Jasmine shifted uncomfortably in her office chair, her entire body tense. She rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the lingering tension. The sinking sensation in her stomach didn't dissipate that morning when drew the courage to get dressed and go to work with a mission to find out who was in her home. Earlier that morning she was desperate enough to want to lock herself inside, keep the barricaded front door of the penthouse piled with furniture and hibernate in her home for a very long time so the outside world couldn't surprise or hurt her anymore.

But, that wasn't who she was and drew on her courage to keep fighting and leap over the hurdles that tried to slow her down and break her resolve. She was the most stubborn of all her siblings and held on to that determination to keep fighting and never give up. Control and self-discipline were key to combat all obstacles and she firmly believed to keep moving forward and never look back regardless of how back-breaking the forces fought against her.

The first thing she did that morning was contact the chief of security, Marcus Cunnings, to learn if he and his team found anything usual or suspicious during the time she provided the incident occurred. An hour later she received a follow-up call from Marcus and went down to the Control room to review the surveillance footage.

"What have you found?" She asks him as they shake hands in greeting.

Marcus was a good-looking, tall man, well-built with dark hair. His eyes were a icy blue and the smile gracing his full lips reflected in those vivid eyes. In the past, he worked for a high profile agency as a bodyguard. He had been the chief of security for the last three years and if anyone could find anything, it was him. He was that good and trustworthy.

"Are you certain you had an unwelcome visitor in the penthouse, Ma'am?" His expression was that of doubt as he eyed her wearily.

"Absolutely. Why?" She demanded, staring past him to all the monitors lining the walls. Every corner of each and every hallway in the hotel was angled with cameras. There had to be hundreds.

He clears his throat. "There were no signs of anyone entering your home, Miss St. James. Allow me to show you what my team retrieved."

Jasmine felt as though a cold finger touched her spine as she left for her office.

Whoever was in her bedroom was smart, and covered their tracks. The security footage showed nothing. No one. It was as if she fabricated the whole entire story. Her mind began tripping over the recent events, trying to assemble itself. Something was wrong and at the same time Jasmine felt like she was going out of her mind. How was it possible they couldn't see who breached her home without so much as a clue?

She was exhausted mentally and physically and furthermore, fuming with rage that was barely contained.

Her hands shook as she closed a file and tossed it across the desk, pushed back her chair and stood, walking to the window. The sunlight, she observed, was completely out of place with the dark emotions running through her. It should be dark out, cold, stormy, matching the chill infusing her body.

She sighed and let her forehead rest against the cold glass.

The first signs of September was evident from the colorful leaves turning a beautiful shade right before they dried and weakened before falling to the ground. A breeze often came and went, swaying branches. Clouds sparsely floated in the once pristine blue sky. Although the window was not open, Jasmine could feel a slight chill coated the air, depleting any signs of the warm summer ever existing.

She inhaled great, helping gulps of air to help manage her to breathe. In a city of millions of people, you'd think she could have managed to stumble across one man who made her pulse beat faster other than Cristiano himself. Of all the men she had to dream of, of all the men that existed, he had to come into her life and turn it upside down. She didn't often have trouble sleeping, but for the past few months since he entered her life, she'd tossed and turned until the sheets were a tangled mess. It looked like she had a good tumble with a man with the way she'd been leaving her bed.

And it was all his fault.

This situation was going from bad to worse. She thanked God Zayn was traveling to Scotland for an extended getaway for his birthday with friends. Jasmine tried to keep the relieved look off her face when he revealed his plans as they finished their meal and ended it with dessert and tea. Having him out the way and far from Cristiano was exactly what was called for. She did nothing but encourage the trip.

Zayn was thrown off by her behavior to say the least.

They bickered often, especially when it concerned work. They had very different views on work ethic and responsibility–she was the more ambitious one, the rational one of the two of them and always objected when he wanted to take time off, insisting there was always work to be done. She often used the line 'time off is for losers' which always managed to irritate him. Even when he warned her his cell phone will be shut off for the duration of his trip and didn't want to be bothered, Jasmine didn't even blink. Zayn was surprised at her enthusiasm and had even questioned it. She didn't even fire a single objection of his plans. Suspicion entered his eyes, but she ignored it.

