fantasies about running off with Conan and living happily ever after.

He came out of his office with a MacBook Air tucked under his arm. It matched his suit.

"Did the roses delight you?" Conan looked around to see if anyone was watching us. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Oooo ... I love the roses. They bring out the Scarlet Queen in me," I squealed. I was caught off guard by his public display of affection and I couldn't control my response. My mind began racing with fantasies.

"I'm glad," he whispered. "I'm off to meet the new security trainees. We're meeting downstairs if you need me."

Conan was so charming and disarming. I had to talk some sense into myself and I gave myself a quiet little speech under my breath: "You aren't supposed to fall in love. Don't compromise your mission. Remember Max. He used you, abused you, and tore out your heart. Remember what your stepfather did to you. Conan is the same--a dirty, filthy, liar. These lowly men aren't even worthy of your attention. They're only worthy of being your minions."

I clenched my fists and felt my confidence go up. I caressed my tattoo through my blouse. _I'm the Red Hourglass, not a secretary falling in love with her boss_. _I have to continue working here, but there's something for me at the end of it. I'm an agent and I should've been on the hunt by now, but I have to do this if I want to find my mother_. _I am in control_. I used an NLP technique to reinforce my positive thoughts and I felt much better.

I picked up a stack of papers and started my filing. I came across an important-looking press release.

_Zhong Yuan Holdings buys stakes in Wilmar Enterprises_

_Zhong Yuan Holdings has acquired a 30% stake in Wilmar Enterprises. This move will secure Zhong Yuan's continuous overseas land acquisitions._

_"We are very impressed with Wilmar's growth," said Yuan, the CEO of Zhong Yuan. "We will continue to work closely with Wilmar."_

_Yuan and his team will travel to New York City later this year for a meeting with Wilmar's board of directors._

I googled Zhong Yuan Holdings. It was a state-owned enterprise of the Chinese government. They'd recently acquired a whole town in Los Angeles County and were planning to redevelop the land as an upscale retirement community.

Most of the town's residents had purchased their homes at the peak of the latest property boom, and many of them ended up defaulting on their mortgages. Property prices plummeted, and the remaining homeowners wanted to sell up. Zhong Yuan bought them all out. Then the government sold all the public land at cut-rate prices to Zhong Yuan--with huge tax breaks--bailed out the mortgage companies, and gave the rest of the land to Zhong Yuan.

Zhong Yuan headquarters were in Shanghai and they had subsidiaries in solar energy, construction, and land development. I found an article with a picture of Zhong Yuan's CEO shaking hands with the Premier of China. It was obvious that the Chinese government used Zhong Yuan to acquire property and influence in foreign countries. If they gained a controlling share in Wilmar, they'd exponentially increase their US holdings.

_Is Zhong Yuan going to buy up New York next and make it a mega-Chinatown for the rich_? The thought sent shivers through me. An influx of rich foreigners would drive up property prices, force out the locals, and the cost of living would skyrocket.

_It's exactly as the White Queen said, and it's going to get worse now that Zhong Yuan's involved_. _I'm sure The House lost their lease because of Wilmar or some other big developer_. _A café serving the community for three generations ... gone in an instant_.

With all economies now linked, this was the sheer force of globalization. Our city was, next and I wanted to save it from the greedy bastards. _I'll have to find out when Zhong Yuan is coming to meet Wilmar's board_.

I checked Google News for the latest info on Wilmar Enterprises and White Holdings--the White Queen's conglomerate. The news was flying in with updates every minute and I saved all the articles to my encrypted flash drive. I opened another window and watched the stock prices of both companies fluctuate wildly as investor confidence waxed and waned with each bit of news.

_Human are unpredictable and stock markets are in constant flux. The market is a strange beast_. I didn't quite understand the rules of this game of chance. All I knew was that the forces of globalization had created a level playing field for foreign competitors to invade a market and create chaos for established home players like White Holdings.

"Hey Scarlet," Kelvin snorted.

I almost jumped right off my seat. I saw him walking up to my desk out of the corner of my eye, but I was still startled.

"Kelvin ... hello. What can I do for you?" I shut the window with the stock ticker and ripped my flash drive out of the USB port.

"Will you remind Conan that we have a meeting at three this afternoon? We usually have our meetings in the mornings, but he's with the new trainees today, so I think he should get a reminder."

"Of course." I opened Conan's calendar. "The meeting's in his calendar, but I'll remind him. Kelvin, three o'clock. No problem."

"Good. Thank you." Kelvin sauntered back to his office.

* * *

I uploaded all the articles into the White Queen's Wilmar database when I got home from work. We didn't use the database to communicate our analyses or future plans, so I wrote a short report in agent code.

I reported that it looked like a merger with Zhong Yuan was on the cards and we needed to get the date of the meeting. I ran downstairs and left the report for Vanus in an old built-in milk box that we were using as a dead drop. Then I sent her a text saying "I forgot the milk."

I thought about last Friday night with Conan. Out of all my sisters, I was the closest to Johnson Wilmar ... because of Conan. Did the White Queen know who Conan was when she told me to apply for the job as his secretary?

I'd never been on an assignment that put me in close proximity to my target for a long time. My assignments had always been simple--marked target, predetermined location, seduction, and murder. Like a spider, all I had to do was wait for my prey and kill it.

This assignment was taking place in a complex arena of human dynamics, corporate espionage, and global capitalism. The White Queen was playing chess with Wilmar. Conan Casey was a knight, and I was just another disposable pawn. She was maneuvering me so that she could checkmate the king. Would I be killed, or have to sacrifice myself, in this game? I shuddered just thinking about it.

I realized I was closer to learning the truth behind all the lies I'd been taught. I started questioning my beliefs, my identity, and my place in the world. Questions that I had no answers for were spinning through my mind. _Where do I belong_? _Does the White Queen really believe that I'm meant for bigger things_? _Or has she been deceiving me all along_?

I was an orphan with nothing to live or fight for other than the White Queen. She was my mama and I'd never questioned her love for me. I'd always believed that her love was worth fighting for, worth risking my life for, but was it true? I feared that I would never know.
My Submission

I went home with Conan after the tango social on Friday. I was having my doubts about the White Queen--and the mission--but I wasn't going to give up. I still wanted to find my mother and the White Queen was the key.

I woke up early on Saturday morning. Conan was in the shower and my stomach was growling. There wasn't much food in the kitchen, but I found bread, eggs, and butter in the fridge. I grabbed the French press and kettle from under the island and made coffee.

"What's for breakfast?" Conan asked as he came out of his bedroom.

"Eggs and toast. Do you want coffee?"

"Please." He gave me a soft peck on the cheek. "I have to reply to some emails."

Conan went over to his desk and turned on his laptop. I poured him a cup of coffee and set it down on a coaster next to him. The smell of sweet sandalwood wafted off his skin.

"I'll turn you into the perfect girlfriend in no time."

"Hmm, I'm not your bitch," I said as I ruffled his wet hair. He was my boss at work, and I had to play the part of his girlfriend, but I wasn't going to let him call all the shots all the time.

"How do you like your eggs? Scrambled, sunny side up, over easy?" I asked from the kitchen.

"Scrambled eggs are my favorite."

"Coming up."

I melted butter in a frying pan as I beat the eggs with a little salt and pepper. I poured the eggs into the hot pan and put the bread in the toaster. When everything was ready, I buttered the toast, scooped the eggs onto the plate, and took it over to Conan's desk with a fork.

"It smells delicious." Conan pushed his laptop aside and shoveled his scrambled eggs onto the toast. He took a bite, closing his eyes as he crunched away. When he opened his eyes he looked like a content wolf pup. "It tastes good too. Thank you."

"You found the right girlfriend, huh?"

"Yeah, you should stay here with me. I'll train you to be my perfect servant."

"Very funny. I'm not your _servant_. Besides, I have to go home. I don't want my cat to starve to death."

"I didn't know you have a cat."

"There's a lot about me that you don't know."

"I'm sure there is," he said. "Maybe I'm too busy to train you during the week anyway, but you can spend weekends here. I'll buy you one of those automatic feeders for your pussy."

"I haven't agreed to spend weekends with you."

"Will you?"

"Maybe."

We spent the day watching movies and frolicking around his apartment. Just as the sun was setting, we headed out to buy groceries.

* * *

Conan cooked a simple steak dinner. He didn't like processed food, and he made a mushroom gravy from scratch. He used crimini mushrooms, butter, garlic, thyme, salt, and black pepper. The gravy was thick, savory, and to die for. We polished off a bottle of Merlot with the meal.

"Scarlet ..." Conan said after dinner.

"Yes?"

"I want to do something to you." He smiled and combed his long fingers through his dark-brown hair. "But I need your permission."

"My permission?"

"Do you remember asking me what I tie with my ties?"

"Yes."

"I want to tie you up ... I want you to hand your will over to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Your submission, my dear Scarlet. I want you under my _total_ control."

"Total control?"

"You have to trust me. You have to let me do to your body whatever I want. Do you trust me?"

The last time I trusted a man he betrayed me. I remembered how I felt when I saw Max kissing that other girl. I didn't want to feel that way again ... ever. I'd suspected that Conan used his ties to tie up women. I was sort of curious, but I was also afraid. _If I submit to him, will I learn to trust again_? _Will I learn to love someone besides the White Queen_?

"How do I submit to you?" I asked.

"I'll show you." He reached across the table and took my hand. "Come with me."

He led me into the middle of the living room. _Am I ready for this_?

"Stand here," he said. He put on ambient music and took something out of a drawer. "Close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The sweet scent of sandalwood drifted off Conan's body as he stood behind me.

"I'm going to blindfold you and then we'll dance. I lead and you follow. When I step forward, you step backward. When I turn your hand, you spin."

Conan covered my eyes with a soft black cotton scarf and tied it tightly behind my head, leaving me in darkness. He grabbed one of my hands and put the other on his waist. I carefully followed his lead--left, right, forward, backward, spinning into his arms--as he glided us around the room.

I breathed in his sweet scent and there was no other reality. The blinding city lights, the shrieking sirens, the stench of pollution were all gone. I was transported to a blissful other world. In this realm, we were immortal and time ceased to exist.

He put one hand on my upper back and pulled my hips toward him with the other hand as he dipped me. My body fell in a perfect semi-circle until he pulled me up, kissing my slim neck. He slid his fingers down my throat and between my breasts, continuing down my abdomen. He kissed me passionately, sucking my life force into his.

"Conan ... this is celestial," I whispered.

He pushed a finger to my lips. "Be quiet. Just feel me," he said as he swooped me up in his arms. He carried me into the bedroom and gently laid me on his bed, nibbling at my neck and chest. "I'm going to train you. You'll become my perfect girlfriend."

"No one's perfect," I mumbled, tracing the scar under my dress with my finger.

"Did you say something?"

"No, no."

He pulled up my dress and ran his fingers inside my garter belt. "Look at these sinful legs," he said, kissing the naked my flesh above my stockings as he took off his shirt.

I was squirming with excitement. Conan was filling me with desires I'd never imagined. I felt as though I was coming alive for the first time.

He slowly glided his hand to the sweet spot between my legs, touching the tip. "Here it is," he cooed.

I wasn't prepared for the intense waves of pleasure that washed over me. _What am I doing_? _I can't let this man own me_. I moved my hips away from his menacing fingers.

"Be still," he said in a deep voice.

Conan grabbed my arms and held them together above my head. He flung my arms apart and slipped something over each wrist. I screamed and tried to sit up, but he held me down and tied my wrists to the bedposts.

"You control freak jerk!" I screamed as memories of my stepfather flooded my mind. "How dare you!" I was terrified and I began kicking my legs, wishing I'd taken off the blindfold before my wrists were tightly bound.

"You're mine now. Stop struggling. Give in to me," he commanded as he held down my legs.

His orders seemed to enter straight into my subconscious mind, tapping into some deep need to obey him without question. I let go of my fear and stopped struggling.

"Good girl," he said as he stroked my cheek. "That's my good pussy."

I was dripping wet. _Holy_ ... _I've never been so turned on._

I heard him unzip his pants. He spread my legs and mounted me. I wanted him, but something inside was stopping me. _I'm an agent and he's my target_. _He's no different from any other man_. _I can't trust him_ ... _I can't love him_.

"Don't ... please don't," I moaned.

"Stop making noises little thing. I'll gag you if I have to," he said, slipping his hand over my wetness.

"Wait ... stop."

"Now you're making me angry," he said, rolling down my panties. "I warned you, but you had to be a bad, bad girl." He removed my panties and shoved them in my mouth.

I tried to kick him and he grabbed my legs with his strong hands.

"No," he said. "Don't move."

I knew struggling was futile and my body went limp. Conan tied my ankles to the bottom bedposts. I was unable to move my limbs and knew I couldn't escape. I was just an object for his pleasure.

He inserted his long fingers into my wetness. I tried to say no, but it came out as "nnnuuuhh." I'd never felt so humiliated in my life.

"You're so wet," he said, feeling for my sweet spot deep inside.

I bit down on my panties, trying not to moan.

"My bad little pussy is dripping," he said as he removed his fingers and stroked my inner thighs.

He began mercilessly ramming his fingers in and out of me. _He's treating me like piece of meat and my body loves it_. _I hate myself_. _If he ever let's me go, I swear he'll pay for this_. I was trying my hardest not to lose it, but he forced me to come with his rough touch.

"There now. Isn't that better? You're an aggressive little thing and I like it when you're helpless. You just need to be tied up, don't you?"

I wanted to scream "let me go," but I knew I had to show him some sign of submission and I nodded. I was afraid of what he was going to do next, but there was another side of me that was enjoying this. I'd often restrained my targets, and it was sort of a relief to be on the receiving end for once. The feeling of being conquered was strange ... and liberating.

"Good obedient kitty," he said. "You can have my cock now, but I want you to see it first."

Conan tore the blindfold from my eyes and his muscular body filled my vision. He removed his briefs and I saw his manhood for the first time. He was neither too large or too small. I was too turned on to resist and I closed my eyes. I remained still as he lowered himself onto me and pushed his hardness inside. He fit perfectly, hitting all the right spots and filling me up with his warmth.

"You're so tight," he groaned.

He sucked on my nipples and took his time thrusting in and out. I stopped pulling against the ties and gave in. I moaned in pleasure as my body went wild and my mind fell into an ecstatic delirium.

"You need more," he said, lifting my pelvis and shoving a pillow underneath me. He penetrated me as deeply as he could and stopped. "This feels right."

I involuntarily arched my back and contracted around him, jerking against the ties. He began pounding me, each thrust of his cock transporting me to cloud nine.

"You like being tied up and fucked."

I nodded.

"I own you now my Scarlet Queen."

He charged at increasing speeds, sending me into outer space. I was under his control, a part of him. I no longer had a mind of my own. _Is this submission_?

"I'm coming," he moaned. He stiffened up and gave a sharp grunt, releasing his fluids deep inside me.

My eyes rolled up and my body quivered with pleasure as his essence filled me. I shriveled into a series of spasms as I drifted into a transcendent space where all was still and quiet. I was his now. I was owned.

The humiliation of losing to this man, my target, set in. Conan had crossed the threshold and claimed me as his property. I never thought I'd be controlled by another man and I began tearing up. _I've lost the game of love_.

"Will you be good if I untie you?"

I nodded. He removed the saliva-soaked panties from my mouth and untied me.

"You may leave now."

"What?" I asked, sitting up and massaging my wrists. There were rope marks on my skin.

"I didn't tell you to speak. My chauffeur will drive you home."

* * *

I ran up the stairs to my apartment and Milky was waiting for me just inside the door. I picked her up and gave her kisses as I hugged her furry body tightly against my chest.

She was hungry and she started to meow. I put her down and gave her a whole can of tuna. She gobbled it up.

I couldn't believe what just happened with Conan. I felt used and abused, like he'd chewed me up and spit me out.

I began thinking about my stepfather, remembering his life draining away before my eyes. I hated him and I knew he deserved that end. I was reborn that day as a cold-blooded killer. My blades brought me the justice I craved _._

_I hope the White Queen changes her mind and wants me to kill that son-of-a-bitch Conan Casey. He's just another abuser_. _Why did I lose control and submit to him like that_? _How could I let my target do that to me_?

I sat down and wrote a few lines of poetry in my notebook.

"Love is a Curse.

Love is nothing but a curse,

A curse that controls me."

_A sentimental killer_? _I don't think so._ I ripped the page out of my notebook and threw it in the trash. I had no time for love.

I had to get control of myself. I did a hundred sit-ups and fifty push-ups. I started doing more sit-ups as punishment for my weakness. After two hundred ninety-nine, I collapsed on the floor.

I stared up at the white ceiling, trying to catch my breath. I knew that working with my target over an extended period could lead to an emotional attachment--just like with Milky. She started coming for dinner every night, and if she didn't appear I'd be worried sick. I'd imagine that she'd been run over by car, or had been in a fight and was dying in the gutter. Once, I didn't see her for two weeks. When she finally turned up she was a filthy bag of fur and bones. I decided I had to make her mine. I closed the kitchen window and kept her inside for good ... away from all the evil humans and animals. I gave her a bath and let her sleep in my bed. _Now she wears a collar with a name tag. She's my pet and her destiny is in my hands_.

My feelings for Conan were going to destroy me. I had to stop this madness. "Erase all attachment," I told myself. I had to be numb to him. I was numb to physical pain, and I needed to steel myself against emotional pain.

I looked at the scar above my waist. It would be with me for life and it was Mimi's fault. Her weakness--her love for the mob boss--stopped her from going in for the kill when she had a chance. I was sliced open and barely escaped with my life. Vanus came to our rescue and all I remember was running to the car holding my bleeding wound. I was unconscious before we got back to the Academy.

The White Queen's doctors saved me, but they said I was dead for ten seconds. _For ten seconds, my heart didn't beat_. I saw my mother in those ten seconds. Her face and the sunflower field were a blur of sepia--like old photographs--until everything went pitch-black. When I opened my eyes I was back in the sterile white room with blinding lights, white coats, and stainless steel medical instruments.

I had life-saving surgery and I stayed in the mansion for the next few weeks. The White Queen's nurses cleaned my wound every day and made sure I ate enough to heal. When I started physical therapy I had to be careful not to rip out my stitches. I did a lot of stretching, and I played shooting games on a Wii to keep up my eye-hand coordination. Slowly, I regained my strength and my health ... and my resolve to live. I still had to find my mother and I wasn't about to give up.

I never forgave Mimi for her mistake, for her weakness. I swore--for the sake of my sisters--that I would never compromise my missions.
No Happy Endings

Conan was cold to me on Monday morning--no flowers, no kisses, no sweet words. It was as if Saturday never happened. He locked himself in his office and buried himself in work. He barely even acknowledged me when I brought him his lunch.

I tried not to worry about him, but it really started getting to me in the afternoon. I began thinking about his last secretary. I wondered if she left because of his kinks or because he was a total prick after she submitted to him.

Was this Conan's idea of being exclusive? Did he always torment his lovers, get them to submit so that he could entwine them in pleasure and pain as part of some cruel fantasy? Did he have a dungeon with torture devices? Was he just a sick, kinky bastard who derived pleasure from sadistic games? What other secrets was he hiding? _Did I imagine everything_? _Am I overreacting_?

I finished my work early and sent Conan an email saying I was going home sick. I didn't think I'd be able to hold it together on the subway and I took a taxi.

* * *

There was a rose on the sidewalk outside my building. I picked it up before I went inside.

Milky was sleeping on the sofa. I flopped down next to her and stroked her neck. The loud vibration of her purrs against my hand was a comfort. _At least someone loves me_.

A few realizations hit me like a ton of bricks. The White Queen gave me everything I needed to start a new life. _Without her, I wouldn't be who I am_. My sisters, the Red Hourglass, and my missions were all part of me. _I have to serve the White Queen._ The old me--the naïve me who could trust men--was dead. I could never trust a man again. They only disappointed me ... time and time again.

I started plucking the petals off the rose, chanting "he loves me, he loves me not" like a silly little girl. I felt like I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown and I decided to take some time off work.

I figured I needed a week to detach from my emotions and get down to business again. I sent Conan an email.

_Dear Conan,_

_I have to take leave for the rest of the week. I hope this is okay._

_Regards,_

_Scarlet Walters_

He replied immediately.

_Scarlet,_

_Your leave is approved._

_Is anything wrong? I'm always here to help._

_Conan W. Casey_

_Chief Security Officer_

_Wilmar Enterprises_

____________________

_Conan,_

_Thank you. Nothing's wrong. I just need a break._

_Scarlet Walters_

____________________

_Scarlet,_

_I'll call you after work._

_Conan W. Casey_

_Chief Security Officer_

_Wilmar Enterprises_

I shut down my laptop and turned off my phone. Did he really care? No, he didn't. He was just using me.

* * *

The next morning, I had a text message from Vanus: "Don't forget the milk." That meant there was something for me in the dead drop. I went downstairs and grabbed the white envelope from the milk box.

My instructions from the White Queen were exactly as I expected. I had to get the date of the meeting with Zhong Yuan and find out where their people would be staying. I crumpled up the page and tossed it in the toilet. That was my favorite way of destroying our paper trail. I liked watching the runny ink and crushed paper swirl around in spirals before everything washed away.

Conan called my cell phone. I didn't want to answer, but I did.

"Hello."

"Scarlet, is anything wrong?"

"I'm not feeling well, but I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Should I come over?"

"No. I just need to take this week off ... to think about things."

"Are you uncomfortable with my proposal?"

"I'm still considering it, but I really don't know if getting closer to you is a good idea."

"Because I tied you up?"

"No, I enjoyed that." I didn't even know if I was lying or not. It felt good, but I hated the humiliation and the old memories it dredged up. Conan confused me, made me do stupid things. _I should never have trusted him, or slept with him_. _I'm a fool_.

"Well, what then? Are things moving too fast? We can slow down ..."

