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Jeremy Handstone. The name on the drivers license waited for Dulce's attention to divert from the cell phone in her hand. She tucked the phone in her pocket and sighed. Long slender pale fingers flipped the card back and forth a couple times before icy blue orbs pinned down to the small photo in the left side. The image was perfect. The slicked back hair, clean shave with a smart grin said he was full of mischief but had it all under control. This was what the allurist had been waiting for. Lips from another world altogether formed into the wicked smirk that was always present when something unthinkable was about to happen. She stuffed it into the leather wallet she had picked up early. Cash, fake insurance cards, credit cards all carrying the same name just in case. She pulled out the most important item she carried. A single Tarot card depicting the three of swords. If it wasn’t for Zodiac and her tarot reading and Liam’s generous revelation of her first name she wouldn’t be standing there. The computer was a huge help as well. She pressed a kiss with her crimson painted lips against the middle of it and tucked it inside the fold of the wallet. She was so pleased she would kiss Jeremy Handstone if she could.

Changeling. The power was a must have and she had it. It was an extreme transformation and would shock her if she had not spent the time to get comfortable with it all several times before hand. The change was smooth as silk on bare cool skin. Dulce visibly lost her 5’9” and was standing at 4' 5". Her tight curves traded in for the male form that stood there nude and much closer to the ground. Her eyes turned dark brown and gone was their original chilling icy blue. Her digits were incredibly thick and short in length. Her arms and her legs would be a challenge if this was a first time but with prior practice she slipped into the suit without incident. The hands smoothed down the designer custom tailored suit and the small shoulders shrugged a bit to get the right feel for what this sharp dressed man was going to wear walking in and to take care of business. A quick spray of Armani cologne and a wave of the arm in the air had the effect complete. It was awesome. She could hear it all in her head. Aerosmith singing 'Dude looks like a Lady' screaming while the confident male strut took motion and carried her right through the Summit Brokerage Firm doors.

Jeremy walked in like he owned the place. Yes, the eyes did their predictable yet annoying double-take as he strutted by. Piss off was the message in his eyes while the **** a** grin he wore grew nice and wide. A wink here and an upward nod there had him quickly dismissed as fitting in with the rest that moved through the lobby making their way from way from one floor and office to another. A quick confident twist of his thick wrist told him he was right on time. He strummed his fingers at his thigh as the steel cage of an elevator carried him upward to the 6th floor. His head bounced to the chorus of the song in his head and he even added a little air guitar to his movements as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened and he shook off the relaxed demeanor and stiffened up. It was all business now. Karma was about to be a ***** in a smart suit.

“Can I help you?” The monotone voice came over the reception desk delivered by a woman that looked like she would be happier if no one approached her.
“Yes.” The voice was odd to her but it came out deep and confident. “I have an appointment with Warren Sutton.”
"Through the doors." She pointed to the secured doors behind her desk and hit the code to have them open.
“Gracias.” He was on in his way in before she could get another word in.

Jeremy looked up and gave the list of offices lining the halls a look. First name to jump out was Abigail Sutton. It should give her reason to pause and feel something but it didn’t. It was like any other name. Likely she had stepped through the very spot Jeremy stood a million times. She wanted to satisfy her curiosity. See if all that she had read about Abigail Sutton was as it appeared to be. He scratched his chin and heard the rustle of cheap nylon rubbing against a far more expensive skirt.

“I cant believe she is gone either.” A slow look upward found a rather buxom and toned brunette shy of 30 years looking at him with a large cardboard box in her hands. “Doesn’t surprise me though that he would be clearing her office. You would think the ******** is happier now that she is dead than when she was born.”
“Really now?” He kept his eyes on the curves a little longer before tip toeing his focus up to her face.
“Sorry.” The woman shifted the box in her hands and sighed. “Obviously I am on my way out so I care less what that Mr. Sutton or his colleagues think.”
“Sounds like he is a winner.” Jeremy chuckled with a smirk knowing he was about to deliver the big guy an attitude adjustment that would sit with him for a very long time.
“You kidding me?” the brunette looked more disgusted as she looked towards the mans office door and nodded. “Whatever happened to Abigail should have happened to him instead. I need to get out of here before I say anymore.”

Jeremy shrugged as he watched the female disappear into the elevator. A slow growl exited his lips as another female walked by. That of course got him the ‘curl up and die’ look. He laughed and made his way into the office of none other than Warren D. Sutton. The heavy door was nothing to move as he opened it and slipped inside allowing it to clink closed behind him.