The farther he is away from London and Cristiano the better. It would offer her more time to figure things out and keep him out of Cristiano's clutches. She was sure he was eventually planning to get Zayn. It was just a matter of when.

Dread filled her at the images swimming in her head. If something happened to him. . . Jasmine's hands clenched as sorrow swelled within her. She cut the dark thoughts from her brain. She couldn't deal with more negativity, she shouldn't allow the pit of vulnerability makes its home inside her. She needed to continue to act strong no matter what.

Hopefully with Zayn out of the way, it'll buy her more time to figure out what Cristiano was planning. Sammy was right, the more time they spent in his company the more they may learn. But, right now, Cristiano was the least of her concerns. The intruder was on the top of her list, unless he was behind it of course.

Perhaps she should at least warn her parents. If something were to happen to her, at least they would know. Before her courage failed her, she turned to her desk and dialed her mother. It rang and rang until she picked up.

"Jasmine." Her mothers soft smiling voice greets her.

"Hi mom, how are you? How's dad?"

"We are doing fine, my love. How are you and Zayn? How's Sammy visit? I hope you're both having a good time."

Jasmine hesitated. "Yes, its been interesting to say the least." She replied carefully.

Her mother chuckles. The sound brings a smile to her own lips for the first time that day. She instantly felt better, hearing her mothers voice. Annie St. James was an observer, the critical thinker, and the cautious type. It was so easy to talk to her than her father sometimes. She always listened, never overreacted, and remained calm in the worst situations.

"Jasmine, I'm glad you called because I was planning to do so and inform you and your brother that your father and I are taking a trip to Africa for three weeks. We booked the flight just last night."

"Really?"

"Surprising, I know. We've just been working non-stop and we thought it was a long time in coming and decide to treat ourselves for much needed time off. I had just finished talking to Camelia right before you rang. As you know was wrapping up her honeymoon trip. I mentioned Africa and after a brief talk with her husband, they've decided to join us."

"Wow, this is all so sudden." She replied, not knowing what else to say, gripping the phone tightly against her ear. All she could do was keep her tone carefully neutral.

First Zayn now her parents and sister. After what she learned, she couldn't very well inform her of her dilemma and ruin their plans. She was all alone except for Sammy. There was no other choice but keep her mouth shut and deal with Cristiano and the intruder on her own.

"Will you be alright all alone? Zayn told me about his trip and with your father and I gone, I feel uncomfortable leaving knowing have such a great burden of responsibility on your shoulders and If you needed our assistance, we're clear across the–."

"Wait. Did dad want me to overlook and check in with the business in the States too? It's fine. I mean I think I could juggle it all–"

Maybe she could take her own little getaway and go back to California for a while to escape her problems. Of course she would have to make the necessary arrangements for her assistant Sarah to oversee everyday operations. She was the best replacement to appoint in her place. Sarah had proved to be a great substitute when she had gone away for visits in the past.

"That won't be necessary. As you know your Uncle Duncan and grandfather Victor can clearly handle things here."

Great. She swallowed hard.

Her mother pauses for a moment before continuing. "Jasmine. . .I've had this odd feeling lately. Are you all right? You haven't been checking in like you used to."

Jasmine blinked the tired fog from her eyes and sat up straighter at her mothers concern and keen insight. After almost no sleep last night and her heavy thoughts full of turmoil, she was surprised she could talk.

God, what a mess she'd gotten herself into. Jasmine passed her hand over her face, her fingers shaky with fatigue and nerves.

"I've been a little uptight and consumed with work. . . and Sammy." She answered smoothly, keeping her tone calm and confident.

"Jasmine. Are you sure that's all?" Annie asks her again, not convinced.