"Conan, it's tricky being in a relationship with someone at work." I couldn't tell him I was upset because he ignored me, or that our relationship was doomed because I was spying on him.

"It might take some time to adjust, but I'm sure we can figure it out."

"I don't know."

"Trust me Scarlet. I'll pick you up Friday evening ... for the weekend."

"Hmm." I hesitated. "Okay." I had to stay close to him for the mission.

"Have a good rest of the week. Call me anytime."

"Thanks."

"Take care," he said. "I have to get back to a meeting."

My emotions were in turmoil. Conan was alluring and repulsive at the same time. Like waves of the sea, I was drawn to him before backing off. The control he had over me was dangerous.

I called Mimi and asked her to come over after work. I didn't trust her like I used to, and I didn't want to reveal my weakness to her, but she was the only person I could talk to.

* * *

"What's going on?" Mimi asked as she sat down on the sofa and kicked off her shoes.

"I've lost it!" I said, pacing back and forth.

"What are you talking about? What have you lost?"

"I'm worried that I'm falling in love with Conan. I don't think I can kill someone I've grown attached to."

"He's not a target, silly. All you have to do is get information, no killing. Conan is Johnson Wilmar's heir and you're working with him, getting close to him. You owe the White Queen too much to give up this opportunity for personal reasons."

"But I don't want to do this anymore. I just want to quit."

"Do you really want to abandon your sisters and let the White Queen down?"

Realizing my delusion, I stopped in my tracks. _The White Queen's business is under threat, she could send agents after me and lock me up if I blow this_. _Anyway, I need to find my mother. That's why I'm here_.

"Of course not," I said. "I owe her everything ... and I love my sisters. I guess I have no choice but to finish the mission."

"Good call."

"But what should I do? How do I handle this?" I turned to Mimi.

"It's simple. Just focus on the mission. You can quit Wilmar when we get hold of Yuan and his people. Get the intel we need and the rest of us will make sure that the merger doesn't go through."

"You're right Mimi. Thanks." She always gave sound advice, like a sage.

"What's so special about Conan anyway? You're so different since you started working for him. You're no longer yourself."

"That's not true! ... I don't know. He's good-looking, rich, powerful. What's not to like? But I don't think I've been any different. I am myself! How can you say that Mimi?"

"Okay, okay, relax. You're the one who said you're losing it. So my advice is to take control. Let's meditate." Mimi sat on the floor and got into the lotus position. "Om ... just let your mind be still. Let your thoughts flow naturally, don't resist."

"If I'm going to finish the mission, I need the White Queen to promise me something."

"What?"

"That I won't have to kill him."

"Janet, the sooner you learn that romantic love is temporary, the better off you'll be," said Mimi. "Anyway, there's no such thing as love in that sense. It's all in your head ... it's just your imagination."

"Love is temporary?"

"Of course it's temporary. It doesn't last. Your love is transferred from one person to the next. You think you love Conan, but that will change."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember your first boyfriend? Do you still love him?"

"No way."

"See? Right now you think you love Conan, but it's all in your head. Your love will find another object in time. Anyway, he's only using you as a stand in girlfriend. He'll move on to his next secretary once he's done with you ... just like he did with his last secretary." Mimi smirked and folded her arms.

"So you think he's just using me, lying to me?"

"Yes! Men lie to women all the time!" Mimi threw her arms in the air. "You can't trust them! He's just like any other man ... your stepfather, your first boyfriend, remember them?"

"Yes ... they were assholes."

"Good. Now that you're seeing sense, just remind yourself that you're on a mission. Acting like his girlfriend is part of the job, it's your undercover identity, nothing more. You're just pretending to be in love with him until the mission's over. You're Janet, NOT Scarlet. Don't forget that."

"I'll do my best."

"Janet, I know you can do it. I have faith in you." Mimi stood up and gave me a big hug with her tiny body.

"Thanks Mimi."

"You're welcome. I have to go, but call me if you need to."

I walked Mimi down to the front door and returned to my apartment. _I'm on a mission and he's only using me_. _He's a jerk. I have to take control of myself and this situation_.

I sat next to Milky on the sofa and she nudged my hand. I tickled her chin and she climbed onto my lap, as if she knew that I needed to be comforted. Her little purring furry body eased my anxiety.

Milky jumped off my lap with a meow and led me to the kitchen. She wanted her dinner and I made myself a sandwich.

As we were eating, Conan sent me a text message: "Are you okay? Do you need to talk?" I turned off the phone.

I'd compromised the mission and put myself in a very bad position. Instead of seducing Conan, he was seducing me. One way or the other, one of us was bound to betray the other. _Nothing good can come of this._

I felt like I was under some awful spell that was filling my mind with thoughts of the impossible--a happy future. I knew there would be no sweet endings, no happy tomorrows like in fairy tales. Yet I was lusting after something I couldn't have, obsessing over a desire that could never be fulfilled. Lust arrives as an angel disguised as love, but it's still lust, not love.

If, by some miracle, it turned out to be love, I was still doomed. Like every other emotion, love comes and goes. It's never still. Life had shown me that love always betrays you. Just like Mimi said, it doesn't last. Men use love to fool women, and women in love are weak--it's when they make bad decisions. And if you love the other more than the other loves you, there's no hope at all of winning the game.

_If my heart was removed and dissected, would love be found inside_? _Would it prove that love is real, that it exists_? I grabbed a tissue and scribbled down a few lines:

"Killing me swiftly

In your white coat

A scalpel in hand

Cutting my heart out

A thesis of evidence"

I went to the bathroom and threw the tissue in the toilet. The black ink seeped into the clear water before I flushed it away in a swirl of liquid remorse.

My emotions were overwhelming me and I had to shut them down. I got on the ground and started doing push-ups, trying to exhaust myself before my mind worked itself into a frenzy.

* * *

My phone rang as I was having a late breakfast on Wednesday. I checked the caller ID before I answered.

"Hi Christophe. What's up?"

"Hi Scarlet. I just noticed that you haven't been in the office since Monday afternoon. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, thanks. I'm just down with the flu."

"Are you sure? Do you need anything? I could pick up whatever you need and drop it by after work. It's no problem."

"That's okay. I'll be back in when I'm better."

"Did that jackass Conan hit you or something?"

"No, no one's hit me." I laughed. "I'm just sick, that's all."

"Well that's a relief ... I mean I'm sorry you're sick, but I'm relieved that you're not thinking of quitting."

"No, I'm not quitting. I should be in next week."

"Okay, don't quit on us. We need you. You know you can count on me anytime if that jackass ever touches you ... or for anything."

"You're very sweet, thanks. I'll see you next week."

"Okay Scarlet, look after yourself."

Christophe's call cheered me up. It was time to deal with the situation at hand.

I used the NLP swish technique to get control over my emotions. I started by picturing myself as a human-sized red hourglass without any feelings for Conan. I gave the image all the positive attributes of an agent--strong, smart, and in control. I held on to the good feelings attached to that version of myself and shrunk the image in my mind. Next, I pictured myself as I'd been the last few days--a weak emotional wreck in love with Conan--but I was still feeling the positive things associated with the first image. I kept the negative image in my mind until the bad emotions began to return. Then I shrunk it and swished back to the positive image to restore my positive feelings. I repeated the exercise seven times and the positive feelings replaced the negative feelings. I was finally able to picture myself without any feelings for Conan and control my emotions.

He'd caught me off guard with his kinky ties, and he had no idea that I had a kinky side of my own. If he wanted to play games, I'd play games. If he wanted to enslave my body, I'd ensnare his heart and make him fall in love with me.

I almost felt sorry for him. The poor boy didn't realize that he was playing games with a deadly spider. Once a victim was trapped in my scarlet spider web, there was no escape. Conan would be trapped like a tiny insect in a silky cocoon. I would digest him slowly, and his agony would be my amusement.

I knew I had to be fit and limber to win this game. I spent the next few days working out and doing complex yoga postures.
Turn the Tables

Conan picked me up at my apartment on Friday. He put his arm securely around my waist as he walked me to the limo, but he was unusually quiet as we drove to a diner in Queens.

We walked into the diner with his two bodyguards, but they sat at a table on the other side of the restaurant.

"How was your week?" Conan asked, his eyes darting from side to side as we waited for our food.

"I had a good rest."

"I was worried when you didn't reply to my messages."

"I needed a break."

"Have you thought about being exclusive with me?"

"Yes. I've thought about it long and hard." I was stronger than anything this man could throw at me, and I was determined to complete my mission. "I agree."

"Good. I was worried that you were having second thoughts."

"I was, initially, but I don't see why we shouldn't try it."

"I'm glad." He took a sip of water. "I was thinking about you all week. It took a lot of self-control not to visit."

"Are you into sadomasochistic games?"

"That's a rather direct question." He hesitated. "But yes, it's one side of my personality. Does it bother you?"

"Ha." I laughed. "You don't know me very well."

"You surprise me Scarlet." He put his muscular arms on the table. "Are you surprised by my kinks? Are you sure you're comfortable with them?"

"Nothing surprises me anymore." That was the truth. "I'm okay with your kinks. In fact, I enjoy them." I was ready to up the stakes of this game.

"Really?"

"Yes. I had fun the last time we were together. It was better than vanilla sex. But the thing is, I think we need to take turns."

"What do you mean?" He looked alarmed.

"You can be dominant sometimes," I said, staring him in the eye. "But you also have to submit to me."

"Hold on, I don't know about that." He looked down at the table. "It's not in my nature to submit to anyone."

"Being in control all the time is tiring. Yes?" I knew every man who sought control held a deep longing for someone else to free his body and mind.

"Um," he lowered his voice, "sometimes." He picked up his glass with trembling fingers.

"That's why we should take turns," I said softly, reaching across to steady his hand. "Reversing roles sometimes is good. I'll free you from having to be in control all the time. I'll take you places you've never been." If I ever hoped to regain control in this relationship, I had to make him my slave.

"I'm not agreeing to anything yet." He shifted his weight. "I've never submitted to a woman. I suppose I could try ... for you. You're gorgeous and those beautiful legs drive me wild."

"Good." I smiled and ran my foot up the inside of his leg. "We'll explore this together."

* * *

The chauffeur drove us to Conan's apartment after dinner. It was time to turn the tables.

I went into the powder room off the front hall and changed into a very short black silk chemise with white lace trim. Conan had a weakness for my legs, and I was going to exploit it. I put on sexy red lipstick and black patent leather stilettos with three-inch heels.

I perched myself on the edge of the sofa with my arms back and my legs crossed. I was ready to go in for the kill.

"Oh," he said, walking into the living room. "You're ready, huh?"

"Haven't you been waiting for this all week?" I hissed.

"I ... um ... I think I need a drink." He took off his light-blue tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. He glanced at my bare legs as he walked into the kitchen.

Conan wasn't so bold without his whiskey. I knew he was nervous and I smiled to myself.

He returned with the decanter and two short glasses full of ice. He sat down on a chair across from me and poured the whiskey.

"There you are," he said, placing the drink in my cupped hands and running his fingers through his dark-brown hair.

"Thank you." Conan looked simply delicious with his mussed hair. It was hard not to touch him. I wanted to unbutton the rest of his buttons and feel his warm flesh against mine. I shook my head slightly to get rid of my lustful thoughts.

"How do you feel?" he asked, taking a sip of his liquor.

"I don't have a particular fondness for whiskey, but I like drinking it with you, Mr. Casey." I tasted the whiskey with the tip of my tongue as I uncrossed and crossed my legs the other way.

"Your legs Scarlet, they're very ... distracting ... arousing," he mumbled.

_I know_. I taunted him by running my fingers up and down the sides of my legs. His eyes followed my hand, mesmerized. I ran my fingers up between my breasts, over my neck, and to my mouth. Conan was leering at me with the stare I saw that first day in his office. He was a ravenous wolf staring at a bone, barely able to control himself as he contemplated his coming meal.

"Be patient, Mr. Casey." I sipped my whiskey and licked my lips. "We have plenty of time. The night is young."

He lunged forward and grabbed my neck, pulling me toward him and sucking my lips. I stood up and shoved him back into his chair.

"Behave yourself, sir!" I scolded him as I fixed my hair and sat back down, crossing my legs. "You're a very naughty boy." I was pleased with myself for making him lose control.

"I'm sorry." Conan closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. "Scarlet, I don't know how long I can control myself. I'm hard. You're torturing me ... and getting off on it."

"Aw, can't control yourself? You poor little boy. You'll just have to try harder." I dipped my finger in my whiskey and slid it over his lips before I took a sip. "Tell me about your day. How was work?" I wanted to drive him crazy with desire.

"It was fine. You know what my days are like." He gulped down the rest of his drink and licked his lips with his thick tongue. "I've missed you. Stop teasing me." He turned away, breathing heavily.

"Are you ready to serve me?" I had to show him who was in control. I needed him to know that I wasn't the subservient secretary I'd been making out to be.

"Serve you?" He looked like a wounded wolf pup.

"Yes. I submitted to you last week ... served your desires. Now it's your turn to serve me."

"How can I serve you?"

"You can start by calling me Mistress Scarlet."

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Mistress Scarlet."

"Good boy." I stood up and stroked his cheek. "Now kiss my hand."

He kissed the back of my hand as he looked up at me with forlorn eyes.

"Please Scarlet ... stop teasing me. You ..."

"Shush! If you want to have me, you'll worship me." I lifted my foot onto his lap and pressing down with my heel. "Kiss my foot."

"Oh boy." Conan tugged at the back of his hair. "Why are you ..."

"Why am I WHAT?" I dug my stiletto into his thigh. I wanted to tie him up and torture him as payback for gagging and humiliating me, but I didn't want to scare him too much ... yet. "I told you to kiss my foot."

He bent over and kissed the top of my foot.

"That was easy, wasn't it?" I took my foot off his leg and laughed hysterically as I ran my fingers over the dent I'd left in his pants. _I'll bring this wolf to heel yet_.

"I love your evil laugh."

"Are you forgetting something? What do you call me?"

"Mistress Scarlet."

"I'm only evil to you, Mr. Casey," I said as I sat down, "because you were cruel to me at work. You know that, don't you?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be cruel. I want to impress you. You're my princess."

"No, I'm your Scarlet Queen. You've been very ignoble to your queen, and you must make it up to her."

"How may I serve you my Scarlet Queen?"

"Kneel before me." I stamped my foot.

Like an obedient knight, Conan got down on one knee and reached for my hands. "Your hands are so smooth," he said as he softly kissed my fingers.

"I like that." I purred like a contented cat. "Are you a slave to my love?"

"Yes my Scarlet Queen. May I kiss your foot?"

"Yes, you may."

He lifted my dainty heel to his lips and gently started kissing my foot. He worked his way up to my ankle before I snatched away my leg.

"Don't you like that my Scarlet Queen?" he asked, looking upset.

"I said you could kiss my foot, not my ankle. You have to listen and obey. Do you understand?"

"Yes ... I'm sorry. I want to please you, but you're driving me insane."

"I can see that." I laughed wickedly as I nodded at the bulge in his pants. "I suppose you're doing well. Perhaps it's time for me to reward you."

I leaned forward and undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt, making sure that my cleavage was in his face. His eyes were wild with desire and his chest was heaving.

"Give me your arms."

Conan obediently held out his arms. I removed his cuff links and placed them on the glass coffee table.

"Let me see that beautiful torso of yours. Take off your shirt." Dominating Conan like this gave me a high I'd never felt before. I understood why he wanted me to submit to him. It was different than dominating my targets. I knew doing this with Conan would end in spasms of pleasure, not a bloody mess. There was nothing deceitful in this. I was going to deliver the promised pleasure.

He was panting in front of me on the floor as I admired his half-naked body. I had an urge to dig my claws into his chiseled muscles, but I held back. As I kissed his lips, I gently moved my fingers down his chest, sliding them inside his waistband. Conan groaned and closed his eyes.

_I have him now_. He was a fool, crawling into my scarlet web. I was his Scarlet Queen and there was no escape. _It won't be long before he realizes he's in love with me_.
The Secret Engagement

I woke up naked next to Conan's sleeping body and thought about our passionate night. I was finally in control and I intended to keep it that way.

I walked into the bathroom to wash up. There was a heart-shaped velvet box in a basket beside the sink. I hadn't noticed it before and I opened it out of curiosity. It contained a diamond solitaire ring. Conan knew I didn't like diamonds, and I knew the ring wasn't for me. _Is this his last secretary's engagement ring_?

I stormed over to the bed and shook Conan. He rolled over and opened his eyes.

"What is this?! I damn well know it's not for me! Who's it for?!" I had one hand on my hip as I waved the sparkling diamonds under his nose.

"Scarlet, hold on," he said, propping himself up on an elbow.

"Tell me EVERYTHING before I slice your face with this rock!" I imagined dragging the ring across his cheek, leaving a crimson trail of blood. _I should just kill him now. I'd be doing him a favor. What greater joy could there be than being freed from this pathetic, miserable existence by your lover_?

"It belonged to my ex-fiancée. She gave it back before she left me."

"Your ex-fiancée?" I hissed. "This is the first I've heard of your _ex-fiancée_. Were you ever going to tell me about her? Why the hell do you still have the ring?"

"Scarlet, you don't understand. I don't want to talk about it."

"You're damn right I don't understand. From where I'm standing, it looks like you're just a run-of-the-mill lying scumbag. Lies by omission are still lies."

"I can explain."

"Go on. I'm listening." I dangled the ring off my little finger. "You better hurry up before I flush your precious ring down the toilet." I'd hoped he was a different breed, but he was just an animal ... like all the other men.

"Scarlet, please don't do that."

"I'm giving you one chance." I gave him a deadly stare. I breathed in slowly, trying to calm myself. I had to get control of my emotions before I did something I'd regret.

"Okay, okay," he said. "I was engaged to my last secretary. She worked for me for three years. Things got really bad toward the end."

"All the more reason to ask _again_ , why did you keep the engagement ring?"

"I don't know ... for the good memories ... to remind me that I might find love one day ... or to remind me how a woman almost destroyed me. I don't know!"

"Ah, I see." I rolled the ring between my thumb and index finger. "And what if I destroy your precious ring?"

"Don't Scarlet. Give it back to me." Conan swung his legs over the side of the bed and held out his hand.

"So you want the ring more than you want me?"

"It's not that."

He lunged at me and made a grab for the ring but I hopped out of reach.

"What other secrets are you keeping?" I asked as I leaned forward and glared at him. "You never even mentioned this woman. Do you honestly expect me to be okay with you keeping her _engagement_ ring, this reminder of your lost love?"

"No, of course not," he said, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "I can't explain it, but the ring kept me going."

"Why? Relationships fail all the time."

"She used me until she found someone better. It's painful to talk about."

"That may be, but if you're holding on to this ring it's obvious that you still need to process whatever happened. Talk."

"She tore down all my walls and made me trust her. Then she took everything she could get. She never loved me. She just used me ... and nearly bankrupted me." Conan started to sob and he buried his head in his hands. "I paid off her school loans and all her debts. I gave her a condo and supported her career ambitions. I bought her a new wardrobe, paid for dance lessons and an acting coach, used my contacts to get her auditions ... but it was never enough. She was desperate to be famous and I did everything I could to help her. I never denied her anything. Then she found _him_. His mother's a famous actress."

"I'm sorry Conan." This rich, powerful man knew pain and suffering. Seeing his fragile side--the damaged, sentimental, delicate side--eased my fury.

Conan stood up. He was nude, like a knight who'd lost his armor. The morning sun glowed on his naked skin.

"Scarlet," he said, cupping my hands to his chest. "I'll do whatever it takes to get over this. I don't know if I love you, but I won't let my past destroy my future."

"I understand." I led him back to the bed and sat down next to him, holding his hands. I knew he was sincere and I felt strangely forgiving. I placed the ring in his palm. "Take it," I said, closing his fingers around the ring.

"Thank you."

He put his arms around me and squeezed. I felt a warm tear roll down my cheek.

"Scarlet, I hope to give you a ring one day, but I can't do that until I'm ready. It will symbolize my undying love, my desire to spend the rest of my life with you in sickness or in health, in pain or in joy."

The morning sun filtered through the white curtains and warmed our skin. I held him close and felt his delicate heartbeat against my chest. As I lost myself completely in Conan's embrace, my old grievances toward mankind melted away. I felt that there was hope.

* * *

Conan's chauffeur drove me home. I fed Milky and exercised until I was exhausted.

I lay on the floor and stared out the window. Conan gave his love and it was abused, but he still believed in love. _Do I still believe in love_? _How can I truly love when the world has only taught me pain_?

The chances of being with Conan were slim, but I wished I could let him see the real me behind the masquerade. I didn't want to lose the game I was playing for the White Queen, but I was terrified of losing him. I'd give up anything to be with him, yet I knew there was no happily ever after in our future.

I thought about all the men I'd killed--my stepfather, all the targets ... victims. The White Queen called them targets, but they were victims hunted down and murdered in cold blood. Who was she to be judge and jury? What gave her the right to send out her assassins to eliminate the competition? They were bad men, yes, but wasn't she just as bad?

_I'm a murderer, a sick, sick psycho without a heart, without a mind of my own_ ... _a live killing machine_. I needed to be free of the White Queen and her missions. I needed to live my life for me, not as a disposable pawn on her chess board.

I was ashamed of myself--my life, my lies, my murders. I killed my stepfather in self-defense, but I'd taken many other lives for no good reason.

Milky licked my face and lay down next to me. _I could never kill her or Conan_. _Maybe I'm not that bad_. _Maybe I can be redeemed_.
Haunted

I was back at work on Monday. I spent the morning trying to catch up with last week's work.

Mimi popped by my desk before lunch. After all these months working in a big corporation, she still looked like an anime schoolgirl.

"Hey Scarlet, let's go for lunch," she chirped.

"All right. Just a sec."

"Why are you so busy?"

"I was out last week, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

"Okay, lets go," I said, leaving neat little piles all over my desk. "Should we see if Liza wants to join us?"

"Sure." Mimi followed me to the elevator.