Quickly dark eyes scanned around at the obvious trimmings and décor of a successful real estate broker. Jeremy’s lip curled in disgust as he hopped up and took his place in the chair closest to the door. He didn’t care what was surrounding him. No curiosity in the least. This was planned and there was no time for getting more involved other than taking care of what needed to be done. The click of the door opening sounded and Jeremy gave a slow crack of his joined hands to loosen up his semi-knotted knuckles. A distinguished looking man with a recent bronze spray for the artificial yet healthy look came breezing through as the door shut behind him. Thin lips that sported the grin identical to Dulce’s mouthed the word ‘showtime’ as the door clicked shut.

Warren Sutton moved around to the chair in front of his desk. His lean tall frame stretched just enough that he could reach for the receiver of the phone on his desk. Using his index finger he pushed at the keypad. His free hand moved to press firmly at his left temple. When a connection was made his hand quickly dropped to his hip, kicking back his suit jacket to rest behind his wrist. With a tightening of the digits he gripped firmly at that place just above his belt that men usually held on to when they were about to deliver word on something more important than the average greeting. Facing the wall behind his desk his voice quickly filled the room as he spoke.

Jeremy watched the back of the man with dark eyes as he stayed still in the chair unnoticed. There was nothing but bitterness and resentment in the tone of Warren’s voice as he spoke. An ego like Warren's barely fit in the pricey suit he wore so that was no surprise. He had enough money, connections and power to make things happen and even disappear if he really wanted. The law was the noose he used when all else failed his way. It was safe to say he was a white collar thug working it behind a degree and hiding beneath a pretty name that floated over the ocean.
Warren was a heartless human if there was one. He was widowed 10 years back and went through women like he did toilet paper. Being married didn’t deter him. He never wore a wedding band after the third year of marriage. He blamed it on the child his deceased wife brought to the world 24 years ago instead of accepting the solution of a chop job in a back alley office. Warren’s own father suggested the answer to the unsavory problem when he heard that his son’s girlfriend was about to make the family larger.

Warren almost showed promise when he manned up and took it all in stride. Fresh out of college and rising in the ranks of the family firm, he took a pen and signed his name on a marriage certificate and made Madeline his wife in the catholic church. Of course it was self-serving. It gave him the family man rep which meant more flesh than ever pinned beneath him on those trips out of town. While he played his favorite games of cat and mouse his wife was the ideal patiently waiting for his return.

When Madeline Sutton, an accomplished artist, wasn’t creating little landscapes on canvas she was preoccupied as any mother-to-be would find herself. Baby showers, moving into their first home and opening her own gallery filled her limited time. Abigail was born seven months later and with her arrival came the truth not too long after. Abigail’s blonde curls and bright blue eyes were living proof to Warren’s suspicions as she grew. Madeline was far more close to his best friend and business partner than he wanted to first believe. While he was making his mark in the real estate world and messing up the sheets of young beauties Madeline was getting the attention she deserved.

Again that wouldn’t matter to Dulce Periculum. She didn’t remember so there wasn’t any pain or grief at what was now unfolding in the office of the CEO of Sutton Brokerage Firm. Warren could toss all there was about Abigail Sutton that was left and incinerate it for all she cared. What was the thorn in her otherwise disinterested side was the demise of Madeline Sutton. During the free time she had searched the couples history a sad story came to light.

The woman chose the wrong man and paid for it for fifteen years. Warren chewed on Madeline's self-esteem, suffocated her with guilt and eventually the woman went mad and died in a locked unit that she never had a chance to get back out of. During all of this research showed that Abigail fought the odds as she grew. She was educated and continuously worked hard trying to win approval she would never get. All the while Warren made sure she never forgot she was her mothers stain on his good family name. Surprisingly Abigail pressed forward through loss and discord in her estranged family. Her grades held her on the honor roles and her GPA opened the doors to the finest education. She was studious and favored constant course load to having any life outside college. Upon graduation from law school she was not offered a place in the family firm. That made sense given the family history that was well kept under wraps.

“Yeah, its me. You sending the papers over? Let’s get this done. I am tired of excuses.” He released his hand at his hip and rested it on the wall next to the window frame closing the fingers to form a less than pleased fist. “I care less what it takes. I want her **** out of the office and I want her erased. You are the one who said it was doable five weeks ago. I would have been better off doing away with all of this long ago. It’s what I get for being a stand up guy.”