Perhaps her mother sensed her uneasiness. Or was it motherly instinct? It was frightening and yet oddly reassuring at the same time.

"I. . ." Jasmine trailed off as the confession began to pass her lips until something stood out in her mind.

She remembered all too well the last time. The extreme measures her parents went to when the threat against her sister came about. Her father forced her and Zayn to keep bodyguards at all times. They followed her all day, everyday which nearly lasted a year and that's the last thing she wanted. She felt like a prisoner and had no privacy whatsoever. It was nauseating to live with and an unwelcome reminder of bad times.

She couldn't do it.

What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. It might not be the right thing to do but she must, in order to shield her family from the realities of her situation. Just a few short months ago, they went through hell and back with Camelia. The last thing they needed was more trouble to deal with. In reality, she wasn't alone. She had Sammy. And for now, that would have to be enough.

"Yes, I'm sure." She lied.

***********

"Arraf! Arrrf!"

"Girl, I wish I can understand you. Here talk to Raysa, she always seems to understand you and your needs. I don't speak dog."

"Arraf!"

As Jasmine opened the door to the penthouse, she was immediately greeted with the sounds of Coco's barking and Sammy's voice. She watches him flick something in the dogs direction and she quickly retrieves it with her teeth and trots away to the center of the living room.

"Look who's back." Sammy gestures to his beloved dog. He was dressed in skinny blue jeans, black shirt, and a gold choker with the Chanel logo–his casual Sammy look.

"What is she doing and what is she on?" Jasmine asked, placing her briefcase on the floor and slipping off her heels watching Coco rocking her body against the mouth one of the ugliest dolls she had ever seen.

"Easy on Raysa baby girl, her mouth can only take so much." Sammy soothingly reprimands. Coco barks in response and humps the mouth of her doll at a faster pace.

He turns to Jasmine. "I had to buy Coco a companion when I'm not home and she couldn't go around humping every expensive pillow she could find in the penthouse. She's a bitch in heat." He explains.

Jasmine scrunched her nose in disgust.

"Of all the names in the world, why Raysa?" She asks, reaching up and pulling the elastic band from her ponytail that held her hair since before sunrise. Running her fingers of one hand through her loosened hair and switching her gaze to her companion.

"I went to college in New York for a year before I transferred back to California. I met an ugly, demented bitch named Raysa. She and her pathetic followers would go around harassing other students on campus, preaching on about sexism. Like she was doing the good work of the Lord, accusing people of being sexist all the damn time as if she was a modern age Mother Theresa. The bitch was only eighteen and barely out of a diaper! In her defense, she called them 'opinions' and in my defense I called her 'an insecure, attention seeking whore with mommy and daddy issues'."

He gestures to the doll.

"I picked up the cheap doll at the Flea Market in the city–she reminded me of her." He says matter-of-factly. "Raysa was also the horniest slut on campus. Her legs spread faster than TMZ. She preferred German's and threw herself on any German guy her evil, beady, little brown eyes spotted. Word has it she was a kneeler, and for that, a group of friends and I nicknamed her Mimi, the notorious New York whore."

Jasmines head tilts to the side, trying to wrap her head around his explanation. "A kneeler. Well, that explains it."

"The only way to entertain a bitch is to be in the company of one." Sammy shrugged, a fond, indulgent smile on his glossy lips as he watches his beloved dog screw Raysa's mouth.

Her eyes swiveled from his figure to the dog and then back to him. Jasmine believed Sammy was enjoying the insult more than his dog was enjoying getting off.

"Anyway, did you find out who the perv was?" He asks, Turning his full attention to her. "I've been watching re-runs of Rocky all day just in case we had another visit from the freak." He demonstrates his moves, throwing a few quick punches in the air.

Right, she thought. Jasmine was sure he was hiding in the penthouse until Vivian Davis checked out. Of course she would never insult his manhood with her thoughts. He'd just have one of his 'bitch fits', as he so fondly calls them.