We went down to the accounting department on the fourteenth floor. I could barely see the top of Liza's thick black glasses behind the mountain of files on her desk. Liza's code name was the Pyro. She was a hot-tempered Latina. We'd been on a few of the same missions before, but we'd never worked together. I once asked Vanus if Liza could help me with a difficult task and she said Liza prefers to work alone.

"Hey Liza. We're going to lunch. Want to come?" I asked.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Liza continued typing furiously without even glancing at us.

"We'll be at Café Ristretto if you change your mind," I said.

"Okay," said Liza as she fed some pages into the shredder by her desk.

Mimi and I took the crowded elevator down to the lobby with the rest of the worker rats. We walked over to the café and bought lunch. It was cold but sunny and we sat at a table on the empty patio.

"How's it going in operations? Do you like working with Miller?" I asked.

"I'm bored out of my skull. Miller's a balding middle-aged man with a young wife and kids. He's dull and the job's monotonous. I wish the mission was almost over, but it's going to take some time to get the info the White Queen wants."

"Maybe you should hit on Miller for the fun of it."

"Ha ha, very funny," said Mimi. "I have the hots for an accountant in Liza's department. He's really good looking and he goes to the gym."

"Maybe he has a thing for Asian girls. Why don't you join the gym and see if he hits on you?"

"I just might do that to spice things up." Mimi blushed and folded back the paper wrapper on her sandwich. "But I'd still prefer working for someone young and naughty like Conan. How are things with him?"

"Better."

"Do you still like him?" Mimi leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. She stared at me as she took a bite of her sandwich.

"It's under control," I said calmly, sipping my coffee.

"Good." Mimi leaned back in her chair just as her phone rang. "Scar, it's Vanus. I have to talk to her." Mimi stood up and walked to the other side of the patio.

I wasn't surprised that Mimi was bored with Miller and the corporate world. I thought about the mobster mission. It was one of the first assignments Mimi and I were sent on together. Playing mobster molls and having meetings in dark alleyways under the watchful eye of the moon was fun at first.

Mimi had to get close to the mob boss Vargen. They were together all the time and he was truly infatuated with her. Vargen was usually crude and rude, shouting insults and orders at everyone, but he was like a sweet little puppy around Mimi.

I don't know how the mobsters found out that we were agents, but I'll never forget the day they confronted us. They told us to meet them in an alley for a drug buy. As Mimi and I walked down the filthy alley I knew something wasn't right, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I heard laughing and I looked over my shoulder. Vargen and four of his guys were walking up behind us, and when I turned around another five had just turned into the alley.

"You sluts really think you can take us down for that she-devil boss of yours?!" yelled Vargen.

Mimi and I stood back-to-back. We took out our knives and slowly began moving in a circle so that we could each get a view of the whole situation.

"I got this boys," said Vargen. "I'm going to personally teach these stupid little bitches a lesson."

Vargen attacked me with his dagger as his henchmen watched. It was obvious that he wasn't trained--he held the blade loosely and he was clumsy. I kicked the knife out of his hand, he lost his balance, and I pierced him between the ribs. A bloodstain immediately appeared on his shirt, but I knew the wound wasn't fatal.

"Mimi!" I shouted. "Finish him!"

Mimi looked at Vargen and hesitated. He was kneeling on the ground trying to stop the bleeding with his hands. I stabbed him again and twisted the blade. Vargen collapsed into a heap just as one of his men ran up behind Mimi. I shoved her out of the way and felt a knife slice through the left side of my abdomen. I swiftly turned and stabbed the mobster in the kidney. Vargen was gasping for breath and I knew I must've punctured his lung. Mimi closed his eyes and delivered the fatal wound as tears ran down her cheeks.

A white van screeched into the alley. It would've run down most of Vargen's boys if they hadn't scattered in terror. Four agents chased after the mobsters and Vanus ran over to me. She helped me to the van as I clutched my side, leaving a red trail in my wake.

My crescent scar is a permanent reminder of Mimi's weakness for love. I covered the scar with concealer every day because I wanted my body to be a flawless figurine, but this blemish would be with me forever. _If I'm ever killed on a mission, I'll die in my perfect body._

"Janet? Janet?" Mimi called as she tapped on the table and picked up her sandwich.

"Yes." I snapped out of my memories. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

"You daydream too much," said Mimi. "It's not good for you ... and it's downright dangerous in public. You're an agent, you have to be alert at all times."

"I know. I just can't help it sometimes. The past keeps coming back to haunt me."

"Put it out of your mind. Force yourself to think of something else when that happens ... or chant ... do whatever you have to do to get rid of those thoughts."

"Don't you ever think about the past?"

"No," said Mimi. "I only think of the here and now. I can barely remember yesterday."

Now I understood. Mimi didn't hold on to her emotions or collect memories. She lived in the present, doing whatever was necessary in each moment to keep moving.

"Do you ever miss Vargen?"

"No." Mimi put down her sandwich and began chewing on her fingernails. "We had some fun all right, but I was only with him for the assignment. It was my job."

"Didn't you love him?"

"I don't think so. He was great company, but we were more like friends with benefits. Anyway, I knew we were only using each other. He was only interested in my body and I was only interested in completing the mission."

"Really?" I lowered my voice. "Then why didn't you do it? Why didn't you go in for the kill when you had the chance?"

"Huh." Mimi stopped biting her fingernails. "I'm not sure. I just couldn't do it in that moment. I'm sorry Scarlet." She grabbed my hand and held it tightly. "I guess I had some feelings for him. You know I don't like killing. It's all in the past. I don't want to think about it."

"I understand."

I crushed the remnants of my sandwich in the wrapper and sipped my coffee. If Mimi could overcome her emotions and attachment to Vargen, why couldn't I do the same? _Am I in love with Conan_? _Is that why I can't bear the thought of losing him_? _Am I a fool fighting for a love I can never have_?
Blood Rubies

"It's been a tough week." Conan sighed. "There's too much to do and too little time."

"You can say that again. I'm glad it's Friday," I replied.

"I wish I could build a time machine. I'd be able to get all my work done and spend more time with you."

"I'm here all day long five days a week," I said, pointing at my desk. "What more could you ask for?"

"A lot." Conan caressed my cheek and kissed my forehead. "You heal me Scarlet ... right here." He placed my hand on his muscular chest.

"Okay Mr. Mush." My cheeks were burning with embarrassment. "Are we going to dinner?"

"Yes, but I have to come back afterward."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you about it at dinner."

* * *

The limo pulled up to the Ritz-Carlton on Central Park South. Conan's bodyguards escorted us into the aquamarine building and we took the elevator up to the Black restaurant.

Conan gave the maître d' his name. We were taken to a private dining room and the bodyguards stood outside the doorway. The waiter took our order and left, shutting the door behind him.

"Why do you have to work tonight?" I asked sweetly.

"A very nasty situation has arisen. White Holdings is buying up too much Wilmar stock for comfort. I've called an emergency meeting of the board at nine tonight."

"White Holdings?" There it was. The White Queen was making her next move.

"Are you telling me you've never heard of them?" Conan asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Um." _Is he on to me_? _Did he bring me to this private dining room to dispatch me_? _It's easy to get a corpse out of a hotel without raising suspicion_. "Of course I've heard of them. I came across the name when I was applying for jobs, but I wasn't interested in working for them. I guess I just put the name out of my mind."

"They're a huge conglomerate headquartered here. They're known for great pay and benefits across all their companies. Why wouldn't you want to work for them?" Conan asked, staring at me.

"I'm not sure." I clasped my hands and placed my elbows on the table. "Okay, I confess, I saw an article about you and your picture made me want to apply to be your secretary."

"Is that right?" Conan smiled and looked down at the table. "Well I guess lady luck was with me that day."

"It seems like lady luck is often with you these days, Mr. Casey." I smiled and played with a lock of my hair, hoping to distract him.

"Sometimes. Anyway, we never thought of White Holdings as a direct threat until this week. I'm concerned that they're going to try a hostile takeover."

The waiter came into the room. He quickly served our entrées before rushing away and closing the door.

"That doesn't sound good," I said, poking my white fish fillet with my knife. My stomach began to churn.

"It's not good at all." Conan took a bite of his bloody steak. "Mrs. White, the owner of White Holdings, is more concerned with power than profit. That's what makes her so dangerous, not to mention that she can be utterly ruthless. I've heard rumors. Anyway, if they get a majority stake in Wilmar it's going to be very, very bad news for our investors, and our plans. White has a track record of screwing investors and upper management. It's great for the employees because they don't cut jobs, but upper management salaries, bonuses, and profits take a nosedive ... and White Holdings usually ends up with some sort of monopoly."

I couldn't believe Conan was telling me all this for no reason. I was convinced that he was trying to get me to confess and turn on the White Queen ... or worse. It was bad enough that I'd fallen for him. I could probably still get away with my life, but if I turned double agent--and the White Queen found out--she'd have me killed.

"Scarlet, I think we need to talk."

"About what?" I asked with my best poker face. _Is this it_? I put down my fork and felt for the switchblade in my heel. _If he's on to me I'll have to cut his vocal cords and make the bodyguards believe I'm just going to the ladies, then I can make a run for it_.

"I know finding the ring last weekend was a shock. I'm sorry."

"Thanks." _Phew, I'm safe_ ... _for now._ "I'm sorry too ... for reacting like a lunatic."

"Don't be. I understand," said Conan. "I'm working on putting that whole ugly episode with my ex behind me, but it will take a bit of time. Can you be patient with me?"

"How patient?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't want anything to change between us. I'd still like you to spend weekends with me. I'm just not ready to make any promises about the future."

"Conan, I'm not really sure what you're saying." I wanted to ask him if we had a chance at a real future or not, but I couldn't talk about that until I was free of the White Queen. I still had to find my mother, and that meant completing the mission.

"All I know right now is that I want to do something nice for you, something to show you how special you are to me."

"Like what?" I asked in a sultry voice.

"Well, I know you don't like diamonds. So which gems do you like? Rubies? Emeralds? Sapphires?"

"Thinking of showering your love with some expensive jewelry?"

"I love showering a ravishing beauty with the beautiful things she deserves."

"Oh you're good Mr. Casey." I smiled. "I like red rubies. They remind me of my name."

"Red rubies for my Scarlet Queen. I should've guessed," he said, staring at me like a hungry wolf. "Will you meet me at my apartment later? It's my turn to be in control and I've been thinking about what I'll do to you."

"Mr. Casey, control yourself," I teased. "Don't ever forget that you serve the Scarlet Queen."

"I won't. I'm sorry." Conan blushed and stroked his water glass with his long fingers. "I can't help myself. You stoke my desires ... turn me into a wild beast."

"As I should." I felt blood rush down my spine and I ran my foot up his leg. "But I can't meet you later."

"Why not? Is something wrong? Are you still upset about the ring?"

"No, nothing's wrong," I lied. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with my knight before the White Queen put Wilmar in checkmate, but I wasn't convinced that he didn't know I was an agent. "I have to feed my cat, and I want to get an early night."

"I'm disappointed, but I won't hold it against you."

"Next time," I said, tilting my head and twirling a lock of hair behind my ear.

"I'll hold you to that." Conan smiled and ate the last bite of his steak. "So, when did you get your cat? What's its name?"

"Her name is Milky. She was a stray who appeared at my kitchen window the day I moved into my apartment. I gave her food and she kept coming back. I eventually decided to keep her."

"I'm not surprised that your powers of enchantment extend to animals."

"My powers?" I laughed. "You flatter me."

"Never," he said, squeezing my hand in earnest. "Scarlet, I don't think you truly realize the affect you have on me."

"I'd love to hear more, but a cat's got to eat and a man's got to get back to work." My stomach was still churning and I'd had enough of this game. I was anxious to get home ... safely.

"You're right." Conan looked at his watch. "I must go protect the profits ... so that I can buy pretty things for my Scarlet Queen."

"You make that sound like a bad thing. Life without a good woman is pretty meaningless for most men."

"I can't deny that." Conan smiled and kissed my hand.

"It's eight forty-five. You don't have time to take me home. I'll just get a cab."

"My driver can drop you off after he takes me to the office."

"That's all right." The last thing I wanted was to be alone with one of Conan's guys. Just because he didn't knock me off it didn't mean that one of his guys wouldn't. "Poor little Milky must be starving, and I don't want to risk pissing her off. She has her own ways of getting revenge." "As you wish," said Conan as we walked to the elevator.

* * *

I turned on the radio and closed the curtains as soon as I got home. Then I called Mimi.

"Hey Scar, what's up?" Mimi asked.

"I think Wilmar could be on to us. We have to be extra careful."

"What happened?"

"I just had dinner with Conan and he told me he's having an emergency meeting with the board tonight to discuss White Holdings. It looks like the White Queen could be going for a hostile takeover and Conan's calling battle stations."

"Oh crap."

"No kidding! I thought he knew I was an undercover agent for White Holdings. I think we need to stay in closer contact from now on."

"Stay safe," said Mimi. "I'll let Vanus know and she'll get the word out."

"Thanks Mimi. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Night Janet," said Mimi and she hung up.

Milky sat at my feet and started meowing. "Don't worry Milks, I won't betray you too." We went to the kitchen and I gave Milky her favorite canned tuna.

Serving two masters was really starting to take its toll on me. I had to finish my mission, but I wanted a future with Conan--an impossible future. I needed to reconnect with my real self before I was subsumed by one of my fake identities.

I walked over to the large mirror in my living room and took off my clothes. _I spend more time in front of this mirror than watching television_ ... _oh well, I suppose it's better to watch myself than an electronic box full of lies_.

I studied the shadows in the mirror before turning around and caressing the tattoo in the middle of my lower back. The two isosceles triangles were joined at their apices--one on top of the other--to make a simple red hourglass.

The tattoo was my graduation gift to myself. It was a testament to my new identity and my new life. I'd never forget the pain of the thin needle piercing my flesh. What I wasn't expecting was the euphoria once my body began releasing endorphins. The mixture of pain and pleasure was ecstasy. Getting my tattoo introduced me to secret, dark pleasures. I would always be a marked prisoner, but I was a liberated soul.

I thought about the White Queen's world. She inflicted pain on her enemies to protect the weak. Were her pure intentions made impure by her cruelty? _Sometimes you have to do evil to be good_ ... _I guess_.

I inspected myself in the mirror. My hair almost reached down to my slim waist, and all my muscles were toned. I rubbed the dark crescent scar on my left side. It was the only blemish on my perfect body--a permanent reminder of Mimi's betrayal. I hissed angrily at the mirror.

I grabbed my notebook and lay on my bed.

"This is the stronger me,

Alone in this world.

This is how I feel.

This is who I am."

I dozed off and woke up in a cold sweat. My life had been flickering before my eyes in slow motion.

I'd dreamt that I was back at the farm. I was sitting on the white glider bench, gently rocking back and forth. The sun was blazing and I was staring off into the sunflower fields. "Get up!" my stepfather screamed, slapping me across the face with his huge hand. "Get inside and do the chores!" he commanded in his booming voice.

The scene suddenly changed. Conan and I were standing on the roof of the tallest building in the universe. We were lost in space, looking down at the lights twinkling below us. We made love, sweetly kissing and caressing each other. "Do we have a soul link?" I asked. "Does our love transcend the physical? Does it exist beyond this dimension?"

I was transported to the White Queen's office and she was a dressed like a huge snowy owl with flowing white feathers that covered the room. "It's wrong to fall in love!" she squawked, pointing her long finger-like talon in my face. "Love is for the weak! You're my Red Hourglass and you're strong ... too strong for love!" She ran her pointed nails along my cheek. "I made you into a deadly black widow, and all you have to do is finish your mission. You know you're my best assassin," she assured me softly. "Listen to me my darling, and you'll never be hurt again ... never feel pain again." Her haunting voice trailed off into the distance as I jerked awake.

My notebook was next to me and two lines popped into my head.

"When life and death are a blade apart,

It's hard to tell what's real and what's not."

I got up and switched off the lights before stumbling back to bed.
The Plan

I had a voicemail from Vanus when I woke up. She said to report to the mansion immediately. I sent her a text as I was leaving my apartment.

I boarded the train at Grand Central Station and settled in for the journey. The carriage was empty and I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. I slipped my earbuds into my ears.

"Won't you hold me now ... nothing matters but the two of us ..." a song blasted. The lyrics clicked with me and my mind began to race.

_What if I don't really want to complete the mission_? _Could our love fight the forces of the White Queen and free me_? _Are we destined to be together in this lifetime_?

"If our love is a tragedy, why are you my clarity?" the song continued.

_If our love is a tragedy, why does Conan seem to be the solution to all my problems_? _Maybe our love isn't a tragedy at all. Maybe it's pointing me to something more_.

"You're a piece of me I wish I didn't need ... still I chase you relentlessly ... I don't know why ..."

_The more I try to run from his love, the more I fall back into him_. _He's my anchor_. _I need him. I can't stand alone any longer_. _I'm a rat trapped in a maze._ _Maybe I won't be with him in this lifetime, but he'll forever be deeply engraved on my heart --like a scarlet letter_. _Our love will be a secret we share forever_.

I ripped out my earbuds and went to the restroom to splash cool water on my face. As I walked back to my seat, images of the White Queen and my sisters flashed through my mind--the night the White Queen saved me, sparring with Mimi, having coffee with Vanus.

_Will I ever be able to lead a normal life_? _They're all part of me, how can I leave them_? _If I try to leave, will the White Queen send Mimi and Vanus to kill me_?

I stared out the window at the countryside whizzing by. I didn't understand how I could even be thinking of going to the other side--going against my ideals--but I was desperate to be done with my double life. I wished Conan and I could escape to a deserted island.

_Am l willing to risk death to be with my love_?

* * *

A white Mercedes-Benz picked me up from the train station. I sat into the back seat and closed my eyes. When I opened them we were pulling up to the gates with the gigantic white and gold coat of arms. The guards made me get out of the car and go through the usual security procedures before they let us in.

The mansion on the hill never ceased to impress me. It was a glorious structure, a monument to the past. _Places like this aren't built anymore_.

I rang the bell and the butler opened the door. He nodded toward the state room off the grand entrance hall without saying a word.

The double doors were open and there was a projector in the middle of the room. The White Queen was sitting in a high-back white leather armchair. She was wearing her white mink coat and her moonstone ring was glistening in the sunlight.

"My darling Janet, come here to me," said the White Queen, opening her arms. "Thank you for last night's report."

"Hello Mama. You're welcome," I said. Hugging her was like hugging a huge furry animal.

"Sit down." She waved to the empty seat beside her. "Your sisters will be here soon."

A maid in a black dress with a white apron came in through a side door. She was carrying a tray with a sterling silver tea service. She poured tea into delicate white china teacups with a floral pattern and handed us the cups on thin saucers.

"How's the tea?" the White Queen asked.

"Nice." I nodded my head and smiled as I sipped the jasmine and chamomile concoction like an obedient child. It smelled like perfume, but I wasn't going to tell the White Queen that. I felt like Alice in Wonderland having tea with the Queen of Hearts. _I wish this were a Coke_.

"Good, good. We'll have lunch after the meeting."

"Do you have any news about my mother?"

"My dear, searching for her at this point is probably futile. She may not even be alive." The White Queen looked at her long nails. "But if you complete your mission, I promise you we'll intensify our efforts."

"Have your spies looked in New York City? That's where she was born ... according to the birth certificate. When I was a child she told me stories about the Big Apple. I think if she's anywhere it's got to be there."

"Lovey, sometimes people disappear on purpose. Maybe she doesn't want to be found. You must prepare yourself for the worst ... in case we can't find her."

"Mama, you promised you would help me find her."

"And I will. In the meantime, we must focus on the mission."

"Yes Mama."

"Mother, I've missed you!" Vanus sprang into the room like a green fairy. She and the White Queen hugged each other warmly.

A twinge of jealously washed over me. I missed my mother and hated her at the same time. I craved her warm embrace, but I'd still kill her on sight for abandoning me. She left me all alone in the cruel world and I'd never forgive her. I pinched my left hand to control my emotions.

Winda was next to arrive. She was about five feet nine, lean, and muscular. Her body was built for combat. I'd never seen her fight, but I imagined that she was swift and smooth, striking her targets like an unexpected gust of wind. I wasn't sure that I could take her in a fight, and I didn't want to find out.

Liza, the fiery Latina--aka the Pyro--walked in behind Winda. She was wearing jeans and an orange sleeveless top that exposed her toned arms. She had dark-brown curly hair and the sharp green eyes of a deadly panther. There was a disgruntled look on Liza's face as she flopped into an armchair and tilted her head. She began playing with her Zippo, making clicking sounds as she flipped the lid up and down with her thumb.

Mimi and about fifteen other girls I didn't know straggled in. As far as I knew, they weren't all on the assignment and I wondered why they were joining us.

"My darlings, welcome home." The White Queen rose from her chair like an empress. She walked to the center of the room, her white fur coat trailing behind her. "Armand, the projector please," she said to the butler.

He nodded and switched on the projector. The first slide was a newspaper article. The title read: "Zhong Yuan Holdings increases stake in Wilmar Enterprises."

The White Queen waddled over to the screen. When she inhaled she reminded me of a snowy owl puffing itself up to scare off predators.

"My girls, I want to thank you for the excellent job your doing on the Wilmar assignment. Because of your fine work, our way forward is now clear. Zhong Yuan Holdings is buying up Wilmar stock and the companies are planning a merger. If it goes through, our city will no longer belong to us. Our job is to make sure the merger doesn't happen. Armand."

The next slide appeared on the screen. It was a headshot of a man.

"This is Hao, the CEO of Zhong Yuan. He'll be bringing his board to meet with Wilmar and sign-off on the merger later this year. A few of you will be _entertaining_ the board members before the meeting. Your sisters working in Zhong Yuan have informed me that we won't be able to compromise Hao that way, but he's greedy. I'll see him before the meeting. If he doesn't accept my generous offer and agree to forget the merger, we'll have no choice but to _kidnap_ him. If we have to resort to that, his board will be scared off and the merger will fail. Of course, the evidence we'll collect against the _decent_ _family_ _men_ on the board will also help them make the right decision."

