High Profile (ShadowOfDesire and Catalyst)

[Catalyst]

Vrrt vrrt. Vrrt vrrt.

One bright gray eye opened lazily, as he tilted his head toward his side, glaring at the little black flip-phone with an immediate and intense urge to chuck it with all of his might right off of this 52nd story balcony. His right arm emerged from the hot, bubbling waters he'd been so enjoying and reached over, fumbling with it in his wet hand. Glancing at the number that appeared on the small rectangular front screen only served to annoy him further. A loud, wildly-exaggerated sigh of discontent escaped him as his head fell backward.

Just leave me the fuck aloooone.

After giving himself a second to internally curse his caller, he forced the phone open with a simple flick of the wrist and pressed it against his ear. "Foxx." he answered flatly. "...I'm exactly where I was the last six fucking times you called me, where do you think?" The voice on the other end of line had a great deal to say, but it did not appear as though he was all too interested in hearing the majority of it. Always the same old shit. I wish they would just let me do my god damned job... he lamented to himself.

He let out another audible sigh as he absent-mindedly checked the nails on his opposite hand, making it clear that he was feeling particularly impatient and bothered with the continuous monotonous voice droning on in his ear. How many times am I going to have to hear the same information? Over and over again, as though he didn't comprehend it all the first half a dozen times. They'd always been a little overbearing for his tastes, even on the simplest of missions. Having to answer to them for something as high profile as this had quickly become just about insufferable.

"Target has a meeting at ten o'clock tonight," he finally interrupted, detailing his instructions as though he was reading them from a script. "Dude's gonna park his over-compensating ass car in the Western Lot of the Ritz-Carlton, just like he always does, and meet with the guy in his room. Then I'm gonna watch them and figure out who he's talking too, why, and what it's all about. I'm gonna track him back, see where he's going, get whatever information I can, and report it. No shots fired, no matter how good of a view I have. Blah, blah, blah. I know. I know. I heard it from you, I heard it from boss, I got it written down, I got it in the damn docket, I rehearsed it in the mirror 67 times, I got it. I can tattoo it on the insides of my eyelids too, if you'd like. Except if I did that, I wouldn't even be able to fucking see it, because I can't close my eyes for 15 fucking seconds without one of ya calling me!"

"What? No, there hasn't been any problems with the place. Why would there be? This bitch is gonna be gone for another three weeks, at least. Plenty of time for me to get the job done, clean up and get out of here. With time left over to enjoy all of this spoiled rotten little cunt's luxuries in the meantime. But I can't do that if you're gonna be up my ass. You hired me, because you know I do good work. You picked me, because you know that I'm the only person who can get this done, and get it done right. Now, I understand you might be feeling a little pressure right now," he chided sarcastically, "but understand something. I ain't. In fact, you are stressing me out right now WAY more than what I'm here for. And I promise you, you ain't gonna like me when I'm stressed. So why don't ya do me a favor, and trust me to do my damn job, huh? Go get yourself a drink, or a steak, or a warm glass of milk and a nice plate of cookies, and chill. The fuck. Out."

He slammed the phone closed with authority, gripping it in his fist and staring it down as though he could shoot lasers from his eyes and evaporate the damned thing into dust. Alas, he could not do so, and so instead he did the next best thing. He dunked the phone into the sauna and held it there for several seconds, and then pulled it out, opened it, and effortlessly snapped it in two. With a casual toss, he chucked the two pieces off to the side of the massive stone terrace, and leaned back, exhaling in relief and allowing himself to sink slowly back down into quiet, serene comfort.

Miami. The naughty little sister of Sin City itself. A place where all of your lusts, passions, and desires could be satisfied with a little bit of cash and a place to sleep off the hangover. Unfortunately for some, not all sins are forgotten, nor forgiven, and no city is without its dark side. For him, this penthouse in the sky, however much he may have enjoyed it, with its three-sixty views from the ever bright and bustling downtown to the marinas and beaches that framed the ocean, was only a temporary home; an office of sorts, from which he was to conduct his business. This place of business was, in reality, the borrowed residence of a sickeningly rich trust-fund baby with a pretty face and an ass just right for her fans to drool and envy over, and plenty of people willing to throw money at her to show it off. For now, though, she was away, and had been ever so generous as to let him use it...so long as she never knew about it at all, of course. Regardless, as far as he was concerned, his stay here was very well deserved, and very well earned, and he had every intention of making the most of its amenities during his stay, mixing in as much pleasure with his business as he saw fit.

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

"No! I'm back home. I couldn't very well stay, now could I? I told him to go fuck himself, and then I left. I can't believe he'd do that to me. Me! And with her! That fucking whore. After everything I did for her. She has no idea what she's done. She won't be able to work in Miami, not after what Mory is going to do for me. I already told him that I'd walk if they didn't drop her, and he can't afford that. So she's going to get the boot, and good luck to her finding anyone else that will dare to pick her up after this. She obviously didn't know who she was fucking with."

Sofia exited the elevator onto her floor, tilting her head to hold her phone to her ear while she unlocked her apartment. After stepping inside, she waved the doorman in after her, gesturing into the foyer to indicate where he should leave her luggage. She'd carried only her purse and a bag of Thai takeout, leaving him to manage her two giant suitcases, a smaller one that held all of her shoes, a garment bag, a duffle, her laptop bag, and her small carry on. While he unloaded the luggage cart, she dropped her designer purse and keys onto the table in the foyer.

