Eris walks to her car, annoyed. Caledon insisted on having his delivery made at nine in the morning, which was risky considering the fact that the media has been following Eris for a whole three days. She shook them off by driving like a maniac, but as she walks outside the party store, they're back. They've swarmed around her car with their snappy little cameras and their loud questions.

"Eris? Ms. Diakos! Tell us what you know about the fake drug delivery made from Nyx! Did you plan it out? Sources say you often like to play pranks on cops—"

Eris has her hand over her face. She doesn't want any more pictures. She doesn't need the media following her around. She can't get anything done if they're taking pictures of her in every situation. She had her nails done this morning, and the violent little creatures had their noses pressed to the window the entire appointment.

Eris pushes through the crowd of them, reaching for the door of the Maserati. Their bodies are touching her, the sweat of their skin brushing each other. It's an awful, disgusting situation.

She closes and locks the door to the Maserati. She could put out a formal statement—say she had no intention of selling anything to the cops, and they must've mistaken one of Nyx's dessert deliveries for something suspicious. No one would believe it, but then at least the pictures and the questions would slow down. But Eris couldn't quite justify stopping a city-wide promotion of Nyx. Nyx isn't just the glittering Greek nightclub in the east end anymore—it's the glittering Greek nightclub owned by that sly woman that made a fool of the cops.

Eris pulls out of the lot, not caring if she runs over someone's foot. She could call it luck, but that wasn't exactly it. Brit had been entirely clean, but there was that feeling in her gut, telling her something was wrong. So Eris had given him the fake shipment. Her gut had never been wrong before.

She'd cut out that picture of Adam in the newspaper and taped it to her fridge, but only because he had on this faint sort of smile—like he just couldn't believe she'd caught him before he could catch her. Like he'd developed a little more respect for her after getting upset over the aphrodisiac. Which was maybe a little reasonable.

Eris pulls into Nyx at noon, after a meeting with another dealer, only to find Leonardo leaning against the glass door to the penthouse floor. They shouldn't have let him in.

"You're fogging up my glass," Eris says.

"Cute little game you played with the cops, Eris," Leonardo grinds out.

Eris unlocks the door, heading down the hallway to the penthouse. "I just had that cleaned," she replies.

"Don't you think it's baiting trouble? Don't you think you've gone too far?"

"They just paid me ten thousand dollars for candy hearts, Leo. They're going to cut all funding to me as a suspect."

"And where do you think that funding will go?"

Eris unlocks the door but doesn't step inside. "Not sure. Maybe they'll finally fix the potholes on Century."

"Me, Eris. The other dealers. You've successfully got the cops away from you for a long time, but now they're going to be poking at me."

Eris glances at him. "Sell them some gummy worms."

Leonardo takes a step forward, his breath on Eris' face. He smells of liquor and cigarettes and cheap cologne. "You've fucked us all over."

"Is that so, Leo?" Eris asks, still in the doorway. "Are you realizing how incapable of handling the heat you are? Are you realizing how much you absolutely and utterly need me in this business?"

Leonardo smiles. "Was that the plan? I threw out one too many threats, so you're putting me back in my place?"

That was the reason Eris had concocted the whole fake shipment and had media waiting outside the station. But the fact that Eris had guessed the right buyer came down to sheer gut feeling.

"Chalk it up to good timing," she said.

Leonardo is still smiling. "You know, I've got some guys checking out your boyfriend."

"Nikolas is in the penthouse. If you want to talk to him—"

"Not that boyfriend. The cop. He's with his daughter today. Out in the north end."

Eris did know that Adam was with his daughter, but she didn't know where. She'd loosened her scouts on him as soon as he'd driven away with Daphne.

"I know where Adam is," Eris says.

"I just think it's too easy. The Sergeant in charge of Nyx's case has a daughter—adorable little four-year-old—and you've never exploited that. You had no problem threatening my unborn child, but the bastard cop that's been on your ass for years—you wouldn't dare threaten his kid."

Eris wants to shut the door in his face, but she doesn't. "Well, Leo, threatening the daughter of a cop is slightly different."

"Is it?" Leonardo asks. "I guess we'll see. Because if you don't find a way to get the cops off my back, I'm going to do exactly that."

"Okay," Eris says. "Hope it goes well for you. Are we done?"

"Cute little four-year-old," Leonardo says. "The one you promised just today wouldn't get hurt."

Now Eris' eyes snap to his. She's wearing the four-inch heels today, which means she's nearly Leo's height. She takes a step closer to him, right to his face, and he takes a step back. The door shuts behind Eris.

"You've got boys on me, Leo?"

He's nervous. Could he physically best her? Without a doubt. But that mind scares him, so he's tentative as he says, "Sure do."