The White Queen went through slides of the Zhong Yuan board. She gave us a brief history of each board member, outlining their sexual weaknesses and other peccadilloes. They were bringing their own security, but some of my sisters would be working the underground Chinese casinos that the board members planned to visit. The casino owners were just as anxious as the White Queen to keep Zhong Yuan out of New York, and they were all working together to stop the merger.

"Any questions?" asked the White Queen.

"Why is White Holdings buying up Wilmar stock?" I asked.

"Janet," said the White Queen with a scowl, "Wilmar's developments are already destroying lives in our city. Haven't you noticed the increase in homelessness?" She polished her ring on her white mink and smiled. "Dearies, the easiest way to stop Wilmar's attack on New York is to take control of the company. We have to prevent the merger at all costs. That is our mission."

Mimi walked over to me and grabbed my arm. Her crystal clear Chinese eyes looked pained. I knew what that look meant--she didn't want to kill anyone--and I stroked her hair.
Confessions

The following Friday, Conan and I were in bed after dinner.

"Scarlet." Conan kissed my forehead. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" _Does he know I'm on a mission for the White Queen_?

"I've been debating whether or not I should tell you ..."

"Are you hiding something else from me? Are you afraid to tell me?"

"No, I'm not hiding anything else, but I'm afraid you'll take it badly."

"Tell me."

"I met my ex."

"WHAT!" I sat up and pulled the comforter around me.

"She called yesterday and asked to see me."

"And you met her?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I did," said Conan, sitting up.

"Why?"

"She wanted to talk to me in person. When we met she asked if she could borrow some money. She needs a major operation but she isn't working ... she doesn't have health insurance."

"Did you give her the money for this _major_ _operation_?"

"Yes."

"That's insane! Why did you do that?"

"She left Wilmar because of me. She didn't get any severance pay ... and she could've sued the company because of our involvement. I feel somewhat responsible for her situation, and I think helping her out is the least I can do."

"What did you do that made her leave?"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Conan.

"Was it because of your BDSM kinks?"

"No. Scarlet, please leave it alone."

"We've been dating for months and you've implied that you want a future with me, yet she's still in your heart. What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know." Conan's lips trembled. "She's not a good person and she's not good for me. She'll ruin me if I let her. Scarlet, you have to believe me when I tell you that I want nothing more than to get over her."

"I don't know about that," I said, staring him in the eye. "You can't get rid of her engagement ring and you've just given her loads of cash that you know she's unlikely to pay back. Why should I believe anything you say?"

"I don't know. But I do know that keeping the engagement ring isn't fair to you."

"I'm glad you at least know that much." I smirked. "But the fact of the matter is that you're in denial. The relationship is over and you're still waiting for her to come crawling back."

"I'm not in denial. I've accepted that she was too much for me to handle. I know it's over."

"I guess you've rescued yourself from her, but maybe I'm no better." I was angry. I couldn't trust his feelings for me and my feelings for him were too strong. "Watch out, or I may be the death of you yet."

"Scarlet, I wouldn't know what to do with my life if I hadn't met you. You saved me."

"Maybe I'm worse than your ex. For all you really know, I could be lethal."

"Don't say that ... I don't believe it. You're feisty and you have a tattoo, but I know you're as harmless as a butterfly."

"That's what you think." I scowled at him.

"She causes me pain and you bring me pleasure. Scarlet, I want to be with you."

"There's pain in every pleasure." I pinched his arm. I wanted to tie him to the bed and get out my blades. _You can't blow the mission, control yourself_. I stroked the red mark left by my pinch and smiled. "But the worst pain of all is knowing that your love was never returned. Can you promise me that you'll put the past behind you?"

"I need time to get over her."

"You've had time. Time moves on with each passing second. Every second that you keep her in your heart drives me away a little bit more."

"I don't want to drive you away, but maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I'm not ready for a relationship." He ran his fingers through his dark-brown hair. "I can't just forget her. Maybe I only needed you for company. I guess I've been selfish."

"I'll leave then," I said, standing up and reaching for my dress. I wanted to run him through with a sword. _The White Queen has everything under control._ _I'll keep working for him, but I don't have to stay close. She hasn't ordered me to kill him, but I wish she would_.

"No! Don't leave me Scarlet! I need you!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the bed.

"Conan, you're wasting my time. I don't like being toyed with." I slipped my dress over my head. "Call me when you get over that bitch."

"NO! Scarlet, I'm not toying with you! Please ... please just give me another chance."

"If I give you another chance, you'll have to be punished first ... severely. But I'm not convinced that I should waste any more energy on you. You're an idiot in denial. I'm much worse for you than she could ever be and you're too stupid to see it. I'm doing you a favor by ending this now."

"You can't walk away from me. Please ... punish me my Scarlet Queen. I submit." Conan lay back on the bed and stretched out his arms.

"You submit to be punished?"

"I submit to you completely my Scarlet Queen. Do whatever you have to. There's something in there that may help you." He nodded toward the nightstand on my side of the bed.

"I suppose this will do. Perhaps I can torture your ex out of you." I leaned over and pinched his nipples.

"Ah," he groaned as his cock grew hard.

"Before we start, I want you to kneel on the floor in front of me. Right now!" I slammed the black leather paddle into the bed.

"Yes my Scarlet Queen," he said, kneeling on the floor. "I'll do anything for you."

"Apologize to me for keeping the ring."

"I'm sorry for keeping the ring."

"Tell me that you're sorry for meeting your ex."

"I'm very sorry for meeting my ex."

"Worship my hand." I placed my delicate fingers in front of his face.

He kissed my hand and licked my fingers. Having this powerful man under my control was exciting, thrilling. I'd never played these games with a man I loved and my little girl was burning for him. She needed his manhood, but I wasn't done torturing him.

"Get on all fours like the dog you are," I screamed as I pushed his head toward the floor. "Crawl!"

He crawled past the end of the bed and looked at me with sad wolf pup eyes. He'd never been treated like this and I'd never been so aroused. I began cackling hysterically. _All men want to be dominated by a woman before they die. They're quite simple, really_.

"Come back to me puppy. Come on now." I clapped my hands.

Conan turned around and crawled back to me.

"Okay, enough doggie. Back up on the bed and lie on your side," I ordered as I raised his chin with my knee. "You've been naughty and you need to be spanked." I slapped his legs and bottom mercilessly with the leather paddle as he screamed in pain. I didn't stop until he was trembling. His ass was covered in red welts. "There, there," I said as I rubbed away the sting.

"Thank you," he groaned.

"Are you ready to service the Scarlet Queen?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm going to blindfold you first." I picked his tie up off the floor and tied it tightly over his eyes. "I trust you not to move," I whispered as I softly bit his earlobe. "If you do, I'll have to bind your hands. Do you understand?"

"Yes my queen."

I gave him a peck on the lips and slid my hand over his nipples and down his muscular torso. He looked sexy with the dark-gray blindfold over his handsome face. That I'd tied him with his work tie aroused me all the more. I flicked his erection and ran two fingers up and down it. Then I yanked him hard and made him yelp.

"Awe, did that hurt the poor puppy?"

"No ... my Scarlet Queen," he panted. "Everything you ... do to me ... is titillating."

"Of course it is. You belong with your Scarlet Queen." I glided my hands skillfully around his throbbing need, rubbing the head. A drop of pre-cum appeared on the tip. I wrapped my hand around him and squeezed. "Do you want me to lick you?"

"Yes."

"Say please."

"Yes please."

"Good boy."

I went down on Conan, licking his sweet pre-cum and taking his hardness into my mouth. His body was responsive to my every touch. He moaned softly as I licked him clean.

"Now it's time for my pleasure." I slipped out of my dress and took a condom off the nightstand. I unrolled it over his stiff cock and straddled him. He gasped in pleasure as I slowly lowered myself onto him.

"You're my toy," I moaned. I was riding him for my own pleasure, slowly grinding and going up and down. "How does it feel to be underneath me?"

"Perfect," he whispered as he thrust himself up and into me with a loud grunt.

Conan was a whimpering mess under my control. I'd never seen him so turned on and it was driving me crazy. I felt an orgasm building in me and I rode him harder and faster than I ever had before.

"Don't come until I scream yes. Understand?"

He nodded and groaned uncontrollably. _He's losing it_.

"Ah ... ah ... that's it." I was panting and drenched in sweat as he plunged himself up into my wetness. His pulsating cock filled me up and I couldn't hold back any longer. "Yes!" In that moment, I transcended my double life. I was playing my game by my rules. I belonged to no one. This was what I wanted for myself.

He gave a series of small grunts before letting out a deep moan as his body spasmed. I collapsed onto his strong chest and reveled in the bliss of our heavenly union.

"That was good," I said, kissing his lips as I rolled off him.

Conan's hair was a mess and I removed his blindfold. He just stared at me in awe.

"Scarlet," he finally said, "I've never been ... no one's ever. What have you done to me?"

"I've given you the time of your life. What else?"

"It's more than that, much more. I know now that I can't live without you," he said as he kissed my hands with his soft lips. "Oh God! I'm bound to you."

"I'm glad you've finally realized that. Are you ready to get rid of that ring?"

"Yes, of course. I'll sell it ... give it away ... whatever. I'll do it tomorrow," he said. "But what else can I do for you? I can't believe I've been such a fool. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

"What is there to do in this life except love?" _Why did I say that_?

"Let me show you my love. What do you want? What can I do? I'll do anything for you."

"I don't know what I want ... I just don't know." I sighed and turned away. I couldn't bear to look at him when I was dealing in truth. "There are things in this life that are beyond our control. We can't choose our destiny."

"What are you talking about? You and I control our destiny." Confusion washed over his face. "Unless ... is there someone else in your heart?"

"Yes," I replied. "I've been looking for someone for years. That's why I came here. I'm trying to find my mother."

"I didn't know," said Conan, resting his sharp chin on his long fingers. "What's her name?"

"Matilda Summers, but if she's alive she must've changed her name or gotten married. I've searched all the public records and I've come up with nothing, but she's the reason I'm here and I can't give up hope." My honesty surprised me.

"Is she in Manhattan?"

"She was born here. That's all I know."

"I'll help you find her," said Conan taking my hands and squeezing them tightly. "I'll do everything in my power to find her."

"Thank you," I said with hope and despair.

I would be free of the White Queen if he found my mother. My loyalties would no longer be divided and my life would be my own. _I can't get my hopes up_.
Things Change

I left Conan's apartment and walked to the subway. I needed to think.

Working as his secretary made it hard not to develop some sort of attachment to him, but I was a fool for getting romantically involved. I was the villain and he was my victim. It wasn't our destiny to be together.

My job was to do whatever the White Queen wanted me to do. She hadn't ordered Conan's death, but that could change. I was a black widow spider, and if she ordered me to kill him he'd end up dead ... just like all my other victims.

The threat of death was a constant in my profession, but I'd never feared it before. The White Queen had turned me into a skilled huntress and I never doubted my abilities, but something was different now. I couldn't help feeling that death was going to hunt me down before I was free and could tell Conan how I felt.

I caressed my crescent scar as the train rattled it's way through the tunnels under New York. _How can I continue being a huntress if I'm scared of death_?

* * *

Milky was at the front door when I got home. I fed her and sat in the kitchen, staring at the wall.

I looked at the seconds ticking away on the clock. It reminded me of grains of sand falling through an hourglass. I wished I could stop the grains, stop time. _When my time with Conan is up, our love will end_. He was a beacon of hope in my otherwise miserable double existence, a reason to carry on. I wanted to run faster than time so that we could be together, but I knew it was impossible. We could only be together if everything was different. _I may be able to stop myself from loving Conan, but I can't stop time and I can't change the way things are_.

I went to the living room and grabbed my notebook.

"In the quest for purity one can only meet corruption.

In the quest for idealism one can only land in realism.

In the quest for love, one can only find pain."

_Get a grip girl_! _Conan Casey isn't the only ray of hope in your life. You're defined by your achievements, not by a man._

I thought about another of Mimi's failed missions. She was working in a strip club and she was supposed to seduce the owner. Mimi fell in love with him, couldn't kill him, and ended up letting him go--but she told the White Queen she was drugged and he escaped. His activities continued to cause chaos in the city, and the White Queen had to send five of us to take care of him and his crowd. We all made it back without any injuries, but love made Mimi weak and she put her sisters in danger because she couldn't finish the job when she had the chance.

Love was the worst game an agent could play, and falling in love with a victim was sheer lunacy. _Agents in love fail their missions, their sisters, and the White Queen_. I'd never failed a mission, and I had no intention of failing this one. _Falling in love with a victim is taboo_ ... _and a curse_. I wanted to finish what I'd started, and I wasn't going to let love stop me.

_If I push my body to the very limits of exhaustion, my mind will cease to think and I won't be defeated by love_. I resolved to train my body and mind harder.

I unrolled my exercise mat and began with some stretches, followed by three difficult yoga postures, and then lunges. I got down on the floor and started doing crunches. After ten minutes of those, my stomach muscles were burning and the sweat was pouring off me.

_Sugar, I need sugar_. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a Coke from the fridge. As I emptied the can into a glass, the bubbles reminded me of the champagne Conan and I drank at dinner. I thought of his beautiful body, his enchanting voice, his gray wolf eyes, his wild smile. _Why am I so intrigued by this man_? _I'm weak from love and this has to stop_!

I hit the mat and started doing push-ups. "One, two, three ..."

It wasn't long before my mind started to wander again. _Is my love for Conan real_? _Do we really have a chance at a future together_? I told myself that what we had was only a temporary illusion--Mimi was right about that. Forces beyond our control were keeping us apart and that was just the way it was. There was nothing I could do to change it, but in time it would pass.

I shook my head and went back to my push-ups. "One hundred, one, two, three ..."

I collapsed face down on the two hundredth push-up. My body was hurting and completely drained, but my mind was still racing. I rolled over on my back and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

I couldn't stop thinking about Conan. _What the hell is wrong with me_? I had to banish these silly fantasies of an impossible future from my mind. I peeled myself off the floor and went into the bathroom. I stood under a cold shower until Conan was washed from my thoughts.

I was an orphan and the White Queen gave me shelter, an education, a new identity. She showed me kindness and saved me from starvation. I belonged with her and my sisters. They were the only real family I'd ever known.

When I was convinced that I'd conquered my emotions, another unsettling thought crept into my head: _I'll serve the White Queen and Conan for my own ends_.

* * *

"Welcome to the Platinum Lounge," said the blond woman in a silver cocktail dress. "How may I help you?"

"Two tickets please," said Conan.

"Certainly." She handed the tickets to him and gestured to her left. "The entrance is just over there. Dinner will be served before the film. Enjoy."

Conan held my hand as we walked into the silver and purple lounge. We sat on a purple velvet sofa in the corner and ordered coffee and dinner. The waiter was back with our coffee in a flash.

"My family wants to meet you," Conan said as he stirred his coffee.

"What?" I gasped. "You want to introduce me to your parents ... Mr. and Mrs. Wilmar?"

"Yes, and my sister. I've told them about you."

"What have you told them?"

"That we've been seeing each other for a few months," he said as he took my hand. "Scarlet, don't worry, they'll like you."

"When do you want me to meet them?"

"We're going to their place this weekend."

"Excuse me? This weekend?"

"Yes. Don't worry, it's just lunch." He squeezed my hand. "They don't bite and I didn't tell them we'd stay the night or anything. Relax. It'll be fine."

"Why didn't you ask me first?"

"I didn't want to give you a chance to say no."

"Well that was very _thoughtful_ of you," I said as I dug my nails into his hand before pulling away. "Why don't we have lunch here in the city, on neutral ground?"

"Scarlet, don't be so dramatic. There's no need for _neutral_ _ground_ , this isn't a peace summit." He rubbed the nail marks on his hand. "Anyway, they rarely dine away from home. There have been several recent attempts on my father's life. It's safer for us to meet them at their place."

"Can't you give me a little more time to prepare? Why can't we go next weekend?" _Were any of those failed attempts on Johnson Wilmar's life the work of the White Queen_? _What will she expect me to do if she finds out that I'll be at his house_?

"My sister's going to be too busy after next week. This is the only weekend she's available for a while."

"I could always meet her another time."

"Scarlet, I want you to meet them all at the same time. It's important to me. Please."

"Conan, you can't blame me for being nervous about going to your parents' house. I won't just be meeting your family, I'll be meeting the CEO of the company I work for. I've never met him before, and meeting him in his own home puts a lot of extra pressure on me. Can't you see that?"

"Yes," said Conan looking across the lounge. "But as you said, you're working in my father's company and he does try to make a point of meeting all the good employees. He's heard about you from HR as well ... not just me."

"Oh, so now there's more pressure on me." I stuck out my bottom lip and turned away. I was trying to avoid going to this lunch at all costs. The last thing I wanted was to have to kill the entire Wilmar family in their own home.

"Please Scarlet." Conan put his hand on my shoulder and turned me toward him. "I think you'll really like my sister. She's dying to meet you."

"Why can't she make it another time?" I asked.

"She owns an art gallery and they're getting ready for their first major show. The big opening is next weekend and she won't be able to leave the city until the show closes." Conan stroked my cheek. "You know, you remind me of her."

"In what way?"

"You're both playful. Come on. What do you say?"

"I don't know," I said. "It's all a bit sudden. I mean you still had your ex's engagement ring until three days ago. Your family will probably think I'm just your rebound girlfriend, filling in until you find someone better."

"You're right about the ring, of course. But the funny thing is that I've been telling them about you since you started at Wilmar. I think they know I ... I think they know you're important to me. Anyway, it doesn't matter to me what they think. Nothing can change the way I feel about you."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"Come on Scarlet. Be a sport. And if you can't do that, then do it for me."

"Fine, but don't tell anyone at work." I knew he wasn't going to let me off the hook, but I had to try to keep this from my sisters ... and the White Queen.

"Agreed," said Conan as he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

Questions began racing through my mind as the waiter arrived with dinner. _What if Conan really is in love with me_? _Is a future together possible_? _How could he ever forgive me for betraying him_?
Meeting the Wilmars

On Saturday morning, I got ready and put on a light-blue mermaid dress. When I saw Conan's car pull up, I grabbed my white clutch, said goodbye to Milky, and went downstairs.

Conan opened the rear door from inside the limo. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and designer jeans.

"You look nice," he said.

"Thanks."

It took about an hour to get to Staten Island. The car drove through the tree-lined streets and pulled up to a gated driveway.

The gate slid sideways and we inched toward the security booth. Two guards stepped in front of the car and motioned for us to get out.

"Guys, you know me. Is this really necessary?" asked Conan as he got out of the car.

"Sorry Mr. Casey. We can't take any chances," said the head guard.

"You're right, but hurry up."

"Yes sir."

The guards ran hand-held metal detectors over us, scanned the car for explosives, and checked my bag.

"All clear," said the head guard.

We got back in the car and slowly made our way along the driveway. There were sculptures dotted around the perfect green lawn and a decorative pavilion overlooked a duck pond with swans.

The car stopped in front of a sprawling modern mansion with a lot of shiny glass. It was practically surrounded by a small forest of towering trees.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilmar were waving at us from the front door. Mrs. Wilmar's sparkling diamond necklace stood out on top of her long purple dress with a faint floral pattern. Mr. Wilmar was wearing simple khaki pants and a white polo shirt.

Conan's face lit up when he saw his parents. He enthusiastically waved back at them.

My heart was pounding and I wanted to run away. _I shouldn't be here_ ... _not yet. My allegiance is still to the White Queen._

Conan got out of the car and offered me his hand, but I was frozen in my seat.

He leaned over and looked at me. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not ready for this," I said. "It's too soon."

"Well we're here now. Come on. My parents are nice."

"What if they don't like me?"

"It doesn't matter," he whispered. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Take my hand."

"Okay." I reluctantly took his hand and got out of the car.

He put his arm tightly around my waist as we walked to the steps.

"Scarlet, I'd like to introduce you to my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wilmar."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, holding out my hand.

"Call me Susanne," said Mrs. Wilmar with a warm smile. "It's lovely to meet you." She took my hand in both of hers and gently shook it.

A strange sensation radiated up my arm. It was somehow familiar, and visions of yellow sunflower fields whooshed through my mind. Mrs. Wilmar had long blond hair, just like my mother. The wrinkles on her face made me think she was in her mid-fifties, and her hazel eyes reminded me of mine. I looked closely at her face. _Could she be_? _No, don't be silly_. I shook off the feeling and smiled.

"I hear great things about you." Mr. Wilmar gave me a firm handshake. "You may call me Johnson."

Johnson Wilmar was known in the company as the Eagle, and he looked exactly like his pictures. His eagle-like eyes were set in a round face, and his gray and white hair was starting to thin a bit around his temples and forehead.

"Where's Clarissa?" asked Conan.

"She should be here soon," replied Mrs. Wilmar just as a white limo was coming up the driveway. "Oh, here they are."

A young woman popped out of the limo and wildly waved her arms in the air. She looked about twenty. She was wearing a white tank top and blue jeans, and her hair was tied back in a pony tail. With her brown oval eyes and reddish hair, she didn't look like her parents or Conan.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!" Clarissa skipped over to her parents and hugged them.

"That's my sister. I told you she's _playful_ ," Conan whispered in my ear.

"Conan! You're here." She threw her thin arms around her brother's neck. "And this is?"

"Clarissa, meet Scarlet, my girlfriend," said Conan.

"Scarlet, nice to meet you. My big brother finally brings a girl home. Nice," said Clarissa, pinching Conan's cheek.

Conan scowled and swiped her hand away from his face.

"Okay, lunch is ready." Mrs. Wilmar motioned for us to go inside.

We walked down a long hall. Clarissa chatted away to her mother and I followed closely behind Conan and his father.