"Of course not," she muttered as she rifled through her Prada bag in search of her matching wallet. "There's no way in hell I was going to fly back commercial, even on a first class flight. Are you kidding me? From France? No, I'm not sitting that long in a plane full of screaming babies and rank European women that don't bother to shave their pits."

"Listen, don't tell anyone I'm back, okay? I'm still supposed to be on vacation for the next few weeks, and I'm not in the mood to start taking calls. That mamabicho has me more fucked up than I'd like to admit. I need some time to simmer down and plot my goddamn revenge. He's lucky I didn't cut off his cock. He would have deserved it." As the doorman finished up, she fished a fifty from her wallet and handed it to him. He nodded in appreciation and quickly left with his cart, closing the door behind him. She locked the deatbolt and threw on the security latch. "Yes, I would have! I swear! At that point, I really didn't care if I'd gotten arrested. I didn't get any good blows on him, but I did snatch out a chunk of her weave. It was cheap, anyway."

As she paused at the edge of the foyer's polished marble floor, she balanced on one foot to unfasten her wedge sandal, kicking it off where she stood before doing the same with the other. "No, I've got a whole line of shots that Cami will be posting soon like nothing ever happened. Mmm, you'll see. Yea, they're hot." She laughed. "Good idea. I have several of his dick pics that just might get leaked. I'll speak with Mory about it. Anyway, I'll talk to you later, girl. Give me a few days. I'll call you when I'm ready for company. Yes. Okay. Will do. Alright, later."

She sighed as she hung up, bare feet slapping softly against cold stone as she moved into the kitchen. Sliding her phone onto the counter as she passed, she stopped to open the fridge. Of course, she had little in the way of food because she'd cleared out the perishables before going on vacation, but she still had wine and bottled water in the fridge, and vodka in the freezer. Everything else she could have delivered within a couple of hours after placing an order online. Pulling out one of the waters, she returned to the kitchen island and began unpacking her food. The pleasant smell of Pad Thai had her stomach rumbling.

She was still extremely pissed, but food would do a lot to dull that emotion. She never stayed angry for long. It took too much energy. No, Sofia wasn't the sort to stay angry. She just waited, remembering every little thing that everyone did to her, biding her time until she could use their dirt against them for the ultimate revenge. Sofia Diaz hadn't gotten to be one of Miami's most sought after models by letting people step on her. She was the one that usually did the stepping. People usually learned to just get out of her way.

Whatever Sofia wanted, she usually got... one way or another.

 

[Catalyst]

From the rooftop terrace of the massive apartment, and while so self-interested, there was not a chance he could have heard her as the rightful resident returned, as oblivious to her presence as she was to his. Without a doubt, he would have been perfectly content to remain there all day, the steamy waters embracing him and relaxing all of his muscles while the warm, bright Florida sun hung in the vast blue cloudless sky above. But there would be plenty of time for that in the coming weeks, and as peaceful minutes glided on by, and with the crystal glass he'd taken from the terrace bar now empty, a refill was calling his name. Clearly, though he'd only taken up residence here a few short days ago, it had not taken him long at all to make himself at home. Already, he was beginning to contemplate why exactly it was he would ever have to leave. After all, its not like she ain't got the space...I mean, what the fuck is a 23-year-old possibly gonna do with SIX bedrooms, anyway? The mere thought was enough to make him shake his head and scoff at the notion. She probably goes months without setting foot in half this place of it.

The water shifted and sloshed around him as he rose, climbing out of the hot tub and setting his feet on the hot ground as droplets dripped and streamed down off of him, darkening the bright white stone with little puddles that would evaporate within moments under the afternoon sun. If only I'd thought to bring a swimsuit, he mocked himself. Instead, he'd simply stripped off his clothes, save for the pair of black Calvin Kleins he'd been wearing underneath. All the same, as far as he was concerned. Unless it was from a Helicopter, it wasn't as though anyone was in a position to look down on him for his choice. He was, for all intents and purposes, on top of the damn world.

He'd snatched up a towel from one of the chairs nearby and dried himself off most of the way, but his skin still glistened under the bright natural light as he found his way back to the bar, poured himself another double of top-shelf whiskey, and made a mental toast to himself and the temporary comforts he had to look forward to, as he looked out over the ocean, and at the crowded beach down below. Looking at him now, one never would have had so much as an inkling all of the things he'd done to get to where he was now. And even then, while he wasn't without his own luxuries, it didn't hold a candle to this.

Un-fuckin-believable, he thought to himself as he took a deep swig. Rooftop bars, hot tubs, a different bed for every night of the week, and a different toilet for every shit. No chance in hell she's ever had to cook a meal or clean up behind herself if she didn't want to. I'm sure she usually has her own private chef, maids, bartenders...any God damn thing she wants, all without ever lifting a finger. He was never much fond of old-money. Growing up the way he did, why would he be? If I had one-fifth of what this bitch had... he thought...

Well...I wouldn't be fucking killing people for a living, that's for sure...

Polishing off his glass, he set it atop the bar, figuring he'd deal with it later. He toweled off a little more before throwing it, along with his clothes, over one shoulder. There still was not an iota of suspicion in his mind that he was no longer alone, and as walked through the upper-level foyer and living area toward the bedroom he had claimed as his own, the only sound he heard was his own quiet footsteps.

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

Sofia answered the door before it rang, preening slightly as the delivery boy's eyes boggled. Tanning always relaxed her after a long day of travel, and while she did lay out in the sun completely naked (the horror of tan lines!), she taken pity on the poor kid and worn a light robe rather than showing up to the door nude. Not that she hadn't done that before, simply to amuse herself, but some men took it as an invitation, mixing up their porn fantasies with the real world. Of course, she'd made some of those fantasies come true on occasion, so she couldn't really fault them. However, she was in no mood to take a tumble with a poor delivery guy that likely worked for minimum wage plus tips to put himself through college. He wasn't cute enough to tempt her, anyhow.