Jeremy was pulled from the reflections of what she had learned several months ago of her history after digging deep enough. He scratched the side of his chin and heard all he needed. The man's voice rattled the air with demand and impatience. Stand up guy. What a f******* joke. A soft chuckle now sounded from the chair in the corner next to the office doors. Warren's body turned quickly and his grey eyes landed on Jeremy's dark stare as a small hand fastened the lock on the door. There could be the convenient alarm at the desk but chances were Warren was a confident man and wouldn't use it. He likely underestimated what he was looking at in his office. That and of course what was overheard was questionable.

"Let me call you back. I have something unexpected that just arrived." The receiver went back down to the phone and Warren stared Jeremy down as he approached the desk with a smirk. "Who the f*** are you and who the h*** let you in?"
"You wouldn't believe it if I told you." He put his hand on the desk and flicked at the cigar box as that smirk across his face grew unusually wide. "But I can say the next few minutes is long over due."

Warren Sutton watched the thick digits on the stubby and intruding hand move across his desk to his cigar box. The fact the stunted man with a comparable taste for fine suits was that close to his desk was raising Warren’s already sky high level of frustration. The Monarch Executive desk between their bodies was a work of art in itself comprised of inlaid marquetry that called for over 100,000 individual pieces of exotic woods to finish the piece of furniture. Not even his favorite female was permitted set rear on its surface with thighs wide to greet him. Gray eyes narrowed watching the man flick at the detailed cigar box that ceremoniously sat on top. Neither the box or its contents arrived to the United States on their own accord. Sutton’s Ivy League educated hands opened an over priced Hermes wallet and paid for them then cradled them home in his lap on a private jet. He saw such a bold move by a stranger to his office about as brazen as attempting to reach out and grab his a**. Good way to lose a hand either way. Warren reached his bronzed fingers across the desk and pressed his hand protectively over the cigar box.

“So far I see nothing worth remembering about the last few that have passed.” The small hand left the cigar box and in turn so did Warren’s as he continued to speak. “Time is money. Maybe you know that already?”
“You are a smart man, Mr. Sutton.” Jeremy nodded before his eyes released their temporary fix on Warren’s. “I am glad to see that free pass through the gilded gates of education left you with something besides that framed parchment that gets dusted nightly on your office walls.
“I earned each and every one.” Warren gave that half smirk he wore in several of the photos on his polished shelves in the bookcase. “Got anything on your walls?”
“A man doesn’t need expensive walls or pieces of paper surrounding him to determine his worth.” Jeremy scratched at the side of his chin as he gave a half-interested scan of what surrounded him showing he was not the least impressed at what he saw. “But you are Warren Sutton and you have it all.”
“I think so.” He kicked back the bottom of his suit jacket chuckling and gave his waistband a confirming lift that signaled he was ready to see what the man in front of him was about. “I didn’t catch your name by the way.”

Warren had his sights on the man in the middle of his office as he tugged the material at the front of his pant legs and took claim of his leather Chippendale chair by sitting his body down. Jeremy looked slightly over his shoulder to catch the movement. He wasn’t surprised that the man felt comfortable enough to take a seat. He was clueless what he was dealing with.

“No, you didn’t.” Jeremy confirmed the statement. “It isn’t important who I am. The reason why I am here is.”
“Let’s get down to it then. Time is money and I am not sure you can afford to waste mine.” A light tilt of Warren’s head with the fading smirk said just as much. “Why are you standing in my office?”
“You ruin what doesn’t conform to your whim, Warren.” Jeremy looked upward as his hand lifted to elbow height as if to weigh the empty air above it. “Good for business perhaps when you have the morals of an alley cat and the scruples of a snake.”
“You see that door?” Warren leaned forward and brought his hands over the surface of the desk. He pressed each fingertip to the other as their length stayed stiff and straight palm to palm. “Use it.”
“It isn’t going to be so easy getting rid of me, Sutton.” His shoulders gave a confident shrug as he stared Warren down behind the desk. “Hell, I just got here. Makes no sense to leave before the fun starts.”
“Get the f*** out of my office or I will throw your puney a** out.” Warren was already rising and the chair moved back with him to bump the wall. “Be a smart man and take your circus side act somewhere else.”