As I walked into the dining room, I noticed a CCTV camera tucked up high in the far corner. There was a large vase full of red roses in the center of the long table, and Venetian blinds on the tall windows gave the room a classic look. The table was set with sterling silver cutlery, blue china, linen napkins, and crystal glasses. Mr. Wilmar sat at the head of the table. Mrs. Wilmar and Clarissa sat across from me and Conan.

A butler moved the flowers to a sideboard and placed butter and freshly baked bread on the table. He filled our water glasses before opening a bottle of white wine and pouring some into Mr. Wilmar's glass. _It would be easy enough for the White Queen to get an agent in here to poison them_. Mr. Wilmar swirled the wine around his glass, sniffed it, and took a small sip. He let it sit in his mouth before swallowing.

"This is a good wine," said Mr. Wilmar as he signaled for the butler to fill our glasses. "Some wines age better than others, and this one has aged fairly well."

"Are you ready for the show?" Mrs. Wilmar asked Clarissa.

"Not really. Some questions have been raised about the provenance of a few of the paintings, so that could be a real problem. And I can't decide where to hang everything."

"Well, you're the owner. These things come with the territory," said Mr. Wilmar.

"Yes dad, I know." Clarissa looked annoyed. "But I never thought it would be so stressful ... or so much hard work. I've been lugging ladders and paintings around like there's no tomorrow. I won't be able to afford full-time help unless the show sells out, so I have to do practically everything myself."

"Sweetie pie, work is called work for a reason," said Mr. Wilmar.

"What's for lunch?" Conan asked.

"Mushroom soup ... salmon and asparagus ... and your favorite for dessert ... chocolate lava cake," said Mrs. Wilmar.

"I can't wait. I've been looking forward to your cooking all week," Conan replied.

"Hey, what about my favorites? No pumpkin soup?" asked Clarissa.

"Sorry dear, next time. ... I promise." Mrs. Wilmar patted her daughter's hand.

_I wish I had a mother who cared for me and made me my favorite soup._ Images of my mother walking away through the bright yellow sunflower field flashed before my eyes. She floated toward the sun and disappeared in the blinding light.

Clarissa huffed and grabbed a piece of bread. She ripped it apart and poked it in the butter dish.

"Clarissa! Where are your manners? Use a knife. Scarlet dear, have a piece of bread," said Mr. Wilmar, holding up the basket.

"Thank you," I said. I dipped my butter knife in the soft butter and spread it on the warm bread. It was delicious.

Conan looked at me and slid his hand along my leg underneath the table. I pushed his hand away and kicked him which seemed to amuse him.

The butler returned and served the soup. I took a sip and it was out of this world.

"The soup is really delicious," I said. The mushrooms were perfectly blended with cream, fresh herbs, and a dash of black pepper. It was nothing like the canned mushroom soup I was used to.

"It's our mother's specialty. If you're nice, maybe she'll give you the recipe so you can make it for me whenever I want." Conan smiled.

I kicked him under the table again.

"I prefer pumpkin soup," whined Clarissa.

"Yes dear. We know," said Mrs. Wilmar.

"Dad, when will you be retiring?" asked Conan, taking a sip of wine.

"In a few years ... as long as I have the right person to take over." Mr. Wilmar took a big drink of wine and the butler refilled his glass. "Conan, do you think you'll be ready by then?"

"I don't know. But maybe you should look for someone with CEO experience."

I was surprised that Conan wasn't interested in taking over Wilmar. _The White Queen may be happy to know this_. I looked at the shiny fish knife beside my plate and resisted the urge to stoke the blade.

"I have been looking, but I'm not impressed with any of the yahoos the board wants me to consider." Mr. Wilmar held his wine glass up and peered through the golden liquid with his eagle eyes. "I don't like their track records, and I'm not confident that I could train any of them up even if I had ten years. Most of them are the idiot sons and nephews of board members. Anyway, we need more women higher up in the company, and you know I prefer to bring someone up through the ranks." Mr. Wilmar put down his glass and his face softened. "Scarlet, where do you come from?"

"I grew up in Los Angeles," I lied.

"I've always preferred the East Coast myself," said Mr. Wilmar. "I'm sure Conan's told you that he and his sister are adopted."

"I know he was adopted," I replied.

"Scarlet, what's your last name?" asked Mrs. Wilmar.

"Walters. Scarlet Walters."

"Her last name will be Casey before long," said Conan.

_Did he really just say that in front of his parents_? I pinched his leg.

"In that case," Mr. Wilmar laughed and raised his glass, "welcome to the family! Cheers!"

We raised our glasses to the toast. I felt my face flush as I took a large gulp of wine. It left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

Two different middle-aged butlers came into the room. One cleared the soup bowls and the other served the main course.

"So, Scarlet, you've been with Wilmar for almost six months now. How do you like it?" asked Mr. Wilmar.

"I still have a lot to learn about everything Wilmar does, but I really enjoy my job."

"Excellent. That's what I like to hear. HR gives you glowing performance reviews." Mr. Wilmar smiled. "Conan hasn't complained about you once. That means your direct boss is very happy with you. Who knows, maybe you could be my next CEO."

"You flatter me Mr. Wilmar," I said. "I'm just a secretary. I don't think I'd be able to run a huge corporation."

"No, not tomorrow, but in time you could," said Mr. Wilmar. "I didn't even finish high school and now I'm a CEO. I want control of the company to stay in the family, but my son isn't chomping at the bit to take over and my daughter is only interested in art. Bringing my future daughter-in-law up through the ranks sounds like a fine idea to me."

"Thank you." I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." _He'd have a heart attack if he knew the real reason I'm at Wilmar_. _I wish I weren't such a good liar_.

"You do that." Mr. Wilmar raised his glass at me and I did the same. "In the meantime, you just keep doing a great job and look after Conan. To good health and a prosperous future."

We all sipped from our glasses and smiled. Mrs. Wilmar's hand began to tremble as she drank her wine.

I didn't want to stare and I began eating my _mi-cuit_ , or half-cooked, salmon. It was perfectly done and the flaky flesh was delectable.

"Mom, how's your health?" Conan asked. He sounded concerned.

"I'm doing okay. ... I just have some ... lightheadedness and ... the occasional headache," she replied.

"Are you still on the pills?" asked Conan.

"No, not anymore." Mrs. Wilmar took a sip of water. "They're quite addictive and ... I'm trying to stay off them. ... I've been taking some ... natural supplements."

Mrs. Wilmar was noticeably short of breath. She hadn't spoken much at all and I realized that she'd been speaking in short sentences throughout lunch. I wondered if she had a heart condition or asthma.

"I'm worried about you," said Conan.

"There's no need to worry ... the doctor says I'm fine." She took a few deep breaths. "Johnson gave me a ... diamond and sapphire ... ring for our anniversary. ... Isn't it gorgeous?" She extended her arm across the table.

The ring was beautiful and it matched her diamond and sapphire earrings. The diamond must've been at least three carats. _How many years would I have to work as a secretary to pay for jewelry like that_?

"It is," said Conan, tilting his mother's hand from side to side to see how the gems caught the light. "Dad, where did you get it?"

"I'll give you the guy's card after lunch," said Mr. Wilmar. "He makes one of a kind pieces. Your mother's ring took three months."

The butlers cleared away the plates and brought in dessert. It was chocolate lava cake--à la mode if we wanted. Clarissa dug into her dessert. The cake and ice cream seemed to make her forgive the lack of pumpkin soup.

"The lava cake was scrumptious as always. Thanks Mom," said Conan, wiping chocolate from the corners of his mouth.

There were smudges of chocolate around the edges of my plate when I was done, but Conan's plate looked like it'd been polished clean. _I guess I'll have to learn how to make chocolate lava cake to keep him happy._

"If you'll excuse us, I want to show Scarlet the house," said Conan.

"Go," Mr. Wilmar said with a grin.

Mrs. Wilmar nodded approvingly and winked at us. Clarissa was too busy making triangles in her chocolate to notice our departure from the table.

"Excuse us," I said as I stood up, embarrassed.

"I'm going to take you to my room," Conan whispered as he squeezed my hand and led me out of the dining room.

"We're in your parents' house. Don't you even think about being naughty," I whispered back.

"No hanky-panky, I promise," he said, tickling my palm.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees and flooded through the wall of glass in the foyer. It was almost like being outside as we walked up the curved glass staircase to the second floor. Conan led me down a long corridor and opened the door at the end.

"This is it," he said. "I haven't been in here in ages."

The room had a king-sized bed, shelves filled with books and toys, and a desk with a computer and three dated screens. I imagined that the computer hadn't been turned on in years.

"When were you last here?" I asked.

"Christmas. I only visit for holidays and special occasions."

"What's Christmas like with your family?" There were no holiday or birthday celebrations at the Academy, and I didn't remember celebrating Christmas or any special occasions with my family.

"The house is decorated and there's always an enormous tree. My parents go overboard with everything ... presents, food, liquor. It's always very festive and they usually throw a few big parties. Clarissa loves getting gifts, but I think she likes giving them even more. Last year she gave me a painting that I know cost crazy money. I like it, but I'd never spend that much unless it was a Picasso."

"Hmm, I think I know the one you mean. It's in your living room, right?"

"That's the one."

I walked over to the desk and ran my finger across a screen. There wasn't so much as a speck of dust on it.

"Did you spend a lot of time on your computer as a kid?"

"Yeah. I was really into gaming ... before I got in with the wrong crowd. I sort of gave it up after that. I was too busy finding trouble." He laughed.

"You had a good life here. A comfortable, good life." I didn't play any computer games as a kid. I didn't even have a computer ... or time for fun. I was always cooking or cleaning for my stepfather. Once I got to the city everything I did was to survive for one more day. Things were easier at the Academy, but we spent most of our time studying and training.

"I was lucky that they took me from the orphanage. That's for sure," said Conan.

"Have you found anything out about my mother?"

"No. I'm sorry Scarlet. As you said, she may've changed her name, or she's no longer in the city."

I walked along the shelves and looked at Conan's childhood possessions--books, toy figurines, games. He'd had things I was deprived of.

"I know you had a rough time growing up. Does seeing all this make you sad?" he asked.

"No. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. I'll take you back to the city." Conan threw me over his shoulder and tickled me.

"Hey, put me down!" I laughed. He certainly knew how to cheer me up.

"Okay, but if you run I'll have to kidnap you," he said as he set me down.

"Deal." I stuck out my hand to shake on it.

"We'll just say goodbye to everyone and head back. I've had my fill of family life for today."

"Sounds good."
Butterflies

As soon as we got to Conan's apartment I put on a bathrobe and climbed in bed. He removed his shirt and snuggled up next to me, flesh to flesh.

"It wasn't that bad meeting my parents was it?" he asked.

"It was okay, but I'm not sure I was ready for that."

"Not ready for what?" Conan frowned.

"Meeting your family made everything more real or something. I just want to take things slowly, that's all." Mimi, Vanus, and the White Queen were my family, and I wasn't sure if I could choose Conan over them. I wanted to stay alive to find my mother. Betraying the White Queen wasn't a good idea.

"We can take it slowly." Conan reached into my bathrobe and began kneading my little girl. "Very slowly."

"Stop," I moaned softly. "We should take a nap first." I pushed his hand away.

"It doesn't want to take a nap first," he said as he moved my hand over his rigid need. "Unbutton my jeans and take it out."

I reluctantly sat up and unbuttoned Conan's jeans. I pulled everything off, leaving him naked. He yanked me down and rubbed himself against my back. He slipped my bathrobe off my shoulders and put his arms around me. I closed my eyes as he stroked me through my panties and we melted into each other.

I remembered a Chinese story that Mimi once told me. It was about two lovers who couldn't be together in their lifetime, and they turned into butterflies after they died. Visions began flowing through my mind. Pink cherry blossoms were showering down over an oriental landscape. A pair of rainbow butterflies rose from beneath the scattered petals--their transitionary old selves discarded and their metamorphoses complete--and they flew up into the sky. The pink cherry blossoms turned into sunflower fields and the butterflies danced through the blue sky. _Life is transitory ... and love is poetry in action._

Conan turned me around and hungrily sought out my mouth with his. Our tongues circled and entwined as we sucked the breath from each other. His stiff manhood jabbed into my stomach and I lightly touched the tip, teasing him as my fingers barely glided over his throbbing need.

"Ah, Scarlet," he groaned. "You make me so hard. I would be a fool not to marry you."

"Who's getting married?" I squeezed and tugged him hard.

"Ouch!" Conan's legs jerked. "That felt ... good ... but be gentle with me tonight."

I reached into the nightstand and grabbed a strawberry-flavored lube. It was my favorite.

"Don't use too much," said Conan.

"I won't." I dribbled a little bit over him.

I wrapped both my hands around his solid cock and smeared the lube all over--rubbing up and down and around and over the tip. Conan's eyes rolled back and he started to moan. He was my lollipop and I sucked and licked and nibbled the sweetness off him.

"Oh yes," said Conan as he propped himself up on his elbows. "I have to watch you take me in your mouth."

"Down!" I ordered as I shoved him back on the bed. "Close your eyes."

"Yes my Scarlet Queen."

"There's a good boy," I said as I lightly kissed his lips.

I got out of bed to grab his laptop and turn off the lights. We were shrouded in darkness except for the white glow of the computer screen. I put on a soothing erotic track and attacked my lollipop with fervor, filling my mouth with his stiffness. I licked and sucked and stoked him until his whimpers of pleasure filled the room.

"Take all of me," he moaned as he gently guided my head up and down. "Yes ... oh yes. That's it. I have to be inside you. Take it all."

We both began panting as I choked down his pulsating cock, sucking as hard as I could. My little girl was weeping for his member, but it felt divine in my mouth and I couldn't stop sucking and rubbing him.

"Wait ... you'll make me come." Conan groaned.

I sat up and let go of him. I was lightheaded from my feeding frenzy and it took me a moment to collect myself.

"My turn," said Conan. He reached for a condom and rolled it over his bulging red erection. "On your back and close your eyes."

I relaxed and let my muscles melt into the soft bed. Conan's fingers dabbled in my wetness before he spread my legs and lowered himself onto me. I gasped in delight as he shoved his hardness inside. He cupped his hands over my ears and began moving in and out very slowly, driving me crazy.

"Faster ... harder," I begged.

"As you wish my queen."

Conan began pounding me at full speed. I contracted all my muscles, clutching him with my little girl and digging my nails into his back as our bodies fell into a rhythmic ecstasy. He began growling and tensing up. I let him bring me to a climax before he gave a final thrust and a loud grunt. We were breathing heavily and dripping with sweat as we relaxed into each other. I was in heaven.

"We're so damn good together," he said, rolling over. "Why don't you move in?"

"I don't think you're ready for a live in girlfriend and her cat, and I won't abandon Milky." I desperately wanted to be with him, but I didn't know if I could leave Mimi, Vanus, and the White Queen.

"Pets are allowed in this building and I own the unit. Bring her with you."

"I don't think I'm ready for that sort of commitment ... yet."

"Fine." Conan frowned. "You and Milky can move in whenever you're ready. Will you at least stay over tonight?"

"Um." _Did I leave enough food out for Milky_? _Yep_. "Okay. I'm too exhausted from today to go anywhere." I looked at the clock. It was only seven forty-five.

"Good," said Conan. "We'll take that nap now and order dinner later."

I closed my eyes and snuggled into him. We transformed into butterflies fluttering over green fields. We went higher and higher, flying into the blue sky ... toward freedom.

* * *

Conan's driver dropped me off at home on Sunday afternoon. I fed Milky and had a shower before taking the train to Midtown.

I emerged from the subway and walked aimlessly through the busy streets of Manhattan. I was just another rat scurrying through the chaotic crowds of this capitalist metropolis. Like everyone else, I had to put on a façade to face the world ... to survive.

_We all wear masks, but do I even know who I am_? _Am I really nothing more than a cold-hearted villainess_? _Was I only born to victimize and terrorize the White Queen's enemies_? _Why do I do it_?

I thought about the freezing night the White Queen saved me from starvation. I was desperate and I fled straight into her arms. I accepted her as my savior without a second thought.

She became my champion and my mama. She gave me a confidence in myself that I'd never known. My stepfather constantly belittled me, but the White Queen lifted me up and told me I could be someone some day. I needed to believe her and I was thankful--supremely grateful--for the kindness and warmth she'd shown me.

Sometimes she met me after training sessions and took me to the mansion. I would lay in her lap as she caressed my hair and made me feel loved. She would say, "You're home now lovey. You never have to worry about anything again. You'll do our organization very proud one day. I'm your mama and you're my Red Hourglass." I would kiss her soft hands and say, "Yes Mama, one day I'll make you proud."

Words I hadn't heard in a long time began sounding in my ears. It was the Academy chant:

" _Rid the world of evils, we must._

_Uphold the legacies of the past, we do._

_To serve and worship, we vow._

_The children of the future, we are._ "

We chanted these words every Monday at the morning assembly, and any other time the White Queen gathered us in the round auditorium. The code gave us purpose and we strove to uphold it--to be worthy of the White Queen's love and protection.

I'd never questioned our code. It had served me well for years, but something was different now. I'd realized that the words were a deceptive lullaby of servitude that bound us to the White Queen, soothed us into a false sense of duty and sisterhood. In reality, we were the White Queen's private band of assassins, risking our lives for her gain. We didn't serve the greater good. We served her in whatever ways she saw fit. We weren't the children of the future. We were disposable pawns. If the White Queen decided that one of us was no longer useful, or had become a threat, she didn't think twice about sacrificing a pawn.

I didn't need the White Queen's lies and lullabies anymore. The anger in me--at my mother, my stepfather, Max--evaporated when I thought of Conan. He was all that mattered now. I loved him so much it hurt, but not as much as the thought of continuing my life as a solitary huntress. I didn't want to put Conan in danger, to bring the White Queen's wrath down on him, but I knew I couldn't go on without him.

When Conan smiled at me, touched me, kissed me, nothing else was real. He was joy itself, living happiness, and the world disappeared. _Is this what it means to see the face of God_? _Life is only complete when you have someone else to live for_. _Only love is real ... reality is unreal_. _What am I going to do_?

Someone jostled me so hard that I stumbled into a huge window. I stepped back and realized that I was in front of one of the expensive department stores on Fifth Avenue. The stylish mannequins were wearing the latest fashions. The empty smiles on their plastic faces seemed to be repeated in the sea of shoppers. _I'm drowning in a sea of superficial materialism. None of it's real ... none of it matters_. I wanted to rip the mannequins' plastic limbs out of their sockets.

A sense of desolation swept over me, and my reflection in the glass came into sharp focus. I felt like an empty shell bobbing in the waves. _I've only ever been what other people told me I am. Am I real or just a reflection_?

I remembered Dave and his unconquerable spirit. _I wish I could see him again_. _He would tell me to be strong, to create my own life ... my own identity_. I took a deep breath and got on the train. _I'll meditate when I get home_.
A Year in Wilmar

It'd been almost a year since I started working at Wilmar. My sisters were still gathering financial information for the White Queen to use in her _negotiations_ with the CEO of Zhong Yuan, but mostly we were biding our time until the Zhong Yuan board came to New York.

There was a bouquet of white lilies from Conan on my desk when I got to work. I smiled. He brought me a happiness I'd never known. When he held me in his arms, everything was peaceful and tranquil--the world was perfect. I felt as though his love was always around me, supporting me, even when he wasn't there. _If only he knew who I really am_ ... _if only he could save me from the clutches of the owl who'd plucked me from the subway station. Even if our love isn't an illusion, it's impossible_.

I sat down and turned on my computer. There was an email from HR. All employees were "required to undergo a compulsory health screening for our new health care provider." I was to report to the cafeteria at four thirty and I had to "be prepared to give blood and urine samples." _It's a good thing I don't do drugs_.

The phone rang.

"Conan Casey's office."

"It's Mimi."

"Hi Mimi. What's up?"

"Have you seen that email?"

"Yeah."

"Well this is the biggest load of bullshit. As if it's not bad enough that they're throwing people out of their homes and businesses and onto the streets, now they want our blood!"

"Maybe they just want to find out if we have any health issues."

"I don't want to get poked by needles!"

"I understand," I said, "but just bear with it ... it's part of the job."

"UGH! I'll see you later for lunch."

"Okay, see you later."

* * *

Conan was waiting for me when I got back from my health screening. He looked as suave as ever with his neatly combed hair and sleek suit. I was holding my arm where the nurse had stuck me with a needle.

"I see you've been for the health screening," said Conan.

"Yeah. A lot of people are really unhappy about it."

"I know. I wasn't too happy about it either, but our new health insurance company insisted. They're only looking for preexisting conditions and genetic indicators that point to possible issues down the line ... it's not for drug testing."

"That's almost worse," I said. "Is Wilmar going to fire people with preexisting conditions or bad genes?"

"Of course not. We're a big corporation, but we're not monsters. We'll make sure everyone gets the care they need. That's all. I promise."

"I hope so. I'll be very upset if people who really need health insurance are suddenly fired."

"Don't worry," Conan assured me. "That's not what this is about. Anyway, it's Friday, shall we go to dinner?"

"Yes, I'm hungry from blood loss," I teased, pinching his arm.

"Are you going to change?"

"Oh, is it _that_ kind of dinner?"

"It is your birthday dinner. I think it'd be nice if you wore something special ... like that pink gown with the crystals on top."

"My birthday isn't until next week." It was a good thing he reminded me. I'd almost forgot about my fake Halloween birthday.

"It takes three months to get a table at the restaurant we're going to. I'd left it a little late to make the reservation and tonight was the closest I could get."

"Fine. I'll meet you at the elevators." I took my garment bag off the coat rack and went to the bathroom. I put on a little make up and fixed my hair before dropping the garment bag back at my desk and grabbing my flowers.

"You look gorgeous," said Conan as he kissed me on the cheek.