As he seemed new and had never delivered to her apartment, she gestured for him to follow and led the way into the kitchen. "Cold stuff in the fridge, frozen stuff in the freezer, and everything else you can put in the pantry. I don't care where you put it, just as long as you put it out of sight." As he deposited the bags onto the counter, she moved to rifle through a few of them in search of something particular. That particular something turned out to be a pouch of sugar free frozen strawberry margarita, which she immediately opened to pour into a glass. As she sipped the frozen beverage, she watched the guy as he began to unpack, and immediately grew irritated at his nervous glances. "Yea, so I'll leave you to it. Let yourself out. Tip is on the table by the door."

Her filmy robe breezing out behind her, Sofia headed for the stairs and climbed to the second floor. Her rooftop terrace and amazing view of the ocean were what sold her on that particular condo. The price had been a modest 8.5 million when she bought it. The value had skyrocketed in the past couple of years as Miami expanded and grew, but she enjoyed her home too much to sell. It was an amazing place to throw a party, with plenty of bedrooms and bathrooms split between the two floors to accommodate even a large gathering. Now, with her apartment completely empty, she enjoyed it even more. Having grown up in a mansion that was easily four times the size of her modest place, she felt most comfortable when she had room to roam.

As she reached the terrace, she moved to unlock the sliding door and found it hadn't been latched. That drew a frown, but she couldn't remember if she'd locked it when she'd been away. However, someone else could have easily left it unlocked by mistake when they came to service the apartment. Her maid wasn't scheduled to clean until the week before she returned, but she'd mentioned the need to have her hot tub cleaned to the building's concierge, so perhaps a maintenance visit had been scheduled during her trip. As she threw a glance at the spa, she spotted the cover propped against the wall and frowned. That settled it -- they'd called a service tech and he'd done a sloppy job of cleaning up after himself. Another shaft of irritation rolled through her as she passed the tub on the way to the pool, making a mental note to call and complain. Someone was going to get their ass chewed.

After grabbing a couple of towels from storage, she took one to cover her favorite deck chair and slipped off her robe, laying down on her bare stomach. She took a long drink of her margarita before rolling up her other towel to fit beneath her head. Finally content, she closed her eyes to bask in the warm Florida sunshine.

 

[Catalyst]

He had emerged from the bedroom sometime later, now fully dressed and having cared for himself rather nicely. In his hand, he held a little dark blue flip-phone, a replacement for the one he'd dispatched of earlier. He'd only brought so many along. A few more annoyances like that and he may just be forced to make a trip to purchase an extra or two. He sighed as he closed its hinge and tucked it away into his pocket. His slim-fitting black shirt hugged his muscular body tightly, making no secret of the broad-shouldered, strong body that lie beneath it. It had been buttoned from bottom to top, save for the uppermost two, rendering the hair upon his upper chest just barely visible. The long sleeves were fixed carefully at his wrists with small, ornate platinum cufflinks, and the fabric seemed to strain ever so slightly around his upper arms. His pants followed much the same style, matching in both color and in fit, along with his hard leather shoes. His normal accessories - a silver watch and a mid-length chain around his neck, completed a look that would allow him to fit in quite nicely without standing out or raising any particular questions one way or another.

Having thoroughly enjoyed his time for relaxation, even in spite of the interruption, he had shifted his focus for the time being toward the work that needed to be done. Tonight, he would be spending hours on end keeping a hawk's eye on his targets, keeping tabs on their every move. Before that, though, he would first need to make his way over to the Ritz himself, to meet with his own personal informant. With all of his connections in this city, it was almost unfair. No doubt by now, whoever it was his target was meant to be meeting with tonight would have already checked in. He wouldn't have done so under his real name, of course, but if he thought that would be sufficient, well, then it was clear he had never met this man before.

With a slight tug of adjustment at his shirt collar, he made his way downstairs. Immediately, he noted what he thought to be a subtle scent permeating the air at the foot of the stairs near the kitchen, one that caught enough of his attention to stop him for a short moment as he looked around, nostrils flaring in a futile attempt to discern the smell. He wasn't sure that he could place it, though. With time, it had faded just enough that he was able to dismiss it without much consideration, especially given that the place seemed just as immaculate as ever, with no trace of anyone's presence in plain sight.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing down at his watch. It was not as though he was short on time for his preparations, but a man like himself had always been very keen on punctuality and on being at exactly the right place, at exactly the right time. Without allowing himself to be any further distracted, he hurried out through the foyer and through the short hall with sight remaining fixated straight ahead of him all the way, focused solely on himself and his own tasks-at-hand. As such, he was more than a bit surprised, to say the least, when he turned the corner into the elevator corridor to see the delivery boy standing there, the call button already pushed and highlighted in blue.

"Who are you?" he asked aloud, catching the kid by surprise and causing him to startle.

"Oh, I, uh, I'm just grocery delivery, sir..." the boy responded sheepishly. "your usual carrier moved away, so they're sending me now instead. Sorry about that." He was young, innocent looking. Hell, he could not have possibly been more than nineteen or twenty years old. And apparently, he had mistaken him as being the owner of the penthouse apartment, as it was the sole residence on this floor. But the very fact that he was here at all was problem enough, as evidenced by the barely contained expression of rage tugging at his mug. Did they seriously forget to cancel the FUCKING grocery delivery?! He internally swore, fighting off the urge to ball his hand in an annoyed fist. To make matters that much worse, the boy was empty-handed, and that, in his mind, could only mean one thing. He must have had a key. He'd already been inside without him knowing.