Jeremy chuckled and scratched his temple with his fingers then pointed as much as he could with the index finger at Warren.

“I am here to call you out you pretentious and spineless piece of s***. I am going to tell you why first then…” Jeremy produced a smug grin showing he was enjoying all of what he was saying more than anyone really should. “I am going to give you a few reasons why you will never forget why I stepped into this office.”

Warren was around the desk in two long steps and had his hand roughly taking hold of Jeremy's collar. A short arm grabbed the hand on the shirt collar and a loud snap was heard as Warren's eyes fixed to the size of saucers. A predictable low swing and potentially jaw-jarring fist took aim for Jeremy's face as he let go of the misaligned fingers he had hold of. He wasted no time dodging the punch. He went to the side then stepped back in and took hold of Warren by the belt and the left leg and sent him flying back through the air over his prized desk landing head first into his chair against the wall.

"Have a seat and don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be." Jeremy's hands dusted at the front of his shirt as he shook his head looking at Warren. " I will give you a few to collect yourself."

Warren was cradling the set of fingers that were visibly out of place as he finally sat up in his chair. His gray eyes were like daggers cutting the space between he and Jeremy. That gave the underestimated man in the middle of the executive office all the more reason to chuckle as he rolled his thick shoulders back to make him seem even more imposing and prepared for round two. That is when the unmistakable click of a hammer of a gun being pulled back filled the quiet office.

Jeremy jumped leaving the space he stood in empty in the blink of Warren’s fixed eyes. Like a predator on its prey Jeremy was on him with a hand over the hammer of the gun setting the flesh of his thick hand enough inside the small space between the hammer and the firing pin before Warren’s hold could release it and fire the pistol in his hand. Jeremy growled and pulled the gun from the bronze hand and sent it back then crashing forward across Warren’s face. He rolled to the side and gritted his teeth at the annoyance Sutton was being. He had this planned and the man was not following them. Leaving Warren to recover from the hazing of pain that surely made his fingers hurt far less than his face, Jeremy hopped off the desk and took his spot once again in the middle of the room with the weapon in hand.

Quickly thick short fingers went to work like an expert with the S&W 1911. He pointed the muzzle towards the far wall, removed the magazine with the safety off he set one of his thick fingers outside the trigger guard and grasped the rear cocking serrations. He pulled to the rear quickly extracting and sending the rounds from the chamber of the gun. He pocketed the gun and shook his head at Warren.

“You are a fool if you try anything else.”

Warren was unsure what the man was capable of now that his face hurt worse than his fingers. Still not letting his ego fail him, he made a few quick and disgusted tugs of his suit coat and finally spun it off his body and tossed it behind him. He leaned down and reached in his lower cabinet of the desk where the mini cooler was so discreetly hidden per his custom order. The sound of ice cubes clicking together could be heard as he sat back up with a small black monogrammed bar towel holding a round mass likely to be ice inside. Keeping an eye on the man that stood in the same spot he last approached him, Warren wrapped the towel around his fingers and narrowed his eyes as the ice set its therapeutic chill to the swelling spot on his cheek and eye. Settling back in his chair like he was still in control he gave Jeremy a nod towards the chair behind him.

“Have a seat.” He shifted the ice on his hand and held back a wince at the pain that was throbbing beneath his skin. “I will give you five minutes off the books to make your case on why I shouldn’t be having your body sitting in a holding cell for assault, battery theft, trespassing and a whole list of charges that can make you think twice before making any more mistakes. I like to think I am a fair man.”
“I don’t need a seat.” Jeremy was showing no signs of giving up his spot in the middle of the office. “Save the threats, Warren. You have been responsible for enough damage in so many places you likely are still having trouble trying to figure why none of this happened sooner. The whole idea of someone pissed off coming into your office and sending you six feet under seems like something you should have expected long ago. As for fair. That is something you wouldn’t know if it walked up and bit you in the a** while you were wide awake.”
“You have no clue what I know or who I am.” The black bar towel bounced on the top of the desk and the white monogram stitched in the finest black linen was visible. “Careful with the threats. Each one means a little more time being the holding cell ping-pong.”

Warren was not quite sure where he missed crossing paths the man in his office. He would remember it. The man stood out and it was not just his physical stature that made him unique. The attitude he had said balls of steel and then some. Sutton had met many hard as nails personalities in his career but this man was memorable. It was evident the guy was mad and holding Warren responsible. There was also the issue with the man seemed to be amped on something. There was no other way to explain the toss he was given into his chair given their size difference. The distance he traveled through the air and skated over his desk was farther than he could get the guy if the roles were reversed.