Everyone in the company knew we were an item by then, but it still made me sort of uncomfortable. _I hope Mimi hasn't told the White Queen that I have feelings for him._

Conan's limo was waiting for us in the parking lot in the basement. The chauffeur opened the rear door and said, "Good evening."

"Wonderful evening my man, wonderful evening. We're going to L'Etoile," said Conan.

"How did you know my birthday's coming up?" I asked as I slid across the seat.

"What?" Conan looked at me like I had two heads. "You work for me. I have access to that information. I thought you'd be pleased that I was interested enough to find out."

"Why didn't you just ask me? It's sort of creepy knowing that you find things out about me behind my back." _I hope he doesn't go digging too much_.

"Scarlet, I want to know everything I can about you." He took my hand and kissed each finger. "Every little thing."

"Conan, believe me, you do not want to know _every little thing_ about me."

"Of course I do, even it takes me a lifetime to find out."

"You're talking nonsense now. Stop."

"What's wrong with you tonight?"

"Feelings come and go ... and anything could happen tomorrow."

"Now you're the one talking nonsense. You make me want to be a better man." He squeezed my hand. "No one's ever made me feel the way you do. You know I love you."

"How do you want to be better?"

"I want to be a better person ... treat people better," said Conan as he looked out the window. "I've also been thinking about how my father wants to keep control of the company in the family. I'm seriously thinking about being the CEO after he retires."

_Oh hell, if he's in line to be the next CEO, the White Queen will target him for sure_. _If I stay with her, maybe I can get her attention off Wilmar, convince her to go after another competitor._

"You should stop loving me. I'm no good for you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I had a very, very bad childhood. I don't come from a good family. I do things that I'm not proud of." I wished I could tell him the truth about everything, but all I could do was dance around my ugly reality.

"Are you talking about your obsession with knives? You play with them all the time."

"You noticed?" _Damn, I let that slip_. "I wouldn't call it an obsession, but I'm afraid that I could hurt someone one day ... and I don't want to hurt you."

"Scarlet, you love me. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"I do love you, but ... what if I lose control one day and accidentally hurt you? Or what if I fall out of love, or you do something that really angers me and I want to stab you in revenge?"

"Scarlet." He held my chin and stared into my eyes. "You're everything to me. If I ever do something that makes you want to stab me, then I'll probably deserve it." He pulled my chin toward him and kissed me. "And then I'll stab you back."

I instinctively slapped his face. He touched his cheek and looked to see if the driver was watching in the rearview mirror. I was relieved that the slap didn't leave a mark.

"I was kidding. I'd never hurt you." He leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Please save that stuff for the bedroom."

"Conan ..." I pulled back from him. "Would you still love me if I turned into a monster?"

"If that ever happens, I guess we'll find out." He chuckled and shook his head. "A monster, really? You have a strange imagination."

"Not really. I could turn into a monster at any moment and destroy everything in my path."

"Very funny. I don't see any signs of a monster here. You have an overactive imagination and you're being silly."

"No, I'm not," I said. "It may sound silly to you, but I'm serious."

The chauffeur parked and opened the rear door. I took Conan's hand as I got out of the car. I desperately wanted to tell him the truth about me, but I wasn't even sure I knew the truth. _Am I a half-truth or a half-lie_? _Am I real or unreal_? _Will he still love me if I tell him_?

The packed restaurant had a lavish interior with enormous chandeliers that must've held hundreds of light bulbs. Between the chandeliers and the candles on the tables, the place was bathed in a golden glow. Murals of wild animals were painted on the walls, and a jazz band was playing soft music in front of beautiful stained glass windows that reached to the high ceiling.

The maître d' took us to a window table that overlooked the East River. Brooklyn was twinkling across the water, and the headlights of all the cars crossing the bridges into Manhattan reminded me of fireflies.

" _Bonsoir_ ," said a waiter dressed in a tuxedo. "M _onsieur_ , are you ready to order?"

"Scarlet, do you mind having the set menu?" Conan asked as he clasped his long, slender fingers.

"Not at all."

"We'll take the four-course meal with oysters, lobster bisque, black cod, and dark chocolate gateau ... and a bottle of your finest Cabernet Sauvignon."

" _Merci_ ," said the waiter as he took our menus. "I'll be right back with the wine."

"When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?" asked Conan.

"I don't think I've ever celebrated my birthday." The only birthday I even remembered was the night I watched the seconds tick toward midnight on my stolen watch. My birthday meal was the half-eaten cheeseburger I'd taken from a McDonald's tray. It was the same night the White Queen rescued me. "I like to think that my mother celebrated my birthday with me before she left but I just don't remember because I've blocked the memories."

The waiter arrived with the wine and Conan told him just to pour it.

"That's sad. But I'm very happy that we're out tonight for your birthday ... since it's your first real birthday celebration. Here's to a gorgeous young woman on her birthday." Conan raised his glass and clinked it to mine.

"Thank you for celebrating my birthday with me." I took a sip of wine and looked at the elegant Cartier Tank watch on my wrist that Conan gave me a few months ago. "I appreciate it."

"I want you to celebrate more than your birthday." Conan reached across the table and curled his fingers tightly around mine. "I want you to celebrate living, to experience the joy of being alive."

"I don't think I know what living is. I feel like life just takes me ... and I flow with it."

"Feeling joy and happiness is one way of knowing you're alive." He slid his fingers over my wrist. "Ms. Walters, I am happy to report that you have a pulse. I can confirm that you are in fact alive."

"My heart may be beating," I said, pulling away my hand, "but I feel dead inside."

"Scarlet, you're really not yourself tonight. What's going on?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry. I'm just feeling a little under the weather." I sighed.

The waiter arrived with our first course. A dozen oysters glistened on a bed of ice. They looked delicious, but somehow dull.

"Conan, I'm not normal. I don't remember my birthdays and I don't know why I'm here. I don't think I really have much to live for."

"Scarlet," he said, taking my hand again. "You're alive, you're here, and you may as well be happy."

"I don't know what happiness means. How can I be happy?"

"I can't tell you what is happiness, but I can do my best to make you happy." He lifted his wine glass by the stem. "This is one way of experiencing happiness. Cheers."

I reluctantly lifted my glass and drank to the toast. I hoped that the red wine would ease my pain and confusion, but it didn't. Conan did make me happy, but our days were numbered. Being with him was like tasting a forbidden fruit. After the first bite, I was never the same again. A part of me wanted to throw myself into the experience of being in love with him, but another part of me wanted to hide from it, to keep myself safe from what would follow. I knew that once it was over I'd be left with the painful memories of what could've been ... if only I wasn't an agent.

"We better eat these." He winked and slurped down an oyster.

"You're right." I didn't want to ruin the whole night. I picked up an oyster and swallowed it down. The familiar aftertaste seemed to wake me up. "Ah, maybe being alive is like eating a raw, tangy oyster." _I guess eating makes me feel alive_.

"You better eat more then. I don't want you to slip back into whatever dark place the oyster dragged you out of," said Conan, sliding the plate toward me.

As soon as we finished the oysters, the waiter delivered the next course. The thick, savory lobster bisque was served in small handmade bowls on pieces of black granite.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Conan asked.

"The future?"

"Yes. Our future ... the two of us living together, spending our lives together."

"It's hard for me to imagine that"

"Why?" He frowned and wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

"I'm enjoying being with you, but I can't think about the future." I knew the White Queen would dispose of us if we tried to be together. "I can only see us now. Let's enjoy this moment, shall we?"

"Yes, we're celebrating your birthday and that's all we have to think about tonight." Conan took a drink of wine and his frown disappeared. "I don't want to pressure you, but I do want our relationship to evolve."

I picked up my wine glass and took a large sip. Then I plunged my soup spoon into my bisque and finished it without saying a word.

The house lights dimmed and the candles on the tables seemed to burn brighter. The waiter arrived with our main course as soft jazz gently played in the background.

The fresh cod was perfectly poached and delicious. The skin easily peeled away from the smooth, tender flesh under the careful guidance of my fish knife. _If I'd eaten like this when I was homeless, maybe I wouldn't have gone with the White Queen._

Conan lightened up as he ate and drank more wine. He joked about office politics and his new hires' mistakes. It was fun bantering with him, and his sharpness and wit lifted my spirits.

The dark chocolate gateau was absolutely delicious, and mine had a single birthday candle. As I blew it out, I wished for something that could never be ... a future with Conan.

* * *

As soon as we got to Conan's apartment, I slipped out of my clothes and took a long shower.

He was working on his laptop when I came out of the bathroom in a red silk nightie. I stood behind him and slowly massaged his shoulders.

"You should come to bed," I whispered in his ear.

"I will in a moment." He turned around. "Wow, that's some nightgown."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it. It accentuates your curves." One of his hands strayed from the keyboard to my waist and slid over my bottom.

"It's time for bed."

"I'll be there in a minute," he said, turning back around. "I just have a few things to finish up."

"It's my birthday and I can't wait that long." I turned his chair around. "Let me help you get comfortable." I undid his silver tie and slid it out from under the collar of his dark-gray shirt, flinging it to the floor.

"Oh my." Conan stood up.

"Buttons next." I put my hands behind my back and unbuttoned his shirt with my teeth as I stared up into his eyes. When I was done, I kissed him on the lips and gently eased his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.

"Oh boy," he muttered as his erection pressed against my stomach.

Conan's tongue invaded my mouth. He kissed me deeply as he pushed me into the bedroom.

"I need to unzip my pants," he said, pulling away. "They're getting too tight."

"I was just about to do that for you." I laughed as I unbuttoned his pants and carefully unzipped them halfway. "Better?"

"Much better."

"Kiss me."

Our tongues twisted and circled each other as hot rushes ran through my spine. I unzipped Conan's pants the rest of the way. They dropped to the floor and he clumsily stepped out of them. He groped between my legs as I played with the growing erection trapped in his briefs.

"I think I'm addicted to you," he said as he kissed me harder and harder, thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth.

I stepped back and looked in his eyes. "You sure are," I said before sucking and nibbling his lips.

Conan moaned softly and threw me on the bed. His fingers caressed my curves, massaging and tickling every sensitive spot he could reach.

"You're making me so wet." I moaned.

"Good. I need to be inside you my Scarlet Queen."

"Not just yet." I rolled over and grabbed the strawberry lube from the nightstand. "I want to play with your hard cock."

"Uh oh."

I pulled his briefs off and threw them on the floor. His organ was fully erect and in desperate need of relief. I squirted a little bit of lube on him and began rubbing it around, alternating between the gentlest touch and a hard squeeze as my hand went up and down and over the tip.

"You are a ... very bad ... girl," he said, panting.

"Not as bad as you are." I lowered my mouth over his cock and sucked it a little as I teased the tip with my tongue. "I want you to watch me," I said as I put a pillow behind his head. I sucked his cock hard, moving my head up and down as I squeezed his balls.

"Ah." Conan groaned and his legs began to shake.

He was on the verge of coming and I couldn't let that happen yet. I sat up and started playing with his nipples.

"Scarlet, you're driving me crazy."

"That's the idea." I bent forward and licked his lips, giving his cock one last squeeze. "Your turn." I laid back on the warm bed and spread my long brown hair over the soft sheets.

"You're going to get it," he said as he spread my legs. His fingers got lost in my wetness, sending tingles of ecstasy through my nerves.

"Stop ... wait ... don't make me come ... please."

"What?" He circled his fingers around my little girl and shoved them inside.

My pleas tuned into moans as I arched my back. "Condom ... get a condom." I had to surround his stiffness.

"Right." Conan opened the nightstand and retrieved a packet. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled the condom over his throbbing organ.

He took me hard and fast as our bodies burned with an intense need that grew stronger with every thrust. We merged into one, clawing and biting as we each tried to consume the other. I wanted to melt into his intoxicating scent. I dug my nails into his back and clamped my teeth onto his shoulder, riding his cock as if my life depended on it until I quivered with pure, divine pleasure. Conan gave a sharp grunt and buckled, collapsing on top of me. We were panting as he rolled off me and his eyes disappeared behind his eyelids.

"Conan." I turned toward him and snuggled against his arm. "I want to tell you something."

"What do want to tell me?" He turned over to face me and played with a strand of my hair.

"I ... want to tell you ..." I hesitated, not knowing if I should break the spell and ruin the moment ... ruin everything. _Will he stop loving me if I tell him the truth_? I clutched my fists to my eyes in confusion. _STOP_! _You can't afford to lose his love_!

"Sweetheart, you can tell me anything. What is it?" Conan said as he took my hands away from my eyes and kissed my cheek.

"I ... I ... I love you ... so much," I spluttered.

He held me close and stroked my hair. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, wishing that every single inch of our flesh could touch. I wanted to feel his sensations, think his thoughts, breathe his breath. I was consumed by this beautiful man who would soon disappear from my life like a phantom. This man who taught me how to dance with him, how to kiss his beautiful lips, how to love ... this heavenly creature might as well have been a figment of my imagination. _This isn't real_. _We can never be together_. _How will I live without him_?

Conan drifted off to sleep, his head cradled in a pillow that looked like a puffy cloud. As I watched him sleep, I sighed with a mixture of pain and regret. _I'll join him in another world_ ... _maybe in heaven if God will allow a serial killer up there_. I closed my eyes and prayed that our beautiful moments would last forever.
The Surprise

It was early morning, but the sun was barely visible in the distance through the haze. As I walked the narrow streets on my way to the subway, autumn leaves fell to the sidewalk, covering the city in dead hopes. I thought about my weekend with Conan. _We were together just yesterday, and now I'm alone again_.

I remembered lying hand in hand on the autumn leaves with Anna. She told me that she'd always be there for me, that we'd be best friends forever. Then she was gone.

Images of my mother walking away from me began racing through my mind. Her face was a blur as autumn leaves swirled around her. She collapsed in the field and I ran toward her until the ghostly hands of my stepfather pulled me back. I was overcome by the feeling that my mother was still alive ... and looking for me too.

I bent over and touched my heel before I went down the subway stairs. The blade safely tucked inside reassured me.

* * *

I was delighted to see a dozen red roses on my desk. I picked up the vase and smelled the flowers.

"Scarlet," Conan said from behind me. "I hope you like roses."

"I like them very much." I blushed. "Thank you."

"I have something for you." He took a white envelope from his inside pocket and placed it on my desk.

"What's this?" My stomach dropped. The envelope reminded me of instructions from the White Queen.

"Your birthday present. Today is the actual day, after all."

"Yes, it is." I opened the envelope and pulled out a picture. "Niagara Falls? It looks dreamy."

"I'm glad you think so." Conan smiled. "We're leaving Thursday morning."

"But ..." I said.

"No buts. It's your birthday present and you deserve a break."

"But ... why Canada?" _Shit. Will my passport and ID work, or will I be caught_? _I can't tell the White Queen I'm leaving the country with Conan, although I'm sure she'll find out somehow_.

"Niagara Falls is beautiful ... and romantic," said Conan. "It'll be just the two of us with no interruptions and no distractions."

"Can I let you know in a few days?"

"The reservations are made and I'm not taking no for an answer."

"It does sound nice." I looked down at the photo and touched the edges. "But I can't say yes just yet. I think I have plans with my friend Mimi on Saturday night. She wants to take me out for my birthday."

"You can cancel." Conan kissed my forehead. "I'm sure she'll understand. Tell her it's a work thing. She won't be able to argue with that."

"I'll try." I did like the idea of leaving this dreadful place where I was forced to live a double life.

"Good." Conan grinned and clapped his hands. "I'm off to meet the board. We're meeting the Zhong Yuan executives next Monday afternoon and we have a lot of negotiating points to finalize."

I picked up the envelope and slipped the picture inside. I was torn. I would trade anything to work a normal job, have a boyfriend ... to live like a regular human being. The thought of going back to the White Queen--risking my life, killing her enemies, soiling my soul--was terrifying.

I didn't want to end up back on the streets, but I couldn't go on serving two masters. _I'll have to make a decision_.

* * *

"Roses! I don't have to ask who these are from," said Mimi in her high-pitched voice as she bent over and sniffed the flowers. "Smells like the countryside. What's the occasion?"

"It's my _birthday_."

"Oh yeah! Happy birthday!" Mimi winked at me. "In that case, lunch is on me. Let's go."

"Just a sec," I said. I slipped the white envelope into a drawer and grabbed my bag from under the desk. "Ready."

We took the elevator down to the lobby and walked over to Café Ristretto.

"Scar, grab that table." Mimi pointed to table in the corner of the patio. "I'll go inside and get lunch. What do you want?"

"Coffee and a bagel with cream cheese."

"Is that it? Don't you want a treat for your birthday? A piece of cake? A muffin? Something sweet?"

"No. I'm not in the mood for anything sweet."

"Okay. I'll be right back."

I took out my phone and looked at the calendar. _Everything will be different this time next week_. _What am I going to do_?

"How are things with Conan?" Mimi asked as she sat down with our lunch. "Do you still have that situation under control?"

"I think so. I'm just working a job, like you said." I took a bite of my bagel. "I haven't spent much time with him recently. He's been really busy getting ready for the Zhong Yuan meeting next week."

"Miller too," said Mimi, biting into the sandwich that was almost as big as her face. "I'm so over this assignment. I can't wait to get out of Wilmar ... they're such bloodsuckers!"

"Yeah, it won't be long now." My appetite disappeared and I picked at the edges of my bagel. "Do you think we'll be able to stop the merger?"

"Of course we will. I can't wait to get on to the next mission. I hope it'll be more fun."

"Have you ever thought about getting a normal job?"

"What can we do besides work for the White Queen?" Mimi took another bite of her sandwich. "Our identities aren't real, neither are our qualifications. We're only trained for undercover work."

"Yeah, but we are educated, and we have real secretary experience now from the _bloodsuckers_ ," I said. "I guess I was just thinking about what we would do if something ever happened to the White Queen ... and we had to get real jobs. But you're right. We're agents and that's that."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure Vanus is going to take over someday anyway. At least I hope she would. I like living a double life, it's fun playing with people. I wouldn't trade it for a normal, boring life. I can't imagine working a nine-to-five job in an office just to pay a mortgage for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, I guess that's out of the question." I sipped my coffee. "But at least we'd have our freedom."

"Scar, you worry too much. The White Queen will never abandon us. She's not like our parents. My parents left me in a brothel when I was sixteen. I was put into this tiny pink room and sold by the hour. I only escaped because I begged one of the johns to sneak me out when he was done. I'd been wandering the streets for days ... in a skimpy dress ... when the White Queen found me. She saved me ... and you too. She made us who we are."

"Mimi, I never knew. I'm sorry." _What else don't I know about her_?

"Thanks, but I'm over it now. It took me a long time to accept that my parents sold me into prostitution. They never valued me as their child. The point is that if you find your mother you may not like what you find. I think you'd be better off letting it go. She's probably not even in New York ... and she could be dead."

"I know, but I still want to know what happened to her. I'm prepared to accept reality ... whether she's alive or dead." I looked at the half-eaten bagel on my plate. _Meals will be hard to come by if I end up homeless again_. I finished the bagel and drank the rest of my coffee.

"Okay, it's up to you, but dwelling on the past is no use. Let's go back to the office," said Mimi, shoving the rest of her sandwich in her tiny mouth.

* * *

I took a cab home with my vase of roses. I ran upstairs and dug through my files, looking for the passport.

I found the envelope Vanus gave me at the start of the mission and dumped everything out onto the floor. I kneeled down and scattered the papers until I found the passport. I opened it to the page with my picture. _If only I really were this young woman called Scarlet Walters_. I examined the passport. It seemed real. _I guess I'll chance using it to go to Canada_.

The White Queen gave me my new identity, and her name was also on my bank account. She could take away my new life as easily as she'd given it. _If I go to the police they'll just send me back to her_. I looked at the roses. _I want to run away with him, but there's no escaping her_. _What am I going to do_?
Long Weekend

Conan told me to be ready by seven on Thursday morning. I set the alarm for six, but I woke up at five. I took a shower, got dressed, and ate breakfast.

My bag was already packed. I tidied the apartment and double-checked everything. _Have I packed everything I need_? _Check_. _Did I put out enough food and water for Milky_? _Check_. _Is the stove off_? _Check_. _Are the windows locked_? _Check_. _Do I have my ID_? _Check_. _Do I have my passport_? _Check_. _Will it work_? _God knows_.

I began pacing the floor and Milky followed me. I picked her up and gave her a kiss. "I'll miss you my sweet little thing. I won't be gone too long. Don't hate me," I said as I put her down in her favorite spot on the sofa.

_If the White Queen finds out that I've left the country, who knows what she'll do to me._ I opened the kitchen window just enough for Milky to escape in case I didn't make it back.

Conan pulled up outside at eight on the dot. I grabbed my suitcase, locked the door, and ran downstairs. Autumn leaves caught in little eddies swirled around me as I stepped outside.

Conan was wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt and black jeans. He looked more handsome than ever.

"Hello darling," he said, opening the door and taking my bag. "I'll just put this in the trunk."

"Thanks."

"I hope you're ready for the long ride," said Conan as he sat into the driver's seat.

"How long will it take?" I asked as I buckled my seat belt.

"About seven hours. Don't worry, we'll stop for lunch."

* * *

As we drove over the Rainbow Bridge into Canada, I pushed the button to lower the window. Feeling the power of this natural wonder--the roar of the water cascading down, the wind--made me feel free. I took a deep breath and it was as though the falls washed away all my restraints.

I handed Conan my documents before we got to the border. I braced myself for trouble as the officer looked in the car and checked everything, but it was pretty fast and easy. _I guess turning up at the Canadian border in a BMW has its advantages_.

I looked at Conan. He was beaming and I leaned over and hugged him. I wished we could stay in Canada forever.

We turned into a tree-lined driveway and drove a quarter mile. The car stopped in front of a charming old cottage that had been converted into a boutique hotel. It was called A Night to Remember.

"We'll just check in and drop off our bags, then we have a few wineries to visit," said Conan as he got out.

The cottage had an old-world charm and an eclectic interior. The decor was mostly Balinese, including a few stuffed parrots, but there was a stunning antique red kimono hanging on the wall going up the beautiful staircase.