"It's fine," he said flatly, not allowing his internal anger to show, difficult as it was to hide. "But we won't be needing another delivery this month. Ms. Diaz is going to be away for the next three weeks, so you don't need to come back till then."

"Oh, really?" he asked, looking slightly confused. She hadn't mentioned anything about that when she let him in. "Well okay, I'll tell them that. No problem. Are you like, her agent or something?"

"Yeah, let's go with that," he brandished his wallet from his back pocket as he spoke, pulling out a 20 dollar bill and handing it to the kid. "But here, do me a favor and keep it quiet huh? She wouldn't want people knowing the place is empty." There was still a perplexed look on his face, but the young man nodded thankfully as he took the bill from his hand. The elevator dinged and its large doors slid open on cue, letting them both inside, and he was careful to allow the boy to enter first. Just fucking great, he clenched his teeth behind closed lips. He saw me here...

"What's your name kid?"

"Uh, it's James."

"James," he repeated to himself, making a mental note of the company logo on his shirt as he pressed the lobby button, and the doors slid closed before them. Another name he'd have to take care of...such a pity.

_______________________________

He made quick work of his visit, and had returned not long after with a bag of takeout food hanging from his wrist and a manilla folder in hand. Inside of it, a small stack of paper contained all of the information he needed about the multiple people who had checked in that afternoon, including the party with whom he was particularly concerned. Marco Wilson. That was the name he had given at the front desk. His real name, though, was Angelo Garcia. A 54-year-old out of Westview, Florida, and owner of The Purple Room, A cozy little hole-in-the-wall strip club out on one of the less desirable blocks of downtown Miami. Finding out all of that was the easy part. Uncovering what reason he would have to meet with his target was another matter. Fortunately, everything was working out perfectly in his favor, and just as planned, Mr. Garcia was placed in room 2340. directly in his line of sight, and previously bugged from floor to ceiling. At this rate, he may well be able to complete his job ahead of schedule. Of that, he certainly would not complain.

His footsteps echoed faintly in the empty hall leading from the elevator back to the apartment entrance. The lock clicked open effortlessly with his forged key, and he welcomed himself back in just as he normally would his own home, with every intention of immediately ditching his shoes inside. It was only once he had locked the door behind him and turned to do so that he noticed the women's sandals that had been discarded to one side, one lying on its side and the other upright against the wall. He was sure those hadn't ever seen those there until now...

Wait...what the fuck? He felt himself freeze in place at the sight, scrutinizing with narrowed eyes.

The shoes by themselves, he was not certain of. But the moment his eyes had locked onto the bag that had been set upon the entranceway table, he could feel his stomach drop. That, he was positive, had not been there before. Suddenly, his steps were cautious, as quiet as could be as he approached the table, as though the purse itself was a threat. It wasn't, but as he looked inside, he found that it may as well have been one. There, lying directly at the top of the bag's contents, was an overly decorated ring of keys that felt as if they were staring back at him.

He was not alone.

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

Sofia had a nice, relaxing time laying in the sun and then a brief swim to cool off afterward, both completely nude. Her rooftop terrace was private and the pool was ocean side, so she didn't need to worry about prying eyes. The other side of the terrace, on the opposite side of the upper story rooms, faced the lagoon and other high rise condos in the area. She sometimes lounged there in the evening to watch the boats upon the water below or the lives of those living in other buildings, spying like a voyeur, but that was an unstated part of living in a high rise. There was, of course, the occasional drone flying overhead to capture the ocean views (a more prevalent problem with the popularity of drone footage on social media), but that didn't bother her overly much. So long as they weren't blatantly invading her privacy, she wouldn't report them.

Feeling refreshed, she wrapped herself in a towel against the chill as she entered her air conditioned space and closed the terrace door behind her. She'd wrapped a towel about her hair, as well, so as not to drip all over the floor as she ventured back downstairs. She paused in the kitchen to place her glass in the sink and fetch another water from the fridge, taking it with her as she headed for her bedroom.

A glance at her phone told her that her notifications were piling up, but she wasn't in the mood to dig through them yet. She was still extremely pissed that she'd had to cut her vacation short. Even more so, she had eleven missed calls from her ex-boyfriend and her ex-best friend, several voice messages, and texts, all of which would soon be deleted. She wasn't interested in hearing what they had to say. She'd caught them during the act, and it couldn't be explained away like he had all of the other 'misunderstandings' during the course of their relationship. He'd always made her feel like she was the crazy one for questioning his loyalty, that she had trust issues that caused all the drama, but all the while her intuition had been one hundred percent accurate. He was a cheating douchebag.

All of the floors and finishings in her condo were marble, so her bathroom was a clean, modern space with elegant finishes and expensive amenities. Besides a large whirlpool tub, it also boasted a shower stall big enough to hold a half dozen people at once with room to spare. The amount of shower heads inside was ridiculous, and Sofia didn't use half of them, but she did enjoy the large rainfall shower head. She activated the water settings and temperature with voice commands and dropped her towels on the floor before stepping inside. As she'd left the bathroom door open, the room didn't steam as much as it normally would, though the shower stall itself began to fog over slightly.

