The Break In

The AeroTransport lifts away, its engines fading into the dark like a door closing. The night over the estate is unnaturally still; the jungle hum that usually softens the silence has gone missing. I step down onto the stone patio, heels clicking beside the pool’s blue reflection. Perfect Isolation. Miles away from anything.

The back door stands open.

A single strip of light from the kitchen cuts across the terrace—Who could be here?. I look back at the transport but its miles away by now. I try to recall it, to call security, My wrist comm blinks red. No signal.

A second blink—then nothing.

The line must be dead.

I move inside, slow, careful. The air smells wrong. Dust and perfume, yes—but underneath, metal and ozone, the scent of freshly spliced cable. A faint crackle comes from the comm wall, gutted wires hanging like nerves. My perfect house, violated.

“Don’t bother,” a voice says.

She’s leaning against the marble island, casual as a cat that owns the room.

Dark hair, olive skin. Sleek and athletic body. She’s dressed in a tight black tank top, matching athletic shorts that hug her hips, and heavy combat boots that look out of place on my polished tile. Much of her body is on display, sleek and toned, the kind of strength that comes from repetition and purpose. Every muscle moves like it’s remembering a fight.

“Hello, sweetheart” she says in a mocking tone as I see fills her glass with more of my top shelf liquor. “I'm Dhal, Tim sent me over to make some changes. ”

I **** authority into my voice. “You’re trespassing. Do you have any idea whose property this—”

“And what do you think your going to do about it?”

The words hit like a slap. I take a step forward, then stop when she moves—barely a shift of weight, but enough to make the air crackle. The distance between us is small, and suddenly I’m aware of my breathing, the thin fabric of my blouse rising and falling against skin that feels too alive.

“You think you can frighten me?” I manage.

She closes the distance in two steps, close enough that I can feel the heat on her skin, the faint tang of sweat. She leans in to whisper in my ear. “I don’t have to sweetheart. You’re already frightened.” Her voice drops, almost a whisper.

I should back away, call for help, something. Instead, I’m frozen. My reflection stares back from her eyes—wide, uncertain.

“Who are you?”

I try to back away, but her hands move to my lower back and head, a **** embrace as she keeps whispering into my ear.

“Oh you can call me Dhal, I’m Tim’s girl. He kept the demons from ripping me on vesper, another story, got me off planet and took on my debt”

I don't completely understand what she said. Her hands are still holding me close, the heat from our bodies making me start to sweat. As she finishes I can feel her lips kissing my neck, before they nibble on my ear.

She gropes my ass and pulls me in closer, our tits rubbing together.

“Looks like we’re both all worked up, sweetheart,” she says between nibbles. Her breath is hot against my neck, words brushing my skin as she draws back just enough for me to see the small, amused curl of her mouth. “But I’m here on work. Tim’s girl-at-arms—not to play with his whore.” Then she steps back, turns toward the door and boards an Aerotransport that she somehow managed to summon.

The words leave a silence that hums in my ribs long after she’s gone.

Outside, the pool shivers in the wind. When she is finally gone I pour myself a drink. Its not until I am getting ready for bed that I notice. My old clothes are gone. My perfectly manicured and indulgently expensive wardrobe has been replaced.