Jasmine stormed up to the receptionist the next morning and abruptly growled, "she in her office, or the gym?"

"Office," the secretary murmured disdainfully.

"Thanks." The chain of Jasmine's purse scraped along the desk as she brushed past.

"She's not busy," the secretary added with a touch of sarcasm, trying her best to hide her smirk. Everyone at the company already knew.

Jasmine marched straight up to Lauren's office, yanked the door open and slammed it back shut.

"Good morning, Jasmine," Lauren greeted casually, not even looking up from her computer monitor.

"Yeah, good morning," she snapped. "Lauren. Why— Why the fuck did you let me fuck your dad the other night!"

"You're shouting."

"I'm sure everybody knows!"

"Oh, don't be silly."

"Oh my God. This— this is humiliating. I can't even believe I came back here. I have to quit. I have to. I'm the whore who slept with the company president on her first week."

"A lot of whores do that."

"You're not helping."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"And I didn't even mean to. I don't know what happened!" She was hysterical. Lauren came from behind her and took her by the shoulders.

"Jasmine, calm down! It's not the end of the world."

"But— but but...Lauren, what the fuck..."

"Calm down." Lauren took her softly by the hand, and let her lips graze her ear as she began to whisper. Lauren pulled her in by the small of her back, and brought her face close enough that Jasmine could feel the short little puffs of air from her petite nose on her skin.

"I need you, Jasmine."

"I cheated on my boyfriend. I'm not that kind of girl," she whined.

"You cheated on him with a billionaire. One of the most powerful men in the world. I think you're allowed a pass for that, right?"

She kissed her softly on the cheek once before standing back to observe Jasmine's reaction. She turned away from her, and averted her gaze.

"No!"

"So what is this about? You feel guilty for hurting your boy's little feelings. He can't even make you cum. You said it."

"I love him."

"Bitch. Fuck love. Get the money first. Then you can buy love later."

"You're so bitter. I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner."

"Will you cut the shit, Jasmine, you're starting to irritate me. I introduced you to people you would've never even dreamed of getting close to. Most girls would be thanking me right now."

"I'm not like those girls."

"Then maybe I misjudged you."

"You did." Jasmine turned around to leave.

"So, is that it. You're just done?"

Jasmine poked her chest out and let out a deep, defiant sigh as she took one giant step forward.

"Don't tell me you're for real." This was the first time Jasmine had ever heard any hint of anxiety in her voice as it trembled. "Where else are you gonna make that kind of money, Jasmine?"

Jasmine shut the door behind, but paused before moving any further.

"That kind of money?" she repeated to herself. She pulled her phone out of her purse and opened her banking app. The amount of zeroes running across the screen almost made her jump out of her skin.

***

Lauren had deposited in her account the kind of money that was inescapable, and Jasmine knew it; a dangerous amount of money that she'd never be allowed to keep and just walk away with. Even if she had paid her that no-strings-attached, it was enough to keep anyone coming back, and that's what Lauren was counting on. It was how she controlled the people around her and made them do things they would've never dream of doing, like what Jasmine did.

Her stomach hurt. Her heart was pounding with a strange mixture of adrenaline and shame. Lauren had injected in her veins an irresistible craving, and she was terrified by the sensation that she wanted more of it. More of Lauren.

No. She couldn't. Michael deserved better. She promised she would do better. She would focus on being the perfect girl for him like she was meant to be.

That's what Jasmine told herself— each and every time she swiped her debit card in one of the stores in the luxury part of the mall.

"We don't accept returns, ma'am," the attendant murmured crassly as Jasmine handed her another dress.

"Perfect. 'Cause I don't plan on returning it," Jasmine snapped back with a fake smile. The attendant rolled her eyes.

"Bitch," Jasmine grumbled. She smiled at herself as she posed in the mirror. This was the best way to spend the money, she reasoned; on herself and on Michael. She was determined to do something special for him.