Sofia ducked beneath the rain head to wash her hair. Her shower routine took surprisingly little time. As all of her unwanted hair had been eradicated with a laser, she didn't have to waste time shaving. Still, she did take the time to exfoliate, soaping up her loofah and scrubbing her body with the peach-scented body wash. Her water was heated at the point of use, so she never had to worry about running out of hot water, allowing her to pamper herself for as long as she liked.

 

[Catalyst]

No sooner had he come to the jarring realization of her presence than did he hear the faint sounds of footsteps directly above his head. "Shhhhhhit!" He screamed in a strained whisper beneath his breath, brow furrowing and showing lines of distress and anger as his nose scrunched up about his face.

His first instinct was to close himself off in the foyer, but he stopped himself just short of grabbing the knobs. No. That was too risky. The foyer door sat at the foot of the stairs and had been left open by default. Any look in this direction at all would expose him immediately, and if she had left it open intentionally, closing it would only serve to potentially raise suspicion. Besides that, if she were to reenter the room, he would not have enough time to silently duck out. He gave a moment's thought to the idea of leaving the apartment entirely and watching for the next time she left herself, but God knows how long that would take. Doing so would only prolong the inevitable, anyway. He had a job to do, and he needed this place to do it...

All of these options and several more had run through his mind in the span of a few short seconds, as he heard the sound of footsteps, like bare feet gently tapping against the marble floors, moving closer to the stairs. Luckily, he was observant enough and had studied the place well enough to take notice of the small hallway that branched off from the Foyer itself. That door had been closed, and so there was no risk in leaving something out of place as he quickly entered and shut it back behind him. From there, he was able to make his way into the laundry room, setting his folder and bag of food atop the washer and dryer units at one side of the room for the time being. Even this space was far too elegant for what it was. It looked as though it were an extension of the kitchen, with much the same marble and granite fixtures, and all sorts of cabinets lining the walls; everything tucked away immaculately. It did, however, provide him a much needed alternative route into the kitchen, and a way for him to crack the two-way swinging door and poke his head around the corner. He peered out and around from behind the double ovens, looking over the dividing countertop just in time to catch the sight of her wrapped in a towel and facing away from him, walking across the spacious living room and toward what he knew to be the Master Bedroom.

The sight of her made it blatantly obvious what was going on - as if he hadn't suspected it, already. She was meant to be out of the country for the next three weeks, and yet there she was, unmistakable in her identity, back far too early. Either he had been given incorrect information, or something had made her return unexpectedly. Either way, a massive wrench had been thrown into his plans, and for that, someone was going to have to pay.

"Fucking IDIOTS." he all but mouthed, making sure he was not overheard, despite how much he wanted to burst out in rage. No amount of anger would do him any good, now, though. Ultimately, he had been left with no choice. There were but hours between now and his targets' meeting. Missing his chance would mean losing out on a great deal of critical intel that he needed in order to ensure that his mission could be carried out fully and successfully. That meant he had only until then to deal with her, one way or the other.

As she disappeared behind the walls of her bedroom, he moved in slowly through the kitchen and into the living room, always taking care to give himself something to duck away behind at a moment's notice. The bedroom door had been left open as well, but as he drew nearer, he heard the faint sound of her feminine voice, followed closely by water beginning to run. He waited cautiously for a few short moments, before surely enough, in the otherwise silent space, he was able to hear the distinct change in the sound of the water, as though it was no longer falling directly onto the marble. He took that as his cue, moving quietly but quickly toward and then into her bedroom. He'd been in this room only once before, surveying it when he first arrived. Internally, he was thankful he had not gotten so greedy as to claim this one as his own, as his own personal belongings would have no doubt ruined the element of surprise that he as of yet still had apparently maintained.

Between the Master bedroom and its bath, he was able to easily hide away in her vastly and unnecessarily extravagant wardrobe. The sheer amount of dresses, outfits, shoes, and accessories had astounded him once before, and the sentiment had not changed now. Still, as he pressed himself up against the shelving on the far wall shared by the bathroom and the wardrobe, he had the perfect vantage point, utilizing the full-wall mirror over the vanities to spot her in the reflection without her being able to do the same.

He had not come this close to ogle her like a piece of meat. And yet, how could he not? Especially during those first few minutes, he had a view that he was sure some people would be just crazy enough to kill for. He hated everything she represented; a culture of old-money rich brats spoiled by their parents and blessed with just enough in the way of personal assets to ensure that they would never have to so much as lift a finger for all the attention they could ever desire. At the surface, though? Fuck was she hot. That delightfully round latin ass and tight curves were exactly what got her where she was today, with millions of followers on Instagram and thousands upon thousands of teenage boys practically throwing money at her with all their might in the hopes that she might just be willing to sell them a private photo, or hell, even say two words to them. God damn, I wonder how much money I could make off of these kind of pictures? he thought to himself, almost laughing at the idea. Shit, most of those kids would probably cream in their jean shorts for half a second standing here.

Realistically, he couldn't say he blamed them. The longer he stood there, eyes fixated on her reflection and watching her lather soap all over herself, letting the hot water rain down over her to wash it all away, he couldn't very well deny the growth that occurred within his own paints. He could feel his dick swelling with warm rushing blood already, straining the fabric of his otherwise well-fitting, tailored Ralph Laurens. Just then, the thought occurred to him; what exactly was stopping him from going and grabbing her right then and there? It was solely the enjoyment he derived from watching her, shamelessly staring her down while she so ignorantly went about herself, that kept him there until the moment she called out to her imaginary automated servant for the water to be shut off.

Like a signal he'd been long awaiting, he snapped out of his trance, and within a moment, he had vanished, hiding himself away and lying in wait for just the right moment.