The porter took our bags to the room and we spent the rest of the day touring wineries. We had dinner at a seafood restaurant before going back to the cottage.

* * *

Our room was a perfect romantic hideaway with thick Persian rugs, a fireplace, two armchairs, and a four-poster bed. There was even a huge Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom.

I heard a muffled ringing from inside my small suitcase.

"Conan, I'm just going to change." I grabbed my suitcase and went into the bathroom.

"Take your time."

"Thanks," I said as I closed the door.

"Hello."

"What are you doing in Canada?!" Vanus shrieked. "You should've told us before you left! Why haven't you answered your phone all day?!"

"I'm sorry Vanus. I packed my phone in my suitcase and forgot about it," I lied. "I didn't think I had to tell you. Conan asked me to come here for the weekend and it would've been fishy if I'd said no. The merger's so close and I didn't want him to suspect anything. We'll be back in New York Sunday night. How do you know where I am?"

"What?! I gave you that phone! I always know where you are ... or at least where your phone is!"

"It won't happen again."

"It better not! Make sure you tell us before you go on any more trips! We didn't know if you'd been kidnapped or run away!" Vanus hung up.

I knew the White Queen must've been furious. Vanus wouldn't have screamed at me like that otherwise. A beautiful future with Conan was on the other side of the bathroom door, but I feared that I'd never get away from my past.

I washed my face and changed into a pink baby doll nightie. I went back into the room and curled up on the bed next to Conan.

"You look lovely as always," he said.

"Thanks. It's nice being in the country. I'm glad we're here."

"Me too. Things are going to be hectic when we get back."

* * *

I awoke to the sound of birds chirping and slowly opened my eyes. The morning light was glimmering off Conan's bare skin.

I wriggled out from under the covers and got my passport. I turned to the page with my photo and studied the _facts_ of my current identity. I didn't want to go back to the States. I wanted to rip up the passport and be free of the mask I had to put on each day. I wanted to be myself with Conan.

I finally understood why Raven chose to risk her life to be with her lover. She was such a ravishing beauty that she was hated by a lot of agents. I'd always thought that she wanted to leave because she felt ostracized, but now I understood that she was courageous--she was running to her love, not away from the petty jealousy that made her life so hard sometimes.

It occurred to me that Raven could've cut off her own tattoo and given it to Misty to bring to the White Queen. Maybe the whole scene in the cafeteria was a ruse. Maybe Raven was still alive. I traced the hourglass tattoo on my back. _Will I be able to trade my tattoo for my freedom_? There were so many questions without answers.

Conan stirred in bed. I put my passport back in my bag and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash up.

Conan was sitting on the edge of the bed, the blankets barely covering him. He looked like a Roman god who'd stepped out of a painting.

"Scarlet, come sit beside me."

I sat down and reached out to touch his chest. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world sitting next to this living god.

"I have a surprise for you," said Conan.

"What is it?"

"Here." He took a seashell box out from under the blankets and opened it in the sunlight. There was a heart-shaped red ruby ring inside.

"Will you marry me?"

I covered my mouth in shock as I stared at the sparkling ring. _Will I risk it all for Conan's love_?

"Yes ... yes ... yes ..."

"Scarlet, this ring symbolizes my love for you." He lifted my dainty left hand and kissed it before putting the ring on my finger. "When you look at it, I want you to know that I'm here for you."

In that moment, I was pure living joy, bliss. I felt like anything was possible as long as we were together. Conan claimed me as his own. I would be the angel at the side of this sublime creature. _This must be divine love_ ... _divine happiness_ ... _transcendence._

"Do you like it?" He smiled and squeezed my hand.

"I love it!" I held my hand out to admire the gorgeous red ruby.

"I saw it months ago. I kept going back to look at it."

"How long have you had it?"

"A few months. I took it everywhere, waiting for the perfect moment."

"Oh Conan." I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him all over his face. "You've made me the happiest woman in the world!"

Our bodies entwined in the warm glow of the morning sun, hungering for each other. His tongue pushed between my lips and into my mouth. He twirled it round and round like a cyclone as I breathed his breath. He held me to his chest with his strong arms and squeezed my legs with his muscular thighs. I felt his heart beating against me as his burning erection pressed into my stomach. He slipped his hardness inside, and we made gentle love staring into each other's eyes.

"I'd love to stay here all day," said Conan, "but I'm famished."

"Me too."

We took a shower and went downstairs for breakfast. The dining room was lovely and colorful. The tables were set with china and golden cutlery with bone handles. We had organic scrambled eggs and sausage, and we finished the meal off with fresh coffee.

"I'm so happy you said yes." Conan smiled.

"I'm so happy you asked." I looked at my ring. No one had ever given me anything so beautiful ... or made me feel like Conan did.

"Cream?" he asked as he lifted the silver creamer.

"Thank you." I moved my cup in his direction. The cream swirled in my coffee until the two liquids merged into each other, becoming golden brown. _I understand now. Conan brings new colors, new wonders, into my life. He shines the light of love where only darkness has lived for so long_. I reached under the table and took his hand.

We explored the cottage grounds after breakfast, walking hand in hand in reverie as we enjoyed nature and each other. I'd never felt so relaxed, so happy. _Can this be real_?

* * *

It seemed like evening descended in a few short minutes, but we'd been walking around for hours. We ate a quick dinner before returning to our room.

"Have you ever thought of running away?" I asked as I flopped on the bed.

"From what?"

"The rat race. The clockwork routine of a workaday life."

"No," Conan replied matter-of-factly in a deep voice. "Without work, what would we do?"

"I don't know. Live in a cottage and spend the rest of our lives enjoying days like today."

"I think I'd run out of things to do if I lived in the country."

"Okay, have you ever thought about living in a different city?"

"Not really, but I might consider relocating to one of our other offices. Although, we are at HQ, and if I become CEO I'll have to live in New York. What's gotten into you?" Conan nudged me playfully. "Is the Big Apple not good enough for you anymore?"

"I enjoy the city, but I just think it could be nice to live somewhere else ... another country even." The White Queen had many international connections, but I didn't think even she could bribe all the world's police forces. I just wanted to run to somewhere safe, where she couldn't reach me. _There must be someplace where the law favors justice_.

"Perhaps, but now it's time to relax," said Conan as he pushed me back on the bed.

"I don't know," I teased him, pretending to sit up.

"Oh no you don't. Just close your eyes and relax," he whispered in my ear. He rubbed me between the legs, moving his fingers in ways that corrupted me.

"Ah." I moaned in pleasure.

"There you go." He slipped his fingers in my panties. "Let all the tension in your body go."

"Okay," I purred.

"Now, just focus on my fingers," he said as he worked harder at the tip. "Feel them pressing into you, bringing you pleasure."

"Oh yes ... yes," I whimpered. "I want you inside me, please."

"Not tonight sweetheart," he said as he kissed me.

"I'm going to make you come with my fingers." He gently slid his fingers into the vortex of my wetness.

"Ah." Blood was pulsating through my little girl as she throbbed in heat, clenching at his long fingers as I arched my back and grabbed the sheets.

"There, there ... go easy." He pushed his fingers deeper and harder into me.

He was going in and out, making me dance to his heavenly rhythm. I moaned uncontrollably as I climaxed with his strong fingers inside me before withering into a sweaty heap on the bed.

"Good girl." He removed his fingers from my wetness and held me around the waist.

I was exhausted and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * *

The romantic dining room was full of couples. The hostess took us to a table and suggested the mushroom and goat cheese crêpes for breakfast. The sweet melon served on the side was perfect.

"Let's go back to the room when you're done with your coffee," said Conan.

We went to our room and fell on the bed. I loved the tightness of his solid arms around my hips and his skin next to my skin. The feeling of us wrapped in a blanket, blending together, was the sweetest feeling in the world. I felt like we were floating on a soft cloud. I drifted with him up into the sky, looking over the mad world.

A single tear slipped down my cheek. I took a deep breath to stop the rest from pouring out. _I know this is just a dream_. _Maybe we were lovers in a past life_ ... _maybe we can be lovers again in another life_. My feelings for Conan were so strong that it was hard to breathe. I thought about being suffocated by my stepfather as he pressed his thumbs into my neck and squeezed my windpipe.

I'd lost myself completely in my latest false identity--the persona I needed to be to get another job done for the White Queen. I was no longer Mary, or even Janet. Conan fell in love with an illusion ... and I fell in love with him. I'd lost control. He held all the cards now. I was the loser in this game of love. I was in his bed, in his room. I was trapped in the gray wolf's territory.

Tears slid across my skin onto the pillow. My heart was burning for this man I could never truly have, singeing me in despair. I couldn't expect him to understand or forgive me. The pain of knowing that I wouldn't keep his love once he knew the truth was an agony I'd never imagined.

I was floating in a magical reality that was about to come crashing down. I wanted to spend forever enveloped in Conan's arms, sleeping on clouds in our ivory palace. This was heaven on Earth. _If only there were a heaven I could believe in_.

* * *

We woke up from our nap and I realized it was our last night in Canada. _This could be our last night together_ ... _ever_.

"Conan," I said with my back to him. "If you only had one last night with me, and knew that you would never see me again, what would you do?"

"My dear Scarlet Queen." He breathed in heavily. "I'd treasure what we have and make sure that our last night together would be the night of a lifetime."

"Oh Conan," I whispered.

"Scarlet, you're my love ... my one and only true love. I feel I've found the one person who truly complements me. You give me a sense of completeness. You blow my mind and I can barely comprehend my own emotions." Conan put his arm over me and held my hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "I just want to enjoy this moment."

Tears of regret were streaming from my eyes. If things were different, I knew his love would make all my worries disappear. When I was in his embrace we were transported to a world far from this ugly reality. He inhabited my fantasies and my dreams--my past, my present, and my future. He was always there with outstretched arms, reaching into my heart and soul, urging me to go toward him, to trust him. Our love was immeasurable. When I was with Conan, nothing else mattered. I transcended this world of pain. And yet, I knew our love couldn't last. The White Queen controlled my destiny, the future didn't belong to us. _I love Conan so much, but how can I tell him the truth_?

I dissolved into him, disappearing through the looking glass like an apparition. I tried to feel his hand but I was immaterial, no longer of my body. I tried to scream but no sound came out. The White Queen sent a vixen to seduce and beguile Conan. He was in love with an illusion, a fantasy--something unreal--not me.

I wanted to tell him the truth, but I hesitated. _How could he love a bad person who deceived and trapped him_? _Nothing I do will change the future. It's in the hands of fate_.
Trust Me

I opened my eyes on Sunday morning and looked at the giant oak tree outside the window. Conan was sitting in an armchair reading the newspaper.

I went into the bathroom and squeezed my fists as hard as I could. My fingernails digging into my palms reminded me that I was alive. I looked in the mirror and saw the Red Hourglass staring back at me.

_I have to tell him before we go back to Manhattan_. I threw the bathroom door open and it banged into the wall.

"And good morning to you too," said Conan as he looked up from his paper.

The burden of my secret was like lead weights around my ankles. Each step I took in his direction was harder than the last.

"Conan ... I have to talk to you."

"What is it?" He closed the paper.

"There's something I haven't told you." I looked down at my feet.

"Okay. Tell me."

"I'm not who you think I am."

"What you do mean? You're my one and only Scarlet."

"Scarlet's not my real name."

"Who are you?" he growled and he leaned toward me.

I wanted to run but my feet were stuck to the ground. I forced myself to look him in the eye. _This is it_. _There's no turning back now_.

"I am ... I'm ... I've been ... Conan ..."

"Spit it out! Tell me who you are!" Conan threw the newspaper down and stood up.

"I was sent to spy on Wilmar."

"Who the hell do you work for you devious little bitch?!" he screamed as he put his giant hand around my neck. He slammed me into the bathroom door and lifted me off my feet. "Your only hope is to start talking ... NOW!"

"I ... I can't breathe," I wheezed as I clawed at his hand and kicked my legs.

He lowered me to the floor and loosened his grip around my throat. I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath.

"Who do you work for?" He glared into my eyes and sneered at me. His gray eyes were glowing with fury and his lips were quivering.

"White Holdings." I coughed.

"You work for that evil old hag!" He tossed me on the bed and put his knee on my chest. "Did she try to kill my father?! Were you going to kill me?!" Conan's spit rained down on me as he held my arms above my head with one hand and raised his fist.

"I don't know who tried to kill your father!" _This is it_. _I'm not getting out of this alive_. I started to tremble under his weight and closed my eyes. "She hasn't told me to kill you. I was supposed to get close to you. She wants to stop the merger with Zhong Yuan ... and to stop Wilmar buying up Manhattan. She told the agents that she's trying to acquire Wilmar to protect the people losing their homes and businesses because of developers."

"Is that what the old bitch tells her _agents_?" Conan sat on the bed and stared at me. "She's going for a hostile takeover to fill her many accounts. I want you to know that we're planning to build a lot of affordable housing in Manhattan, and we're offering tenants and small businesses long-term leases with rent control. Anyone who's lost their apartment or business is being paid handsomely for the inconvenience, and we're doing everything we can to work with them ... to help them move or set up shop somewhere else."

"I ... I didn't know. I'm so sorry Conan," I whispered.

"Screw you Scarlet. Never mind about that bitch boss of yours. You wormed your way into my life and lied to me ... lied through your teeth! You're just another heartless hussy toying with me, like my ex! I almost killed her when I found out she slept with that hedge fund manager. And now you've betrayed me worse than she did."

"Conan, please listen to me, please," I begged as tears gushed from my eyes. "I love you."

"SHUT UP! I don't want to hear any more lies you scheming slag!"

"I'm not lying." I grabbed his wrist with both my hands. "Conan you don't understand. The White Queen ..."

"Oh hell no!" He yanked his arm up. "You call her the _White_ _Queen_? What sort of sick shit is that?"

"It's worse than that." I sobbed. "I call her mama."

"You told me you aren't close to your parents," he said with bile.

"She's not my mother. She saved me on my seventeenth birthday. My mother abandoned me when I was five, left me with my abusive stepfather. I ran away when I was sixteen. I was homeless, sleeping rough. Mrs. White found me and took me to her school."

"You've infiltrated my company and my heart with your deceptions and lies! Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?!"

"No," I mumbled through my tears. "I just want you to understand why I work for her ... why I've done the things I've done. It's no excuse, but I was desperate, literally starving. It was either go with her to the Academy or starve or freeze to death that winter. The other girls became my sisters and she became my mama. They're the only real family I've ever had. She told us we were doing good ... fighting evil."

"I don't believe you." He stood up and paced back and forth. "You played me like a FOOL! What am I to you? A game?!" He picked up a vase and hurled it against the wall.

A shard of glass ricocheted off the wall and hit my face. It cut me and a drop of blood appeared below my eye.

"Scarlet!" Conan ran over to the bed and cupped my face in his hands. "Your face ... I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you." Tears welled up in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I never wanted to hurt you either." I took his hands and kissed them. "Conan, you have to believe me when I tell you that I fell in love with you. I never lied to you about that. My love for you is the only thing I'm sure about. I don't even know who I am, but I know I love you. You're all that matters to me. When the Wh ... when Mrs. White finds out that I fell in love with you she'll probably have me killed."

"Oh Lord, this is a huge mess." Conan put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. "Scarlet, you should've told me sooner. How can I ever trust you again?"

"I don't know. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. I'm not the only agent in Wilmar. If any of my sisters suspected that you'd found out ... I don't know what would've happened to us. Please Conan ... please believe me."

"Scarlet, fuck! The idiot in me wants to believe you. The CSO in me says I can never trust you again."

"Conan." I touched the red ruby heart on my finger. "I chose you over her. I wouldn't have come here with you if I hadn't. Ask me anything you want. I'll tell you everything I know."

"Why should I believe that you aren't still lying? How can I trust you? How do I know that you won't take one of those knives and stab me in the back the first chance you get?"

I got off the bed and grabbed my bags and platform stilettos.

"I didn't bring any blades. Here." I handed him my shoes. "There are secret compartments in the soles ... for hiding my switchblades. Check. You'll see that they're empty. And look through my bags ... no knives, no daggers, no ice picks. Conan, I came here because I want to be with you more than anything in the world. I'm risking my life telling you all this and I don't care."

Conan dumped everything out of my suitcase and ripped out the lining. Then he did the same with my clutch.

"Just because you don't have any _blades_ doesn't mean you couldn't poison me, or have me ambushed, or kill me with a steak knife from the dining room."

"You're right, but you have to make a decision. Are you going to have whatever's done to corporate spies done to me? Or are you going to trust me?"

"How many of you are in Wilmar?"

"I know of three, but there are others. Mimi's in operations, Liza's in accounts, and there's someone in HR but I don't know who. I don't know where the others work, or how many of them there are."

"Can you find out?"

"It's too late."

"What do you mean? Why?"

"They'll be making their move tomorrow ... unless Mrs. White has already convinced Zhong Yuan to back out of the merger. And if she hasn't, she'll do whatever it takes to stop it ... even if it means lives will be lost."

"Holy Christ Scarlet. You've really waited until the last second on this. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry. I tried, but I didn't have the courage."

"I don't want to hear it. I have to get back immediately."

"No! Conan, it's not safe for you to go back. They know I'm here with you ... and I confessed my feelings for you to Mimi. I've tried to play my feelings down, but they know I was lying. There's a GPS tracker on my phone, so they know we've been together every weekend. Whenever an agent falls for a target ... it's not good. People usually end up hurt ... or dead."

"Scarlet, you know someone's tried to kill my father recently, and my company's at risk! You're delusional if you think I'm going to run away from that evil old hag and her _agents_! I'm sure my guys and I can handle a bunch of women!"

"You can't go back. You have to listen to me. You don't understand," I pleaded. "They're not just a bunch of women. They're trained killers."

"Do you think my guys and I aren't trained killers? What do you think West Point is? Babysitter school?"

"Conan, she gives the orphaned and forgotten lives with purpose, lives with a mission. Her agents fight to the death for love and loyalty. Your guys fight for money."

"I pay them well and I treat them well!"

"I just meant don't underestimate her agents." I took a deep breath and massaged my neck. "The other thing is that the White Qu ... she has the police in her pocket. So unless you're also bribing the police commissioner, they aren't going to be any help."

"Fuck!" Conan punched the wall. "I don't care. I'm not running away from this. Did you really tell Mimi your feelings for me?"

"Yes."

"Are you with me?" Conan stared into my eyes.

"I'll always be with you." I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, forcing my tongue into his mouth and engulfing him once more in the flames of our passion. "In case we don't make it out alive ... I want you to know that we are real."

"Let's go."
Final Orders

I stared at Niagara Falls as we left Canada. _Two countries separated by the falls. Has anyone who's traversed them lived_?

"What's your real name," asked Conan as he handed me back my passport and ID.

"My given name was Mary, but Mrs. White renamed me Janet. I prefer Scarlet ... my latest identity." I took off my engagement ring and offered it back to him. He ignored me and I slipped the ring in my pocket.

"Then we'll just stick with that for now."

Conan didn't say another word for the rest of the drive. We were back in Manhattan just as the sun set. His face was masked in shadows as he parked in front of my apartment.

"Will you be okay?" he asked.

"Yes." I took off my seat belt. "I'm more worried about you. Promise me you'll be extra careful."

"Don't worry about me." He chuckled.

"My sisters could come for you any time."

"I'll worry about that if it happens. If you don't mind, I'll just pop the trunk so you can get your suitcase. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Of course," I said as I got out of the car.

I grabbed my suitcase and went upstairs. My phone started ringing before I got inside.

"Hello." My voice was shaky.

"Janet."

"Hi Mama. I'm back home."

"I know. You'll be picked up at six a.m. sharp. Good night," she said and hung up.

I dumped out my small suitcase and filled it with my personal belongings. Then I packed my shoes--I hid the engagement ring in the secret compartment of one of my stilettos--and clothes in the rest of my luggage. I wanted to be ready to run if the White Queen let me go after I saw her.

Milky rubbed herself against my leg. I picked her up and kissed her. "I'll leave the window open so you can escape if anything happens to me." She licked my face and I put her on my bed.

I went into the bathroom and took a long shower.

* * *

The White's Queen chauffeur was waiting for me in a white Mercedes when I stepped outside at six the next morning. I got in the back seat and tried to prepare myself for an interrogation. The drive felt longer than normal.

We stopped for the usual security checks before we drove up the driveway to the mansion. The White Queen was waiting at the front door. She was wearing a white mink stole and a long-sleeved white gown. She seemed to be inflating and deflating as she breathed.

I got out of the car and walked up the red carpet between the birds of prey statues. They felt more ominous than I remembered and I clenched my fists.

I smiled at the White Queen as I went up the stairs. She had on a white pearl necklace and matching earrings. The smooth pearls were a huge contrast to her wrinkly skin. _She's just an ageing snowy owl, I shouldn't be afraid of her_.

"Scarlet, you're home." The White Queen wrapped me in her owl wings and held me to her bosom.

"Mama."

"Come inside." She ushered me into the state room. "Sit, sit," she said as she plopped down in her white leather chair. "You went to Canada did you? How was it?"

"Conan invited me to go for the weekend ... I couldn't decline his invitation."

"Of course not. That's why I gave you a passport. Now, here are your final orders." She took a white envelope from a pocket in the lining of her stole and handed it to me. "The Zhong Yuan executives have proven to be much more _honorable_ than we anticipated, and your sisters didn't uncover any unfortunate financial realities within Wilmar itself. As such, we haven't been able to persuade Zhong Yuan to walk away from the merger. If we want to save our city, we have no choice but to use the only option that remains. Nonetheless, you'll be leaving us for good when the mission's over."

"Leaving you for good?" My jaw dropped.

"After we stop the merger, you'll be given your new identity and a bank account with sufficient funds to last you a lifetime ... as long as you're not overly extravagant. The only condition is that you have to leave the country within a week, and you must never return to New York City."

