"He better not say a damn word about any of th-"

"He won't," Memphis cut him off sharply.

Mr. De la Porta walked towards Memphis and placed his hand on her shoulder, gripping tightly. Memphis tensed and could feel a bruise forming on her shoulder from the billionaire's touch. De la Porta brushed the hair off the back of her neck and shivers ran down her spine.

"He better not," De la Porta repeated. "You know what happens if he does."

She whipped around smacking his hand away.

"He won't."

De la Porta walked towards the door of Memphis's apartment, pausing and running his hand along the peeling paint as she sat down at the small round wooden table separating her kitchen from a small living area.

She could feel De la Porta's eyes on her, and she did her best to steady her breathing. He picked up his briefcase and gripped the rusted doorhandle tightly. His face was firm but something behind his eyes made Memphis suppress a shiver.

"I own this town," he started. "Now I own you. And under no circumstances will I being going down for this if one of you fucks it up."

The door slammed shut behind him and Memphis jumped. She let out a shaky sigh and tugged at the sleeves of her leather jacket as tears began to trickle slowly down her face. She could feel the phantom grip of his hand still on her shoulder.

She stood up and walked over to the sink where she gripped the counter until her knuckles turned white.

Memphis had met De la Porta for the first time six years ago when she ran out of money the first time. She was working as a part-time caterer for some company she had found paying minimum wage and they were serving at some fancy gala.

Her landlord had already left her three notices, but what she made serving hors oeuvres to Midlands wealthiest was nowhere near what she needed to keep her in her apartment.

She had passed by this table that clearly had people with cash to burn sitting carelessly around it. She set down a platter of champagne and could feel the eyes of one of the men on her. She put on her best smile and turned to hand him a glass.

He smiled back before returning to conversation with his peers, and Memphis bent down to fake tying her shoe. She had kicked over his briefcase when she first walked over and was able to easily pocket the man's wallet before grabbing her tray and returning to the kitchen to get more refreshments.

A week later, there was a knock on her door.

She was surprised to see the same man standing in front of her when she opened it. He held out his hand and she looked at him quizzically.

"I believe you have something of mine."

She felt her hands begin to shake, but kept her voice steady.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" She replied. He smiled.

"I don't worry about things as small as a lost wallet," he continued, "but I have something coming up that I need some help with, and I must say, you've impressed me."

He stepped inside, pushing past Memphis. She did not recognize him, but the man spoke with an air of such importance that she cowered in his presence. No one that knew Memphis would say that she would ever be one to cower in someone's presence. Usually, she was the one who forced others to cower.

"Look, I don't know who you are but I do-" she started before the man cut her off.

"I know you took my wallet," he said. "I have... friends who help me with this sort of thing. But I need your help and-"

The man glanced around the apartment which was in near shambles.

"-and maybe I can help you too," he concluded.

Memphis kept silent. There was no doubt she could use any financial help that she could get, but something about the man set her on edge. He took a step towards her, and she backed towards the table.

The man put one hand on the table next to her and leaned in so close that Memphis was sure he could feel her shaking.

"I've got a job for you."

Against her better judgement, Memphis had agreed, and she was confident that she would spend the rest of her life regretting the decision.

She learned the man's name was Berkley De la Porta. A local billionaire, but apparently money couldn't buy him everything. He assembled five groups of people with one common denominator: Memphis.

Over the next few years, Memphis traveled further outside of Midlands than she had ever been. Her brother texted her nearly everyday, but the truth was that she was rarely if ever in the state.

She spent months in cities she had never been to pull off these plans that Mr. De la Porta had mentioned. Plans that she would give anything to not be a part of.

Mr. De la Porta, for reasons beyond Memphis's knowledge, was obsessed with this painter named Berthe Morisot, but her paintings were kept under lock and key in galleries around the country. Memphis, along with other criminals that Mr. De la Porta has scrounged up, planned heists to break in and steal as many of these works as possible.

None of the other people in the groups were ever the same, but Memphis found herself over and over being roped into these crimes. She had a hunch as to why.

"Well done," De la Porta said handing Memphis a glass of wine.

She sat down in one of the lounge chairs in what she could only assume was the less used of his many properties. But still, a home she could never in her imagination hope to afford.