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

Feeling even more refreshed and more like herself, she dried off and wrapped her hair in a clean, fluffy towel. Standing naked in front of her vanity, she selected a lotion bottle from the dozens in her drawer and rubbed the floral smelling cream into every inch of her smooth, silky skin. She was well aware of the havoc that ultraviolet light could wreak on the skin, so often opted for a spray tan rather than the real thing, but sometimes a girl just needed some sunshine. And after the sun, she paid a bit extra attention to ensure she wouldn't end up with leather skin like the overly bronzed, wrinkled old women with sagging implants that frequented Miami beaches.

Moving into her spacious closet, she opened a particular drawer in her dresser to retrieve a pair of comfortable cotton panties and one of her over-sized pajama shirts. She had fancier underwear in the drawer, and an entire collection of thongs, but as she was alone, she had no one to impress. She wanted to be comfortable, rather than fashionable, and the two rarely crossed paths.

Returning to the steamy bathroom, she removed her towel, worked in a deep conditioner, and combed her hair until all of the tangles were gone. She'd left her hair to dry naturally. Styling and heat treatments were so damaging that she preferred to let it air dry whenever possible. She had no plans to leave her apartment, so didn't need it dried quickly. After examining herself in the mirror, turning to admire the large curve of her perky ass and flat dip of her stomach, she finally walked back into the master bedroom.

Her luggage sat in the corner, waiting to be unpacked, but she wasn't interested in doing any sort of work. No, she wanted to zone out watching television, ignore her phone, and maybe have a snack. Swimming had given her an appetite, so she left her bedroom and made for the kitchen.

"Alexa, turn on Netflix," she called through the house. A tone acknowledged the command and her giant flat screen came to life in the living room. Opening the fridge, she leaned against the door and stared at the newly stocked items while she decided on what she wanted to eat.

 

[Catalyst]

Though he had only a small line of sight out into the bedroom, it was not difficult for him to discern her position. He could hear the sounds of her footsteps, light though they may have been, and could smell the strong scent of her freshly cleansed body and hair as she drew nearer. He caught a glimpse of her as she left the room, her long, toned legs still uncovered below the line of that oversized shirt that hung just slightly lower than the bottom of her ass.

There was no hope for her, now. From the moment he locked his eyes upon her, her fate was sealed. He was far too quiet, far too adept at making himself scarce. He had years of experience with this, now; stalking prey, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Naturally, he had never given his real name to any of his clientele, and seldom gave any name at all, but many of those who knew of his work had given him names of their own. Some likened him to a viper. Slippery, fast, and elusive. His current employer, one of his frequent flyers, knew him as simply "The Fox," for his quiet, nimble feet, even in spite of his size, and his opportunistic methods of tracking down his targets. And so that was the alias he took on. But no matter the moniker by which they chose to address him, his reputation had long spoken for itself. He was not one to be caught, and he certainly was not about to let some rich girl be the first.

The sound of the television coming to life covered up the largest of his steps, and by the time she had opened up the fridge, he was already well within striking distance, crouching behind the island countertop just behind her. The poor, oblivious girl. Even without a weapon of his own, he could have ended her life in a matter of seconds if he so desired, his eyes not neglecting the block of sharp knives upon the countertop beside her. If only it were that simple, he lamented, realizing that he could not kill her. Not yet. Not that way.

His steps were silent as he skulked up behind her, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed with laser focus. And then all at once, he was on her. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against his body and away from the refrigerator. His opposite hand covered her mouth, large enough that he could maintain a strong grip over her entire jaw.

"Ssssshhhhhh shhh shhh shhh shhh." he whispered in her ear. "Don't. Fucking. Move."

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

For a split second, Sofia thought that Brandon had followed her and used his key to surprise her, that he'd hopped on the first plane out after she'd left and chased her across the globe to beg her to take him back. He'd come to tell her what a huge mistake he'd made, how he'd never loved anyone so deeply, and that his fling meant nothing to him. She'd not believe him, of course, but it would have been amusing to toy with his emotions for a bit before having security escort him out.

But the voice in her ear didn't belong to Brandon. Nor did that crushing grip. Confusion quickly turned to panic, and she shrieked behind the hand clamped down on her mouth, fighting against his hold. Her fingernails dug into arm, literally clawing at him, and one of her bare heels came down hard on his instep. She also tried to twist her body to elbow him in the gut. It obviously never occurred to her that he might be a cold-blooded killer that could easily snap her neck. Her feisty attitude wasn't reserved for boyfriend drama and Instagram photos. She was literally fighting for her life, and doing everything she could to break free of the man.

 

[Catalyst]

The scratching and clawing at his arm and the violent writhing of her body within his grasp had been more or less expected. As much as he would have liked for her to stay calm and quiet as he had so advised, he was not so ignorant so as to believe that she would likely do so. For that, he was prepared. Admittedly, though, her well-placed stomp had managed to catch him by surprise, enough to a elicit a stifled, yet obviously pained grunt from within his chest.

"Agh, fuck!"

A normal intruder may have been coaxed by the pain to release her, or at least momentarily distracted enough for her to wriggle herself free. Unfortunately for her, the presence that joined her inside these walls was not merely some ballsy home-invader looking to lift her valuables. She would come to find that out very soon. What she had accomplished, however, was sparking a momentary anger in him, and the tightening of his arm around her and his hand at her jaw would be immediate evidence of that.

He jerked her body to one side, practically sweeping her off of her feet as he leveraged himself on his back foot "God damnit, what the fuck did I just say?!" He grunted out in annoyance. She was so light by comparison. She would have no choice in the matter of where he would take her as he was able to all but drag her back out of the kitchen and into the living area. Struggle though she may, she would certainly not be able to directly overpower him.