“Let’s see what a stand up guy you are.” Jeremy gave his hands a look over then looked Warren in the steely gray eyes. “Ten years ago a woman named Madeline died. Have anything to say about that?”
“If you are trying to come in with a long lost relative story and are trying to cash in you can have your lawyer contact mine. We are through talking.” Warren’s hand was in the process of picking up the receiver to the phone on his desk.
“You hear from Abigail lately?” Jeremy paused and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth catching Warren’s attention with the annoying sound. “Could be messy if she came back around and you were already comfortable with having the firm back in your hands. Can’t imagine a guy like you wanting to give all that up with tears of joy.”

Warren’s hand released the receiver of the phone. His eyes raised up and rested on Jeremy as he sat back looking stunned. Jeremy approached the desk and flipped open the cigar box. Thick fingers reached in and wrapped around the first cigar they touched and pulled it out.

“I am not sure what you are getting at but Madeline and Abigail are dead.” He leaned forward and slammed the lid of the cigar box down.
“You made sure Madeline was.” Jeremy ran the cigar under his nose as if he could appreciate its value by its scent. “You certainly pulled that one off quite well. She really never had a chance.”

The artificial UV bronze that was baked into Warren's complexion looked as if it gradually faded before Jeremy's eyes if that was possible. Thin lips pressed together tight and straight as the fixed grey eyes of the seated man narrowed considerably. The muscles in Warren's lower jaw flexed. Each one slowly repeating their wave of pulsing as he stared Jeremy down at the mention of Abigail's name and the possibility she could come back. While the less than pleased man's body language was a blatant attempt to intimidate Jeremy, it appeared to fail miserably. The lack of success was not unnoticed. Warren had never found it ineffective before. Now his face, hand and ego were collectively taking a bruising at the actions of the elbow-high stranger that was center ring in his office.

The room stayed silent as Jeremy appeared as relaxed as one could ever be while he tucked what he helped himself to in his vest pocket. He locked eyes with Warren as the bold hand that took the expensive cigar gave it a final exaggerated tap to move it down farther with the unusually short digit of his right hand. The moment that it was out of view Jeremy gave Warren a wink as the loss was noted between them.

“Madeline can’t speak for herself but I imagine that was your motive among other things." The confident eyes broke the locked gaze with Warren and took another slow sweep of what surrounded him. Awards, plaques and certificates lined the walls and his expression showed he was anything but impressed. “It had to be a bitter pill to swallow. Working side by side and building the company and every night you left the parking lot you went off to whatever bimbo could tolerate your loser a** and your life long best friend and business partner drove straight up your opulent driveway and took care of your wife. He was a good man. You can’t deny that. He appreciated what you never did. Of course you thanked him by ruining him for loving your wife more than you ever had. Then you did the same to Madeline. Why should they be happy when you couldn’t?”

Warren was not a stupid man even when he was being insulted. He was more than receptive to what the short and mouthy man had to say. It gave him a clear idea what he was up against and how to effectively deal with the fun-size man with the kung-fu grip. The more the man revealed the more he knew how much of a threat he would be.

“Your ego may have gave you reason to believe you had it all under control but really throws things into perspective when Abigail arrives and she wasn't your kid.” Jeremy watched Warren while what he said sank in.

“Happens all the time.” Warren stretched slightly in his chair and looked more relaxed as his mind spun with confidence. “Its been said you can never trust something that bleeds for more than fives days and lives. My wife fit that description. Should have left her out by the bleachers after homecoming after I had her the first time. Partner was a great guy alright. He loved my left overs. If I were him I would have drank myself into oblivion too.”

Jeremy cocked his head to the right and felt the disdain grow for the man behind the desk. What came out of Warren’s mouth really was no surprise. Everything found in the research said he was a piece of work and was never one to apologize for it.

“Time is ticking. If you came to hurt my feelings or make me feel like **** over the sins of others then you wasted your time. I doubt that is it or my finger wouldn’t be dislocated. I am curious. What did you really come here for?”

“You.” Warren didn’t have a chance to move back before the overpriced high end executive desk moved like a Frisbee through the air opening the space between him and the man who threw it. “It’s been a long time coming.”