Eris watches him for a long, silent moment. Then, "If you're not out of this building in the next minute, you won't receive a single speck of cocaine from Nyx again in your lifetime."

Leo lifts his chin slightly. He doesn't like those outright threats—he wants to keep the hypotheticals, the metaphors. He doesn't like that ultimatum made all the sudden. He says nothing, just turns and leaves. Because it's not worth it.

Eris opens the door and shuts it behind her. She tosses her keys on the counter.

"Who was that?" Nikolas asks from the couch. He's watching TV, his legs up on the coffee table.

"Get your feet off my furniture." Eris opens the fridge, glancing at the picture of Adam.

Nikolas sighs and stands up. He comes up from behind Eris and perches on the counter. "Was it Leo? It sounded like Leo."

"It wasn't anyone, Niky." She turns around, snapping the cap on the bottle of cranberry juice. "I need you to do something for me."

Nikolas narrows his eyes, watching her as she places her hand on his knee. "What kind of thing?" he asks.

"There's two men following me." Eris had seen them, obviously, the tattooed guy at the party store and the tall one in the Mercedes. "I need you to..." Eris gestures with her hands.

"Do what?"

"Get rid of them."

"How, exactly."

"That's not funny, Niky."

"No, really," Nikolas says. "Tell me what you want me to do. You want me to just beat them up? Make them bleed a lot, or just a little? Should I knife them right in the neck? Get them pouring—hell, shooting blood just everywhere—"

Eris thinks she might throw up. She curls her fingers around Nikolas' knee. "Just—" She swallows. "A warning. Don't kill them."

"Right. So you want me to just have them oozing blood, then, like sort of more like a straight stream of it—"

Eris covers her mouth and swallows a heave. Nikolas grins. "So that's a yes? Or—" As Eris turns away to vomit into the sink, Nikolas cuts himself off with a laugh. "Okay, okay. Prissy girl. I'll do it."

Eris snatches the juice off the counter again. After taking a long drink to put everything back where it should be, she throws the rest at Nikolas, who shields his face with a shout.

"Eris! This is a new shirt!" He ducks off the counter, tugging the stained shirt off.

"I told you to stop doing that," Eris says.

Nikolas shakes out the shirt and then gives up. He balls it up and tosses it across the room. "Well that's useless now. Thanks for that."

Eris tosses the empty bottle in the trash. She glances at Nikolas. He has a few tattoos, but there's only one for Eris: an apple over his heart. It's a nod to the apple of discord, which the Greek Goddess Eris allegedly threw at a wedding and started a massive war. Nikolas, who loved mythology growing up, got it without telling Eris. A little red had crept up his neck as he told her it was just a tattoo.

Eris looks over at the shirt, balled up on the floor. "I'll get you a new one."

Nikolas shrugs. He likes that she's looking anyway. "I have four of them. Are you hungry?"

Eris watches him go to her room, where there's a drawer of his clothes. His voice is faint as he shouts back to her, "You want Thai? I'm feeling Thai."

Eris waits by the counter as he pulls the new shirt over his head. "If you go out and do your little task, we'll get Thai when you get back," she says.

Nikolas rolls his eyes to her. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"Tonight."

"Eris," he complains, drawing out her name. "Come on." He steps closer and raises a hand to her face. For a moment, Eris doesn't know if he'll close it around her neck or just brush aside her hair.

He brushes aside her hair. Runs a finger down her side, comes to rest on her waist. "I'll do it tomorrow." He leans in, kisses her jaw, then her neck.

Eris lifts her hands to his arms. He tugs at her skin gently with his teeth. He used to be too aggressive, used to be selfish. Eris taught him better.

"Tonight," Eris says.

He lets out a long sigh, then kisses her on the lips. He's good at it—he doesn't start too strong or shove his tongue down her throat. He brings his other hand around to her back, pulling her closer. "Tomorrow," he mumbles.

Eris lifts her chin to pull away, but instead he just kisses her chin, her throat. "Tonight," she says, curling a piece of his hair around her finger. "I'll be here when you get back."

Nikolas runs a hand down her stomach as he pulls back. "Psychopath," he mumbles. He grabs his jacket from the back of the couch.

Eris watches him leave, settling the penthouse into silence. She calls a reservation in at Nikolas' favourite Thai restaurant and picks out an outfit. He won't be gone long; he never is.

As Eris searches through her jewelry to find a necklace, her deft fingers skip over two diamond earrings. They're her favourite pair—they cost a fortune, but she's never worn them. She bought them for a special circumstance, but nothing ever came along that seemed important enough. She's always felt like she's been saving them.

Eris sighs and puts them on.

When she's ready, Eris goes up to the study and prepares her case for the last lawsuit. She could fight the red light ticket, too, but there's not much of a case for it.