"Come on, now!" He warned her, almost mockingly, breathing the words heavily as he strained himself to contain her. "You're only going to make this worse for yourself, darling!"

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

Sofia continued to scream behind his hand, though her muffled cries were clearly not loud enough to carry to another of the well built apartments. As he tightened his grip, she began to find it difficult to breathe with the squeezing pressure about her abdomen. Struggling against those hands as he dragged her to another room, she continued to writhe and squirm, but her efforts were pitiful attempt when compared to his strength. Heart hammering in fear, she finally grew very still, chest heaving as she took deep breaths through her nose. She jerked in his arms again, but the second attempt was only a brief test to see if he'd loosened his hold, and only lasted a few moments as she found herself still trapped.

More muffled noises came from behind his hand, words now rather than screams, though none of them were intelligible enough to be understood. Her fingers curled about his wrist, trying to pull it away from her mouth, but he was far too strong for even that. Now dangling freely several inches above the floor, she sagged in arms and stilled for a second time, this time for a much longer duration.

 

[Catalyst]

The grimace that had plastered itself upon his face in the midst of her struggle faded as he felt her relent little by little in his arms. Even so, he did not ease in the slightest the strength with which he held her. He felt the moment of her surrender, the very instant at which she finally seemed to realize that fighting him would be futile. And God, that was always such a satisfying moment...

If only she could see the faint smirk that had slithered across those lips.

"There, there..." Truth be told, she may well have heard his sense of self-satisfaction, even without seeing it for herself as he mocked comforting her. "See? Now isn't that just sooooo much better?" his whispered words were dripping with sinister intention as his hot breath fell against her neck. "Now, I sincerely hope you would know better than to scream if I take my hand off your mouth, hmm?"

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

"Muuuuuphk ooooo," she said loudly against his hand.

Squirming in his arms again, she tried to remove his hand by force, but gave up rather quickly when he didn't budge. More muffled curses followed the first, though none were discernible. She went completely still once again. Sofia knew that pitting his strength against her own was a mistake and that she'd never win in that fashion. She'd have to outsmart him, she decided. So she feigned compliance and nodded her head meekly in response to his question.

 

[Catalyst]

"Hmph." He let out a single hum of laughter and shook his head from side to side. He didn't need to take his hand away from her lips to understand that. "How charming," he said sarcastically once she had relented to his grasp once more. "Trust me, the feeling is mutual."

He released his grip upon her face, allowing her once more the freedom to speak that she'd no doubt been well accustomed to overusing. What he did not do however was loosen his hold at her waist. In fact, the hand that had only just come off of her mouth slipped immediately downward toward her neck, as though ready to reclaim its grip in an instant, whether at the former or the latter, if need be.

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

She was glaring when she glanced back over her shoulder. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment? Are you one of Brandon's stupid friends? Whatever this is, it isn't funny."

Of course, it occurred to her very briefly that this wasn't a joke and the danger might very well be real, but she couldn't fathom how he'd gotten past security and gained access to her apartment. They had a concierge downstairs for this exact scenario! Not to mention private security that kept an eye on things at night. So how did this loon sneak past the people that were supposed to be protecting her? She was going to have someone's head for this.

"Let me go, you bastard," she snapped. Sofia jerked in his arms again in another act of defiance, trying to free herself from his strong hands.

 

[Catalyst]

"Oh I assure you the only thing I find 'funny' here is that you somehow think you're in control." he chided her. "Besides, I could ask you the same question. You weren't supposed to be here, either. But it looks like someone gave me the wrong information."

Brandon was a name he vaguely recognized, if only from his and his informants' investigation into Sofia and her contacts in the process of vetting this place for use. He hadn't bothered to pay any special attention to who he was, of course, but from what he recalled, it wasn't entirely difficult to deduce. Who he was made no difference, anyway. All that mattered to him was that he not be prevented from doing the job he had been hired to do; not by her, or by anything or anyone else. He would not be caught by surprise again.

Her sudden movement only caused him to squeeze her tighter. Quite the feisty bitch, aren't you? he scoffed to himself. "And tell me, sweetheart, just why would I do that? The way I see it, you're better off right where you are."

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

"It's my apartment. I'm here whenever the hell I feel like it." She frowned, remembering why she'd come home early in the first place. Fucking Brandon. Finding his hold uncomfortable as he squeezed her even harder, she squirmed in his arms but could get no leverage. She was breathing heavily when she stopped, though not deeply. He was holding her far too tightly to draw in a deep breath.

"Let me go... please? If you're here for money, you can have whatever is in my purse. If you want drugs, I've got prescription pain killers in the cabinet. The good shit. Okay? Just let me go, and you can have whatever you like. I won't even call the cops. Promise."

 

[Catalyst]

One eyebrow cocked into a sort of intrigued arch, and a wicked grin worked its way back across his lips. "Theeeere we go. Now that's what I like to hear." He halfway tested her with his prodding words. "Much better..."

Slowly, he lowered his arm away from her throat and upper chest, though for the moment he kept his other firmly about her waist. He began to walk slowly backward with her still under his control, dragging her along back further into the living room. "I'm going to let you go now, and we're going to have a little chat, okay?" he questioned her, his tone slick and sinister. "It's just you and me, here, now, doll. But you try anything stupid..." as the last words slipped from his lips, his voice grew slightly darker, conveying the seriousness of his final message. "...and I will NOT hesitate to kill you..."