She lifted the glass in a toasting manner before taking a sip.

"You've never seen my home before have you?" He continued.

Memphis shook her head and glanced around before replying, "It's not exactly in the job description now is it. Find paintings, steal them, and pay rent with what's leftover."

He shook his head while smiling and poured himself a glass. Memphis had finished the second of the heists she had pulled off for him just a week ago when she received the message that he requested her presence.

He sat down in a chair next to her and the two sat in silence for a moment.

"You know, I really appreciate your help with all of this. It's run smoother than I could have imagined."

Memphis wasn't sure if this was true. She had heard on the news that there was an ongoing FBI case connecting the two robberies that was being run by some fed named Burke. She was uncomfortable in this environment too. Her family hadn't been poor, but they hadn't had anything handed to them either.

She shrugged her shoulder in response. She hadn't starved or been short on rent in the past years, and that was really her only goal.

De la Porta leaned forward, putting his hand on Memphis's knee, and she felt her blood run cold.

"I'd like to say thank you."

Memphis stood up quickly and placed her wine glass on the counter. She chuckled slightly to conceal her heart's racing.

"The pay is more than I could ask for," she said. "That's all the thanks I need."

He stood up and walked up behind her, setting down his own glass on the counter. Memphis could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He made a swift movement to step aside, but De la Porta grabbed her arm and pushed her forwards onto the counter.

Memphis felt his lips on the back of her neck and she inhaled sharply. For a brief moment, she thought about what her life could look like in a mansion just like this.

She was snapped out of this delusion quickly by the ringing of her phone. It was her brother.

She pushed De la Porta aside and stepped into the hallway to answer doing her best to disguise the shaking in her voice.

"Memphis, mom wants you to come home," a  fifteen year old Poe whined over the phone. She blinked back tears looking out the window to the Oregon forest skyline.

"Tell her I'm busy," she said more softly than Poe was used to hearing from her. "Maybe dinner next weekend."

She heard Poe sigh on the line. They both knew she would not be home then.

"Yeah, sure. I'll tell her."

The line clicked off and Memphis was aware of the figure of De la Porta standing in the doorway. He did that a lot.

"You wanna tell me who that was?" He said in a sterner tone than she had been expecting.

"No one," she replied. "My brother."

De la Porta inhaled and stepped into the room until he was inches away from Memphis.

"He doesn't know about," he waved his hand around, "any of this, does he?"

Memphis shook her head. She wasn't exactly sure what she had fallen into, but one thing she knew was that it was dangerous. She wanted her family as far away from it as possible. She made the decision to cut as much contact as possible for their safety, and thus far had done well in keeping her life and her job a secret from them.

Stepping forward to the point where Memphis was forced to step back, De la Porta clicked his tongue.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Memphis."

Hearing her name from his mouth scared her in a way she didn't know possible.

"I swear they know nothing," she said urgently. "Why would I tell them?"

De la Porta shook his head and grabbing her arm, pulled her back into the other room where she was forced into a chair.

Taking off his suit jacket, he turned back towards her.

"Memphis, if anything goes wrong, I will not be losing everything that I've built," he said. "If anything goes wrong, I will make sure that your family does not live to see your next birthday. Understood?"

Her mouth dry and finding it hard to swallow the lump that had built in her throat, she simply nodded.

"Good," he said stepping toward her and putting his hand under her chin. "I wouldn't want to have to do anything to hurt you."

The next years of Memphis's life had gone by and she could not remember any of them happening. Or perhaps she had deliberately chosen not to.

Even as she watched De la Porta's rental car pull away from her apartment, she was already doing her best to forget what had just taken place. Because she had broken the one promise she made herself when this all started: that no one in her family would be put in harms way.

Memphis wiped her tears as she turned the faucet on and stuck her head under the cold water.

Poe was the good kid. Maybe if he wasn't so damn caring he would have left her well enough alone and they wouldn't be in this mess.

She wished she had a moment alone with him before he left.

A moment to explain that she never meant to hurt anyone.

But for the past six years, Memphis never got what she wanted. And it was up to her to make sure that De la Porta always got what De la Porta wanted.

She just wished that it wasn't up to Poe now too.