Nikolas shouts from downstairs when he comes back that he's taking a shower. He asks Eris if she wants to join, then sets off into a laughing fit. He's got blood down the side of his face from a punch he took, and Eris guessed as much.

He showers, gets dressed, then comes up to Eris' study. "You look good," he says. "Flashy earrings." He sits down across from her. "You call the Thai place?"

Eris glances at her phone as she stands. Leonardo texted her nothing but a picture. When she opens it, it's a picture of Daphne, getting out Adam's car.

Bastard.

Eris looks at Nikolas. "Yes. For seven-thirty."

Nikolas looks at his watch. "We're late."

"They'll hold it." Eris heads down the stairs and slips on her heels. Nikolas locks the penthouse door.

"Can I drive the Maserati?" Nikolas asks as they head into the parking lot.

"No."

Peter is coming in from the lot, and he nods to Eris as he passes. She looks busy, conflicted, perhaps, in that way only he can tell. Nikolas is grinning at her, saying something with that decipherable look of longing in his eyes. That one that's never left.

Nikolas tries to get into the driver's seat, but Eris elbows him out of the way. He pushes her away and tries again, so she shoves him in the chest. When Nikolas catches her by the waist and lifts her up, she finally lets out that snort of laughter. She twists to face him as he tries to make a break for the driver's seat. He isn't going to win this fight—games or no games—but it's always fun to try. If Eris thinks he's upset about not getting to drive them, she'll lean over a little while they drive and rest her hand on his leg when she's not shifting.

She wins, as always. She gets into the driver's seat and Nikolas gets into the passenger seat, as always. She leans over and curls those pretty fingers around his forearm as she drives. Every time she takes her hand away to shift, Nikolas feels cold. It's a mindless thing for her, but it's more to him.

Nikolas likes Greek the best, but Thai is next. He knows Eris hates spicy food, so he waits for her to complain as she pulls into the lot. She always does, but this time she's quiet. They walk up to the door and get seated without her taking a single crack about it.

"Is there nothing here that won't burn my stomach lining?" she mumbles as she flips through the menu, and finally Nikolas relaxes.

"Ramen," Nikolas offers. "Look, this one has chicken." He points to the picture.

Eris gives him a look. She doesn't eat meat.

Nikolas smiles, closing his menu. "You're an anti-spice vegan in a fake Thai restaurant, Eris. Not sure I can help with that. Just get the chicken ramen. I'll pick your chicken out."

"But the—" Eris cuts herself off.

"The chicken will have touched the Noodles? Can you hear yourself?"

Eris shuts the menu. "Fine." She gets to her feet. She always washes her hands before she eats at restaurants. "Get me a martini, Niky."

Nikolas leans back in his seat to look at the drinks menu. "Yes, boss," he says mindlessly.

Eris makes her way over to the bathroom, down a hallway. Her and Nikolas are in the private seating, because there's always families in the regular seating. She passes by the men's washroom, then takes the corner a little too fast and slams into someone coming the other way. She puts her hands up first, and he catches them to stop her stumble.

"Adam?"

Adam blinks. His hands are still on her arms. "Do you ever take a day off?" he says.

Eris searches his eyes. "I had no clue you were here."

He's silent, still touching her, giving her no answer. His fingers have curled around her wrists, sending little rivers of excitement down her spine.

"Candy hearts," he says finally. "That was cute."

"Did you see the little writing on them? It cost extra."

"You could've lost me my job," he says, as if he hadn't been prepared to put her in jail for life.

Eris smiles, the whites of her teeth gleaming in the low lighting. "That's the business, Adam. It's cutthroat."

"How did you know?"

Her smile wavers. She could tell him something set her off, but perhaps that wasn't any less dangerous than telling him the truth. "A feeling," she replies.

Adam takes his hands away as if he never meant to put them there. "Lost cause," he mutters as he goes to step around her.

Eris reaches out to his chest to stop him. "Adam—"

He looks down at her, waiting. He looks impatient. He's probably here with Sarah, like Eris is here with Nikolas. He probably wants to get away from Eris.

"I—"

He's still waiting, slightly confused. He's never known Eris to stutter like that.

"How's Daphne?"

Adam squints at her. "What?"

"I'm just checking. Is she okay? Is she—you know, all Daphne?"

"What's wrong with you?" Adam asks. Her fingers are still splayed out on his chest, and he worries she can feel his heartbeat stuttering. It's meaningless, but Eris is beautiful, and she elicits that kind of response.

"Nothing. It's just..." She trails off. She glances behind her, over Adam's shoulder, then tugs on his arm and pulls him into the other hallway. It leads to the emergency exit, so Eris stops before they reach the end and turns around to face him.

"Off the record," she says.

"What's going on?"

"Off the record," she repeats.