He spun her around as he released her from his grasp, all but forcing her away from him and down onto the couch with a hand pushing at her chest. He was comfortable giving her the momentary semblance of physical freedom because he was well aware of the upper hand he now had. Even if she dared to make any sudden movements, he was confident in his ability to contain her. One way, or the other.

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

She landed on the couch with a bounce, staring up at him with a hint of fear in her dark eyes. Kill her? She'd assumed he was some druggie come to steal from her. But a killer? That just didn't happen to people like her in places like this. Immediately curling her legs beneath her, she scrambled away from him, fingers digging into the cushions of the massive sectional. Her eyes darted toward the wall that opened onto the lower level balcony, but there was no escape there. She'd have to either leave through the front door or somehow make it upstairs to the emergency exit on the level above. Her eyes returned to his as she scooted away.

"W-what.... what are you doing here?" she asked fearfully. "How did you get in? I'm expecting people to visit, you know. You should probably leave now before they find you here." It was a bluff, of course. She'd already had her food delivery and didn't expect any visitors. No one except her friend knew she'd returned. Well, and Brandon and his slut. They probably guessed where she'd gone.

 

[Catalyst]

His steely eyes studied her closely, scrutinizing her as she cowered into the back of the couch. "Well, you won't be having any visitors if there's no one to let them in, now will you?" he rebuked, unsure as to whether she was telling the truth or not.

"All you need to know about me, my dear, is that I am here on business." he answered vaguely. "Business of an extremely delicate and time-sensitive nature, and your little slice of paradise here just so happens to be the perfect location from which to conduct it." he gestured about him with his arms around the apartment. "Only you were not supposed to be here. You were supposed to be off playing tourist with your little friends."

He approached her with a pair of short steps. "But now you're here. For some fucking reason! But so am I...and I've still got plenty of business to tend to. So...it looks like we're going to have to find a way to remedy this little problem, hmm?" he stared her down as he spoke.

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

Sofia backed away from him until she was pressed into the corner of the sofa. Scrambling to her feet, she perched on the back, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. A shift of her hips, and she'd be able to scramble over the couch and make a run for the door. As he spoke, she studied him and found him surprisingly handsome, though there was something dangerous in his gaze. He's a predator, she realized, mouth going a bit dry.

"Then have the apartment. Stay here all you like. I'll leave, and I won't tell a soul. I can go back overseas, pretend I never saw you, and can stay away for as long as you need." It was a bit of a frantic, last ditch attempt to mollify him, but she knew her ideas were very thin. He'll never believe it.

In the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder why her apartment was so important to his business. Was he doing some shady deal with someone else in her building? And if so, why wasn't he staying with them? She threw a glance over her shoulder to the kitchen and front door behind her, trying to gauge how quickly she could run across the space and whether he'd be able to grab her.

 

[Catalyst]

He scoffed aloud, almost chuckling at her silly notion. "No, no, no. See, it's much too late for that, now. You've already seen my face. You know exactly where I am, and I can't go anywhere. I let you walk out, and all of a sudden I have one big five foot something, living, breathing loose end just roaming free. Then I have to spend every day and every night watching my own ass. I have to do that, and the quality of my work suffers, and I definitely can't have that! I take pride in my work!"

"Of course, I could trust you, believe that you wouldn't breathe a word to anyone about what...about who you saw here today." his eyes flitted up and down from her face to her body. "But then, in my experience, at least...putting your trust in other people...well, it doesn't usually work out all that well." he squinted his eyes toward her, shaking his head sarcastically. "People aaalllways tend to have a way of disappointing you, don't ya think?"

The little movement of her head as she looked back betrayed her. He was watching her like a hawk, as though he fully expected her to make a break for it at any moment. "Go ahead, try it." he challenged her. "Make my choice that much easier...I dare you."

 

[ShadowOfDesire]

She shrank into herself, seeming much smaller than before, shoulders slumped as he taunted her. Her lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure as she glanced back to his face, nose wrinkling slightly as she considered her options. Chin tipping upward, she frowned at him. "You left the refrigerator door open," she pointed out. "That's a waste of electricity. And I'm five foot seven, if you must know. Models are always tall."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You! You've been using my hot tub, haven't you! You were the one that left it a mess. I don't like messes."

She scowled. "Just how long are you planning to stay here, anyhow? I mean, if I have to put you with you, I want to know how long it's going to be. A week? Two? Surely not a month. I would have been back by then."

 

[Catalyst]

"Hmph. Sweetheart, I don't give a good God damn if you're five-foot-seven or five-foot-fifteen! All that matters to me is at the moment, you've got two lips and a tongue, and now, you're a witness."

Of course...she doesn't really HAVE to have a tongue, does she? After all, these pretty-girl types are better off when they keep their mouths shut, anyways.

"I have been!" he confirmed, feigning enthusiasm. "And I must say, its quite lovely! If I were you, I'd be out there at every damn chance I got. I don't much mind the mess, myself. Gives it that nice, lived-in feel." He taunted her. "I'm sure you can afford a little extra on your light bill. I've seen what you do, and I damn sure know who your parents are. Everyone knows that." If it wasn't already obvious that he had done his fair share of research on her, it would have become clear rather quickly.

"Job's supposed to have me here for three weeks. Maybe a little more. Maybe a little less. I was planning on enjoying myself as long as I could, but since you're already here, well...looks like I don't have to worry about getting out too quickly." he shrugged.

His line of sight flitted briefly over to the fridge. "Well go on." he suggested, a smug undertone carried along in his voice. "Go close it, if it's bothering you so much."