"The security footage found nothing except us after we finished lunch with Zayn." Jasmine replies, feeling incredibly tired, rubbing her neck and working out the tension. "Isn't that convenient?"

"Seriously? What if you were hallucinating?" He offered, scanning her face. "What if you were seeing, hearing, or feeling something that is not there. Its a false perception that you believed. Are you on any kind of medication? Certain meds can trigger symptoms. You were sleeping after all and you've been really stressed. It could be you heard something and it triggered your deepest fears and you believe someone was in the penthouse."

Jasmine could only shake her head. He was playing doctor on her now, using his newly acquired degree to diagnose her. Great. Just terrific. He's going to have her think she was crazy before he ends his vacation with a bam.

"No Dr. Princeton, I'm not on any medication." She replied sarcastically. "I'm not going crazy. I heard someone running down the hallway. I found my bras and underwear rummaged through. Try explaining that on a hallucination."

"Jesus." He breathed, running a hand over his shocked face. "And here I thought today was going to be sunny with a chance of sprinkles. So the perv was sniffin' your underwear." He remarks, and makes a tsk, tsk sound. "Some mentally disturbed people do that you know. Some creeps just have this obsession with women's panties."

Jasmine closed her eyes at the disgusting image and felt violated all over again. Before she left to work that morning, she made sure all her personal items were sent for dry cleaning. It made her sick to her stomach to think about it. She believed things like that happened in the movies where a wacko breaks into a house and has a sick obsession with women's panties. She couldn't stop the images of a masked man, pulling a fist full of her panties and raising them to his nose, and taking another turn and rubbing them against his groin and jerking off.

It assaulted all her senses like nothing else. And now, thanks to her very vivid imagination, she was going to destroy every bra and panty that was scheduled to arrive from the laundry that evening, and buy a dozen new ones after she took her nap.

"Sleep assured tonight because I will. I've requested for security to closely monitor this entire floor. Hopefully we won't have another unexpected visit." Her smile was tight. "I'm going to take a nap. I had one hell of a night and I can barely keep my eyes open."

"Hey Jazzy? I smell somethin' fishy and it ain't the sardines Coco had for lunch earlier. Remember how we passed out after lunch? Don't you think it's weird? I had a martini, you had some tea while your brother drank champagne. It's like our drinks were spiked with something that knocked us out. Unless I'm pulling ideas outta my ass, I doubt its a coincidence. It's the perfect opportunity for someone to come in and watch you knowing you were out stone cold."

Jasmines eyes widened as the reality of his words settled over her. "That's true and what I don't understand is how they entered. The lock wasn't broken. . . Unless. . ." She trailed off as her mind raced.

The only person who could enter the penthouse and had the same card was Zayn.

"Unless??" Sammy asks, waiting in anticipation, his eyes and ears alert.

"Unless someone stole Zayn's card and swiped it to gain access to the penthouse. His and mine are duplicates."

"Fück. Who the fück would do that?" Sammy was shocked to his core. "That explains how the perv got in, but it doesn't explain why you didn't find anything on camera." He shivers.

"I'm at a loss." She says shaking her head. "I reviewed the footage myself. . .I don't understand any of this."

"Get a hold of your brother. Ask him. Ask him if he felt drowsy after lunch and check if he has his card. Do it now." He insisted. Without waiting, he dives for her bag and sticks his hand deeply inside.

Jasmine couldn't stand any longer and leaned against the arm of the couch feeling winded. Before she could process it her cell phone was in her hands. Quickly she entered her passcode and texted Zayn. They waited in silence. Sammy was biting his fingernails while Jasmine tried to keep her drowsy eyes open and her body from crashing in fatigue.

Her phone dings. He replied. Sammy rushes to her side as she stands and reads the message.

Yeah, as soon as I made it back, I took a much needed nap.

Must have been something in the air.

Or I'm just getting lazier. :)

I checked for my card, its missing. Normally its in my wallet. I must have misplaced it.

Since yours is missing too, just have the front desk issue new ones.