"Why?"

"You're past your prime," she said. "It's for your own safety."

"But this is the only life I know." _Why am I arguing with her_? _I want to leave_.

"My dear Janet, I've seen you transform from a starving young girl into a beautiful, ambitious young woman. You're grown up now, and like all children, you have to leave home. I know you'll be fine. Believe in yourself my child."

"But ..." I finally understood why all the agents were young. The White Queen ultimately tossed her _children_ out of the nest for good.

"No buts," she said with a stern look. "Just follow your orders and we'll take care of the rest."

"I have one last question."

"Ask, my child."

"Who gave you the moonstone ring?" I pointed to her finger.

"It was a gift from my husband," she said. Her owl eyes drifted to the gleaming moonstone. "He disappeared many years ago. We never found the body."

"I'm sorry," I said, looking down at the envelope in my hands. _Did she kill her own husband_?

"Janet, there's something very important I want you to remember."

"What Mama?"

"I saved your life and made you who you are today. You owe everything to me."

"Yes ... I do."

"Goodbye my darling. Until we meet again," she said softly as she held out her hand.

I reluctantly shook her hand and the butler showed me out. I got in the car and stared at the envelope as we drove away from the mansion.

I thought about all the agents who left one day and never returned, all the missions, all the killing. Our handiwork was always covered up by the media. They'd report the death of a CEO, mobster, or politician as due to a heart attack, car crash, plane crash, or unfortunate accident, but we knew the truth. _I guess she can't risk keeping agents around after she's finished with us_.

I stayed on the Wilmar mission so I could find my mother, but I was no closer than when I first arrived in the city. _I've failed my own mission_. I still dreamt about my mother. Sometimes she was a sun rising over my bloody massacres, the metallic sounds of blades striking each other the soundtrack of my dream. _Would my mother love me if she knew I was a seductress and assassin_?

I took the letter out of the envelope.

_Dearest Janet_ :

_We have your beloved Conan. We will not hesitate to kill him if you interfere with our plans._

_You were always special to me, my dear Janet. I'm giving you this chance to start anew. If you cross me, I will not be forgiving._

_You are on your own now._

_The White Queen_

The thought of never seeing Conan again was too much to bear. He mattered more to me now than finding my mother. I couldn't let my sisters kill him. He was in the White Queen's sights because of me. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to him.

I had to come up with a plan to save him _. If it's the last thing I do, I'll die trying to save him_.
Emergency

It was early afternoon by the time I got back to my apartment. I bolted out of the car and up the stairs.

I threw open my packed luggage and quickly changed into my leather catsuit and knee-high leather boots. I tucked a pair of leather gloves into the boots. This was my killing outfit. The catsuit was designed with eight hidden sheaths that allowed easy deployment of blades. The boots had secret compartments in the soles for switchblades, and I could carry two more blades in the uppers. I loaded up my blades and tied my long hair in a ponytail, tucking it down the back of the suit.

I grabbed my phone and ran down the fire escape. I called Conan but his phone was off. I pulled up Kelvin's number and began walking.

"Kelvin it's Scarlet. Is Conan at work?"

"Hi Scarlet," said Kelvin. "No. I thought he was with you."

"Kelvin, listen to me very closely. Conan's been taken hostage."

"What?! Fuck!" Kelvin roared. "I told him not to go off on that little romantic getaway without his bodyguards! What the hell is going on?!"

"White Holdings is hell-bent on stopping the merger with Zhong Yuan and they'll do whatever it takes. They're planning to kill the Eagle at the meeting ... to scare off Zhong Yuan. If they can't do that, they'll kill Conan."

"How the fuck do you know all this?!"

"Kelvin, that doesn't matter. All that matters right now is that you understand that Wilmar's under attack and you need to do what I tell you to do. I'll explain later."

"Okay, okay. What do I need to do?"

"Where's the Eagle?"

"He's in the boardroom with the rest of the board and the Chinese guys," said Kelvin. "They're having lunch before the meeting."

"Get up there immediately with your toughest men. Take as many as you can, and they better be armed. You need to evacuate the floor, but keep the board and the Zhong Yuan executives in the boardroom."

"Scarlet, this sounds crazy. What's really going on? Is this some sort of security drill?"

"NO! Mrs. White's agents are going to try to get into the boardroom. You can't let that happen. They don't carry firearms, but they'll have other weapons. If they get in the building, I need your guys to hold them for me. I have to talk to them."

"Oh fuck. I've heard rumors about that old hag and her _killer Amazons_ , but I never believed them."

"Well you better believe."

"What about Conan?"

"I couldn't get him on his phone. I'll head over to his apartment after I talk to Christophe. I'm pretty sure the _killer Amazons_ were waiting for him last night. I tried to warn him, but he laughed."

"Why do you need to talk to Christophe?"

"We don't have time for more questions Kelvin. If we all get out of this alive, I'll explain later. Just do it ... please."

"Okay."

I hung up and called Christophe.

"Christophe, it's Scarlet."

"Hey Scarlet. How's it going? We haven't had a pizza in a long time."

"Christophe, we have an emergency. Where are you?"

"I took the morning off. I just got to my desk."

"I need you to look at the live cameras around the building."

"Okay. Hold on a minute. Let me get into them ..."

"Christophe hurry up!"

"I am. Okay, I'm looking at the live feeds from around the building."

"Does anything look suspicious?"

"What do you mean?" Christophe asked.

"Does anything look off? Is anyone staking the place out? Is there a white van parked close to the building."

"Um ... let's see ... uh, yeah. There's a girl in a green shirt in a white van along the side of the main building. She's frantically pounding away on a laptop."

"Shit! She's hacking into the system."

"Very funny Scarlet. You know my system is secure."

"Christophe, just humor me and check to see if you still have access to the system."

"Okay ... _merde_!" Christophe screamed.

"What's going on?"

"That bitch is hacking my system! She's put the internal cameras on loops and locked me out of the building controls. What the hell is going on?"

"We're under attack. I don't have time to explain. Just try to lock her out and get control back. If you can do that, change all the access codes and seal the building."

"What about you Scarlet? Where are you?"

"I'm trying to save Conan," I said and hung up.

I flagged a taxi.

* * *

When I got to Conan's building, nothing was right. All the CCTV cameras had been blown out with darts and the security guards were nowhere in sight.

I checked my blades and put on my gloves before I got in the elevator. I entered the security code and the little green light came on.

Conan's front door had been kicked in. I went inside and the place was a mess. It looked like there'd been a bar brawl in the living room. The glass coffee table was smashed to smithereens, half of his books were scattered around the living room floor, and his desk was overturned.

I rushed into the bedroom. Conan was gagged and bound to his office chair with black duct tape. Mimi and Liza were standing in front of him. There were superficial wounds on his arms and a bloody slash in his right leg.

"Scarlet, you're here," Mimi squealed. "We were told you weren't coming, but we knew you would!"

_They think I'm here to help_. _Perfect_.

"You do the honors," said Liza as she handed me her knife.

"I thought he was only supposed to be killed if we don't get his father," I said. "Have you got the kill order yet?"

"Not yet," Liza said. "We're supposed to call Vanus at three. But as you can see, he was very uncooperative and he forced us to hurt him." She turned to Conan and backhanded him across the face. "This right here is an injured pig. We have to kill him. We have no choice. He's too dangerous."

"You stupid, stupid man," said Mimi. "I don't like having to kill people and now you're making us do something that didn't have to happen."

"I know he's hurt," I said. "But don't you think we should still wait for the order? What if we need him alive for something?"

"What the hell is wrong with you two fools?!" Liza screamed. "The White Queen only told you that we wouldn't have to kill anyone so you wouldn't freak out and blow the mission. Everyone knows that mobster job fucked you both up. And you both know that this pig was never going to get out of this alive. He's the goddamn heir to Wilmar and the White Queen wants him taken care of. I'm not wasting my time waiting for an order that I know is coming. So Janet, either you take care of this pig right now, or give me back my knife and I'll do it myself." Liza walked toward me and held out her hand.

"Liza's right," said Mimi. "Anyway, just remember that he's a filthy liar like all men. Go for it Scar ... for the White Queen."

"Sisters, you're right," I said. "I'll take care of this pig for the White Queen."

I turned around to face Conan. He was looking at me with a pained expression. I walked toward him very slowly as I swung the knife around in the air and slipped another one out of my catsuit. I was motioning with my eyes for him to look at my boot uppers and hoped he understood. He gave a long blink.

With two swift motions, I cut the tape around Conan's torso and wrists, and he grabbed a knife out of my boot. I swung around and ran at Liza, plunging a knife into her stomach as Conan rushed Mimi and pinned her to the ground.

"Don't hurt her," I called to Conan.

Liza collapsed in a heap, but I knew the cut wouldn't kill her. She held her midsection, trying to stop the bleeding.

I took a few ties out of Conan's closet. "Tie her up," I said as I tossed them at him. I grabbed a few more and tied Liza's hands behind her back, then I tied one around her wound.

"You'll never get away with this Janet! Never!" Mimi screamed. "How could you choose your target over your own sisters!"

"HOW DARE YOU!" I screamed at Mimi. "You chose Vargen over us and it nearly cost me my life!"

"I'll get you you traitor!" yelled Mimi. "If it's the last thing I do, I swear I'll get you!

"Gag her," I said.

Conan stuffed a tie in her mouth and ripped the duct tape off his. Then he tied a tie around the gash in his leg.

"Sisters, I never wanted to betray you," I said. "But the White Queen is a dangerous woman. She convinces us that we're working for the greater good, but in reality we risk our lives to increase her power and grow her empire. And as for you Mimi, I took a knife for you and saved your life. Remember that. Conan, we have to go. When they don't hear from these two at three they'll send more agents."

Conan gave me a passionate kiss. "Let's move. My car's in the garage."

"Can you drive?" I asked. "I mean your leg is hurt."

"I'll drive. It looks worse than it is, and if a taxi driver noticed we'd probably be taken straight to a hospital. More importantly, it sounds like my father's in trouble. We need to get to the office, fast."
Revelations

It was chaos outside the Wilmar complex. People were pouring out of all the buildings like crazed rats.

Conan parked in front of the main building and limped toward the large glass doors as quickly as he could.

"What's happening?" Conan asked the guards on the door.

"Something's going on in the boardroom. Kelvin ordered us to evacuate the building."

Conan grabbed my hand and we fought our way through the crowd of people scrambling to get out. We took an elevator up to the top floor.

We stepped into the large lobby outside the boardroom and found an armed security team holding my sisters at gunpoint. My sisters were outnumbered four to one.

I pushed through the security guys and put myself in the middle of the action.

"Scarlet!" Conan yelled. "What are you doing?"

"No one has to die today. Conan, please, let's negotiate."

"Only if they give up their weapons," said Conan.

"Vanus, do you want to try to fight your way out, or do you want to go home tonight?"

"Sisters, put down your weapons," Vanus ordered.

Kelvin and a few of his team collected everything and herded my sisters into a group in the middle of the lobby.

"At ease boys," Conan ordered his men.

"I'll take over from here." Johnson Wilmar stepped out from behind the security team. He walked toward me with his arms outstretched and cupped my face in his hands.

Something about his touch felt familiar. I was overwhelmed with confusion.

"My darling girl. I knew you were a born leader the moment I met you. How do you wish to handle this?"

"Let my sisters go."

"Very well," said Johnson. "Do you have anything to say to them before they're escorted out of the building?"

"Vanus, tell your mother that I've spared your lives and my debt to her is repaid."

"I will Janet," said Vanus. "I'm sorry it ended this way, but I have a feeling we'll meet again. You shouldn't have betrayed us."

"Kelvin, get these _ladies_ out of here," said Johnson.

The Zhong Yuan executives filed out of the boardroom. They were frowning and speaking in Mandarin. They definitely sounded angry. I guessed that the merger didn't go through. _At least the White Queen will be happy about that_.

"Conan, please see our guests out. Everyone else, clear the floor," said Johnson. "Scarlet, I have to introduce you to someone."

Mrs. Wilmar walked out of the boardroom as the elevators closed.

"We've met," I said. "Hello Mrs. Wilmar. How's your breathing?"

"Mary!" She ran toward me and threw her arms around me.

Her melodic voice saying my name pulled old, familiar memories from the recesses of my mind. _Is she really my mother_? I was filled with a mixture of love and hate. I didn't know how to respond and I froze.

"My sweet, sweet Mary," said Mrs. Wilmar. "I'm fine, I'm absolutely fine now. My darling daughter. I'd given up all hope of ever seeing you again."

"Really?" I stepped back from her. "You knew where I was. I was right where you left me ... with that horrible monster. Why didn't you take me with you, or come back for me?" Tears began flowing from my eyes, burning my cheeks.

"Oh my sweetheart." Mrs. Wilmar began to cry. "I should have taken you with me when I left. I'm so, so sorry. I wanted to, but I didn't have enough money to support us. I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to provide for you and that you'd be taken from me and put into an orphanage. I'd learned of your father's divorce and I came here to find him, but I was afraid to tell him that I'd had you in secret. I got very sick after we reconciled, and I've been in and out of hospitals ever since. When I finally went back to the farm it was abandoned and you were gone. That's when I told Johnson the truth. We've been looking for you ever since, but you'd disappeared into thin air."

"I ran away because no one was there to protect me." I started to sob. "You left me with that disgusting drunk to live a life of drudgery and pain. I had to cook and clean and take all his abuse. And then I came here to look for you and I would've died on the streets if Mrs. White hadn't taken me in. I hate you. I hate you so much."

"Hush, hush. We're together now. I've never stopped loving you." Susanne put her arms around me and stroked my hair. "I deserve your hatred my darling daughter. I'm a bad mother, but I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you ... protecting you. Can you ever forgive me?"

The anger in my veins was replaced by a tranquility I hadn't felt in years. I was in my mother's arms again, wrapped in her love. I was returned to that blissful time in childhood when a mother's love is everything. My happy memories came flooding back and I pictured her perfectly in my mind--her blond hair, her hazel eyes, her smile. I saw us holding hands and running through the sunflower fields. _Am I dreaming_?

"All right girls," said Johnson. "It's my turn to talk to my daughter. Let's sit down." He took me by the arm and led me into the boardroom. "Scarlet Walters, my dear. Look at you. A secretary by day and an assassin by night, the alpha female, the apex huntress. You are your father's daughter. It's in your genes to be at the top of the heap."

"How do you know I'm your daughter?" I asked.

"As Matilda ... Susanne said, we've been looking for you for years. When the new health insurance company insisted on DNA testing, it just made sense to find out if anyone matched our DNA. They told us this morning that there was a perfect match and it's you! BINGO!" He leaned forward and took my hand. "We could hardly contain our joy. I liked you the minute Conan brought you home, and I couldn't be happier." He picked up my hand and kissed it.

"I ... I don't know what to say," I said. I carefully touched his face and peered into his dark eagle eyes. They were like mine, but older. _Is he my real father_? _Is he good or bad_? The eagle was the apex predator of the skies. I'd inherited his lust for dominance. It all made sense now. I was a reflection of my father.

"Princess, you don't have to say anything right now," said Johnson. "We know this must be overwhelming."

"But how can you forgive me for working for your enemy?"

"How can you ever forgive us for abandoning you? Mary, we let you down so, so badly. You had no choice but to go with that wretched woman. As it is, I'm thankful to her. She rescued you, protected you, and sent you back to us. Not to mention, you saved my life today. If you hadn't contacted Kelvin and Christophe, Mrs. White's little army would've made it into the boardroom and I'd be lying on a slab in the morgue right now."

"I guess you're right."

"Damn straight I'm right. You're my lost heiress and you've proven yourself more than worthy."

The familiar feelings I got from the Wilmars weren't lies. _Their blood runs through my veins. I'm the heiress of Wilmar Enterprises._

"We'll dominate the world together, daughter."

"What about Conan?" I asked. "I think he wants to take up your offer of becoming CEO."

"Well, we'll talk to him. But I can tell you, my son is only thinking about that because he doesn't want to disappoint me. He's always been a risk taker, and I'm certain that he's in the right position as CSO. Obviously we had some major security breaches today, so we need to review our procedures. But there's no way to stop all corporate espionage, and I'm more concerned about the IT failures. I never wanted those damn centrally controlled electronic locks on everything, and now the board can't argue with me. Anyway, once the security boys were on it they stopped the invasion. Conan's excellent at his job and I don't think he'll mind if you're eventually heading Wilmar."

"What if I don't want Wilmar to dominate everything at all costs? What if I want some compassion in this business?" I asked. My father squashed anything in his way, just like the White Queen. I'd been homeless, and I wasn't going to cause that misery for anyone.

"Don't worry," said Johnson. "Conan's already got me thinking about a kinder, gentler form of domination. But you'll have plenty of time to develop a new vision for the company. I want to see you succeed, and you've already earned my respect. I'll listen to your views."

"I need time to process all this," I said as looked into Johnson's wise eyes.

"Of course. Conan will take you to get your things, and then you're coming home."
Freedom

Wilmar security checked my apartment before I went inside.

"We'll just wait out here for you," said one of the guards.

"Thanks. I won't be long."

Milky looked at me. I sat next to her on the sofa and scratched her furry little head. Everything I'd been told was almost too much, but I knew for certain that I wasn't safe in New York City. It was time to leave.

I destroyed the laptop and cell phone Vanus gave me. Then I shredded all my fake documents with a blade and flushed everything down the toilet.

I took my engagement ring out of the shoe I'd hidden it in and put it on my finger. _Maybe Conan's right to have faith in humanity_. I shoved everything back in my luggage and got Milky's cat bag.

Milky meowed as I picked her up. "Don't worry little one. We're going to a better place."

I opened the door and one of the security guards took my luggage, but I carried Milky. I closed the apartment door for the last time. "Goodbye Scarlet Walters."

Conan was waiting outside with his limo and two Wilmar SUVs. _I guess we can't be too careful now_. The security guard put my luggage in the trunk.

"We should get out of here," Conan said as he opened the car door.

"I told you it wasn't safe to come back." I caressed the bandages on his arms and sat into the back seat. I held Milky's cat bag on my lap.

"I had no choice, but I'm thankful that you were there to save me. You're amazing," he said as he sat down and closed the door.

"You're not welcome. You could've been killed. Do you promise to listen to me from now on?"

"Maybe." He kissed my cheek. "We're safe now, that's the important thing."

"Not for long. We have to leave New York."

"Mary." Conan grabbed my hands and held them to his chest. "After everything that's happened today, I can't bear the thought of spending another night apart from you. I want to get married ... tonight."

"But I don't have any identification."

"Don't worry about that. You're a Wilmar." Conan smiled and squeezed my hands.

"I love you you disobedient, naughty boy."

"I love you too my incredible Mary."

* * *

We drove up to the sliding gate of the Wilmar residence. There were armed security guards stationed around the mansion and property.

My mother and sister had decorated the large, open-concept living room. There were bouquets of flowers everywhere, and cherry-scented candles made an aisle along the curved glass staircase and into the living room. It was perfect for a wedding.

"I'm so glad to have a sister," said Clarissa, jumping up and down and clapping. "You can change in my room upstairs."

I put on a casual white dress and some lip gloss. I didn't have time to buy a wedding gown, but I didn't mind. _A wedding is about love, not the dress_.

Johnson had on a tuxedo. He walked me down the glowing stairs to our family. Clarissa had filled the living room with pieces of art that must've come from her gallery. She handed me a bridal bouquet and gave me a kiss on the cheek as I got to the makeshift altar. My mother's face looked angelic in the candlelight, and my father looked very distinguished as he took his place next to her. Milky was sitting in front of them, purring.

Conan's was wearing his finest suit and a wide smile. He was breathtaking, like the night sky filled with stars. He was truly the Roman god of my dreams.

The justice of the peace stood between me and Conan and joined our hands. Conan squeezed my fingers tightly.

"You may speak your vows," said the justice of the peace.

"Mary, I owe you my life, and I love you like I've never loved before. I am bound to you, and I promise to devote my life to serving you and making you happy. I, Conan, take you, Mary, as my wedded wife for all eternity." He gently kissed my hand and looked at me with his gorgeous wolf pup eyes.

"Conan, you taught me how to love again. Together, we are one complete being united as the sands of time in an infinite hourglass. I, Mary, take you, Conan, as my wedded husband for all eternity."

"You are now husband and wife," said the justice of the peace. "You may kiss the bride."

Clarissa turned on the stereo and Conan and I kissed as wedding bells tolled.

"Congratulations my darling." Susanne gave me a hug as tears welled up in her eyes. "I never thought I would see this day."

I saw a sunflower field under a blue sky and my mother turning around with open arms to hug me.

Conan lifted me up and swung me around in a circle as our family cheered and clapped. I was surrounded by love, and I'd finally found the happiness I'd longed for. I no longer had to worry about the villainous White Queen or the scheming sisters. I had my real parents, a new sister, and a husband who loved me. I couldn't ask for anything more.

"Sweetheart, we didn't have time to get you a proper gift, but we hope this will do for now," said Johnson as he placed a passport in my hand.

I opened the passport. It belonged to Mary Wilmar.

"How did you get this?" I asked.

"We have connections." Johnson smiled. "As soon as we got the news this morning, I made a few calls. You're our daughter and it's time for you to take your rightful place in the world."

"You don't know how much this means to me," I said as tears rolled down my cheeks.

_I am Mary Wilmar. This is who I really am._ All the pain of my past was erased in that instant. I was no longer under anyone's control. My life was my own to live with my husband.

"Welcome home, Mary," said Johnson as he wiped my tears and kissed me.

* * *

We drove in a convoy of limos toward Chicago.

"You look as dashing as ever," I said, I looking at Conan. "I'm so glad we're married."

"Me too." Conan squeezed my hand and kissed me.

The sound of bursting tires shattered the night air.

_Winda._
What did you find for yourself through the journey of the Red Hourglass? Help others find their truths by sharing this book. The sequels will be released annually in October, on Halloween.

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