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Maybe it’s strange, but I think about Rachael. We never had anything like that. No looks or inside jokes or chemistry. No… vibe. Is that the word? I saved her and her boy, and I tricked myself into thinking that was love. It’s good that she left, that she’s safe. Now I can see it. I’ve never been in love. Maybe I never will be.

I thought the same about Maksim once. But if that grim bastard can…

My thoughts are interrupted by an alert from my phone. This room is soundproofed, so the ding is loud even over the thumping music. It doesn’t stop the room from shaking, though.

It’s from Iris. I smirk, resisting the urge to go to the window. Maybe I could narrow it down by a process of elimination. But this has to be sacred. This information pipeline is the true business.

Iris: I have some really sketchy guy admitting to stalking his ex. He’s bragging to his buddy about bugging her house too.

X: Nice work. Get his full name and a photo if you can.

Iris: I’ve already got all his info from his driver’s license. I can send it over. What’s this worth to ya, then?

X: You’ll get fair payment in the agreed way. But if you give me your unwavering, over-the-top, undying praise for my fancy stickers and having a scary man patrol the VIP section, you might get a bonus.

Iris: Keep dreaming, boss. I’m going to get the name of his girlfriend too. What are you going to do with this?

She attaches the details.

X: That’s above your paygrade, Iris.

Iris: I’m just saying I don’t condone any, you know, ‘I know this so you better give me this’ situation. But if that’s what this is, in this case, I think I can make an exception.

So, she has a moral code, one she walks loosely. Just like Maksim. Just like everyone in our world. Just like me.

Iris: Maybe that’s how I’ll play this. Only give you stuff I’m comfortable with.

X: You might make less money that way. Don’t you need all the cash you can get so you can open a club of your own and show me how it’s done?

Iris: Do you always text your special women this much?

X: Firstly, don’t call them that. It makes me sound like a fucking crackpot. And secondly, no, I don’t. But they don’t usually send me a complaint their first night on the job.

Iris: For the record. One day, I will open my own club. And I’ll have two scary looking bouncers. And maybe even some not so scary ones too.

I send a string of laughing emojis, which I’ve never done before in my life. It’s even funnier when Iris calls me on it.

Iris: The big bad boss, using that many emojis? I was shocked enough when you sent one.

X: Don’t make me start guessing which of my VIP girls you are, Iris.

Iris: You’d never get it. I’m too different. And anyway, that’s not part of the deal. I’ve been thinking about this. It’s better if you don’t know. That way, even if somebody hurts you, you can’t tell. Even Celeste doesn’t know why/what info she’s giving out the payments for from what I understand. It’s a solid chain… unless someone purposefully breaks it.

I smile, nodding. She’s right. She’s on the money.

X: I’m glad you can appreciate my creation.

She sends an eye-roll emoji.

Iris: How do you like that one? Anyway, I’ll get to work on the mission.

I swallow, fighting an urge. She’s given me enough information that I could identify her. A man bragging about stalking to his friend, so two males sitting together. I want to know who this intelligent, brave, capable woman is.

But that would break the chain.

I type.

X: In the future, don’t give me any information until you’ve gathered it all and the customers aren’t still here. That will make it easier for me not to…