"Fine, off the record. What's going on?" He doesn't know if she's playing with him, but her expression looks genuine.

"I have buyers who are upset with what I did. They know the police will cut funding for investigating Nyx, and they know that means you're going to be looking elsewhere."

Adam searches her face. He's never heard Eris speak about the business—never heard her say anything remotely incriminating. It's almost as if those words—'I have buyers'—are an admission he never thought he'd hear. Like for the first time, he's realizing Eris really does run a drug trade.

"They're pressuring me into getting the attention of the police again so they can relax," Eris is saying, "threatening me with you—with Daphne."

"My daughter?" Adam's heart skips a beat.

"I know you think I'm the devil reincarnated, Adam, but I don't treat you like everyone else. I haven't touched Daphne, and everybody else in the trade knows that. I might have messed with Sarah, slightly, but—"

"What did you do to Sarah?"

Eris waves her hand. "We've bonded over it. It's fine. The point is, you had it good with me. Daphne had it good with me. Convince supervision to put funding back on me."

"I don't have that kind of power, Eris." He doesn't know why he's being told this.

"I'll give you a lead."

"What kind of threats?"

Eris takes a breath. "They sent me a picture of her today. Getting out of your car."

"They took a picture of my daughter?"

"Convince them to put funding back on me. I'll give you a lead."

Adam searches her eyes. They're a beautiful gray, shining in the light. "I don't have that kind of power. Just tell me who it is."

"I can't."

Adam shakes his head. "You're confessing to me that you run a trade, you're telling me you'll give me a lead to keep my daughter safe, but you won't tell me who's threatening her?"

"I can't out my buyer, Adam. That's a confession that I'm his seller. That's jail for life—"

"You belong in jail for life. Fuck your antics, Eris. Tell me who it is."

Her eyes skip over his. "Just get funding back on me. Or at least stay away from the south end for a little—make them think you're still investigating me."

"Tell me who it is."

Eris considers it. Leonardo doesn't know where Eris has her stores, but he knows when the dealings happen. He could lead Eris into a real trap this time.

"I can't, Adam. I'm taking a risk with this as it is."

"Why? Why tell me there's a problem but refuse to solve it?"

"Because I respect you, Adam. You try so hard to figure out why I act like I do with you, but you come to every conclusion except the simple one: I think you're unique, and I like the way you think. I don't like that you don't think the same of me. Adam—maybe I don't want to be the reason your daughter gets in the middle of this, or maybe I'm just so selfish that I'm using her to get you to like me."

Adam is very still. He'd always thought it was some tactic, some bigger plan. He'd never considered that Eris just had a...thing for him.

"I'm a cop, Eris," is all he says for a moment.

She blinks once, as if she didn't realize what she'd implied.

"I'm a cop," he repeats, "and you sell cocaine to half the city. You're out of your mind to think this is more than that. Tell me who it is, then make a plea to out the airlines. God knows you can talk your way out of a life sentence in court."

Eris watches the overhead light glint in his irises. "I'll wring my own neck before I spend a day in jail. This is the best I can do, and I'm doing it for you. If you want a lead, I'll give it to you."

"This is some trick," Adam concludes. "That's what this is? You think scaring me about my daughter is going to gain you something?"

"I'm promise you, Adam, I'm telling the truth."

"You're a fucking criminal, Eris, and a dirty one at that," Adam hisses back. His face is inches from hers, his breath ruffling her hair a little. "You've spent the entire time I've known you figuring out ways to make me look like a fool. I have no faith in your promise or the idea that you suddenly care about the well-being of my daughter after you drugged me—which I still don't know why—what did you have to gain if not blackmail?"

The keys. That's why Eris did it. She did it for the keys that she hasn't used since. The keys that didn't end up helping her.

"There's more to it, Adam—"

"There's not more to it. You drugged me for a reason. Did you take something from me while it happened? Plan something? Why did you do it?"

Eris' gaze is skipping, on the verge of losing calm. Her voice is soft, her tone deeper than it usually is. She did it, officially, for the keys. But maybe that's not why she did it.

"I think I just wanted to know what it would be like," she whispers. The words catch in her throat.

Adam holds her gaze for a moment before realizing. "Jesus Christ, Eris," he breathes. "You're just a kid. Too smart for your own good."

Eris can feel that sting behind her eyes. She hasn't felt it in years, but she can feel it now. She tells it to leave, to go somewhere far away, but it's not listening.

"You're just a damn kid," he says, his laugh echoing off the walls of the hallway. He shakes his head, stepping around her.

Eris doesn't turn as he leaves. The sting is so strong, so powerful. She's not lying about Daphne, but he doesn't believe her. He doesn't believe her because she's immoral and a liar and a criminal.

Say whatever you want about Eris. That much is true.