After spending hours at the mall, Jasmine rushed home to prepare for him. She tidied up the apartment a bit and set candles around the tub before drawing herself a bath. Then she cracked open the bottle of the most expensive cognac she could buy and poured it into a glass. With a delighted grin, she let the first sip touch her lips. She thought about Michael. Tonight would be the night she would reaffirm their love for each other. She settled into the tub and waited for him. Suddenly, one glass became two, and then three.

But, Michael didn't come home.

***

It was close to midnight when Michael finally reached his apartment. On the kitchen counter, he saw the takeout that had been left out in the open. He quietly put everything away before heading towards the bedroom.

"Jasmine? Baby, I'm home," he whispered. The aroma of lavender candles hit his nostrils, He flicked on the lights in the bathroom. The bathtub was lined with them, but the water was all drained. Beside the tub was a half-finished bottle of cognac and a glass.

Michael returned to the bedroom.

"Babe?"

He found Jasmine lying face-down on top of the covers, snoring like a man.

The next morning, Michael couldn't figure out why she wouldn't talk to him. She spent the entire morning routine ignoring his questions and avoiding eye contact.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Nothing.

"Is this about me coming home late from work last night? If so, I'm sorry."

Her cheeks were swollen and her lips were poked out. She bumped past him as she darted out of the bathroom and went to the dresser, hastily tossing on a hoodie and a pair of jeans.

"No work today? Or?"

No response. She grabbed her purse and marched out of the bedroom.

"Baby?"

She shoved her arms through her jacket and put her shoes on.

"Where did you get the money to buy that bottle of cognac?"

She slammed the door in his face.

***

How do you break someone out of jai—

Jasmine was in the city library, dressed in the kind of attire one who was attempting to be inconspicuous and in turn, actually stand out more, but still go unnoticed because no one really cares to look at them anyway. That was Jasmine, creeping about the corridors in her black hoodie with the drawstrings pulled tight and dark sunglasses covering her face. She slid into one of the chairs at the computer lab. and switched to the incognito tab in Google and pensively began typing:

How hard is it to break someone out of jail...

No no no.

Can you really dig your way out of a prison cell...

Noooooo.

Real life prison escapes

None of these would work now. Oh, how about...

Dark web

No, I don't need to know what the 'dark web' is, I want to be taken to it, damnit!

"Fuck," she sighed. "I need a nerd." With that thought, came a light bulb flash.

Without hesitation, she took out her phone and started texting.

"Hey boo," she coyly began.

"Hey baby," he texted back in less than a minute. "Are u ok?"

"Yeah. I need your help with something."

"What is it, honeybear?"

"Um, well, I want to write a book and I need your help researching something."

"You wanna write a book? Where did this come from?"

"Um, I dunno, I just want to. I just have like, stuff, I wanna say."

Michael was slow to reply.

"Well, I'm happy you're finding a way to get your feelings out. You know if you need me, I'm always here to listen."

"I know, baby."

"So what can I help you with?"

"Well, don't be weird about my asking this, I just want what I write to be realistic. How does one go about the business of becoming, say, a professional criminal? Like how does a hacker study to be a hacker? How does a person go about hiring a hitman? How does one even know who to find in order to help them get their foot in the door to the underworld?"

"Whoa."

"Yeah, 'whoa,' it's so mind-boggling. Like I can't Google it, so I'm at a total loss. But clearly there are people out there who know how to do such things."

"Well, first of all, you're not a very good criminal if people can find you just by googling you, Jasmine."

"I guess that's true."

"Maybe the best way to approach this isn't to aim for one-hundred percent accuracy. I think reading a few well-regarded fiction books that broach the same subject matter and emulating some of the logic in your book would make it believable enough for your audience."

"Michael, that's so boring, though."

"Well, what am I supposed to say? 'You should go to the seediest bar in town and go to the shadiest character you find. Yeah, the one who's literally cloaked in shadows. That's the guy you want.'"

She didn't respond. After a few minutes, Michael followed up.

"Um"

"Jasmine?"

"Baby?"

"Don't actually do that."

"Jasmine!"