The afternoon sun creeps between the tall skyscrapers, warming the street.  

Tobias puffs on his cigarette, the soft scent of sage drifting over on the breeze. "So, Ella, what do you think of murder?" 

"I..." What do I even say to that? "I think it's illegal." I've learned with them not to elaborate too much, to keep my answers short and unopen to probing.  

Preston grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine before he lifts my hand to kiss it. 

"Do you think people who commit murder should be punished?" Tobias takes another drag from his cigarette. 

I swallow hard. There's always a right and wrong answer with Tobias, but the trick is knowing which is which because I think he wants me to answer wrong. "Yes," I say quietly.  

Preston glances down at me, the sun catches in his blond hair. "How do you think they should be punished, sweet Ella?" 

"I think..." I take a breath, my mind tripping over itself as it often does with these two. "I think they should suffer the same fate."  

"Interesting," Tobias says with a grin. 

"Would you murder a murderer, Ella?" Preston asks. 

"No."  

"So, if given the chance," Tobias says, "you'd let a murderer walk free?" 

I frown. "No," I say, dragging the word out this time. Would I? 

"Let me rephrase it; if you knew you could save a hundred people's lives by slitting a single man's throat, would you do it?" 

"If you don't," Preston adds, "those hundred people die." 

"I...I don't know that I could kill someone," I whisper, anxiety making my chest tighten. Part of me thinks they want me to.  

"You'd be a murderer either way, little lamb." Tobias laughs. "The question is, would you want the tangible blood of one man on your hands or just the metaphorical blood of a hundred. What can you stomach?" 

We stop at a crosswalk and Preston pulls me close to his side. "Don't worry, Ella. It's only a question. We wouldn't ask you to murder a serial killer," he smirks. 

"I suppose I would kill him." I pause. "In theory," I add quickly.  

I slight smirk makes its way over Tobias' lips and a shiver works through my body. That fissure of fear winds around me and I swallow.  

"How, in theory, would you take his life?" He glances at me and the sick smile that's settling on his lips makes me anxious. 

I narrow my eyes at him, digging deep for a trace of courage. I've learned with him that he likes fear and manipulation. He thrives on games, they both do. I must try and at least feign strength. "A humane way...in theory." This isn't theory though; it never is with them. They don't ask questions without reason. They don't waste words on pointless conversation.  

"And what exactly is a humane way to murder someone?" 

"In theory, of course," Preston adds. 

We're walking through the middle of Manhattan with people on all sides of us and they're asking me how I would murder someone, smiling as though we're discussing our evening plans. 

I think about it for a second, recalling a documentary I once watched on suicide. The Discovery Channel is full of all kinds of random stuff. "Carbon Monoxide poisoning," I say, making Preston lift a surprised eyebrow. "If I had to die I'd choose it so, that's what I'd use." 

"The lesser of several evils," Preston muses, flicking his eyes over my body.   

Tobias simply laughs. "How thoughtful of you, little lamb. I'll keep that in mind." He winks before picking up his pace and disappearing into a group of businessmen that come flooding out from an office building. 

"Look at all those lost sheep," Preston says. "Toiling away to make someone else rich. Playing grown up in an effort to feel superior." 

Lost sheep, but not wandering little lambs. They may lead boring lives, but they have lives. When Tobias and Preston touch me, kiss me, fuck me, I tell myself I mean something to them, but maybe that's what I need to believe in order to feel better about wanting them. Perhaps it's what I need to come to terms with the dirty desires I have for them—the very lie I need to keep going without feeling soiled and stained. But I know I'm little more to them than a game, an abandoned lamb they picked from the vast flock of the population because I'm alone and helpless, vulnerable to the jaws of the two wolves constantly circling me.  

"You're no longer lost, sweet Ella." Preston pulls me close, smiling as he presses his lips against my temple. It's only a moment before I see Tobias' distinct frame parting the crowd of men. He's talking to an older man in a three-piece suit. He moves closer to us, a charming smile plastered on his beautiful face. This is the mask he wears for the world. This is what everyone else sees: Tobias, the charming, handsome man who has taken over the world with his social media platform.  

The older man smiles at him, drawn into the trap so easily. He sees Tobias’ polished veneer and he buys the lie immediately, but Tobias is a lion parading as a cat. Everything about him is lethal, calculated and, at times, cruel. The way he sees the world is not the way others see it, and he is far removed from your average businessman. I once read that serial killers and businessmen share a lot of personality traits, and I completely believe it. Tobias is somewhere between a god and a genius with a complete lack of moral compass. And Preston...he's right there beside him, the devil's beautiful right- hand man, his partner, his loyal counterpart. His perfect match. At least, I think he is. I wonder if they were always lovers? Business partners? Friends who fuck?  

Tobias and the other man walk several feet ahead of us, talking. Tobias walks to the entrance of Che' Blue and the large glass door swings open as a hostess ushers us inside. The smell of fresh bread and steak fills the air and we snake our way between people chit-chatting in the entrance. Preston tugs gently on my hand and I pause midstride, turning to glance at him. A slow smile works over his mouth.  

"You really are doing amazing, sweet Ella." He brings my hand to his lips and kisses over my knuckles. A strand of his blond hair falls in front of his face and I find myself, as always, mesmerized by him. The hustle and bustle in the atrium of the restaurant fades behind him. All the businessmen and women are nothing more than a blur. "I hope you win," he says and my heart pauses because I can still lose. And what happens if I lose? 

"Preston!" Tobias calls, the commanding tone of his voice snapping Preston's eyes away from me and across the room.  

"Come on," Preston says as he leads me through the crowded room and to the table nestled in the corner. Tobias is standing by the edge of the table, his jaw ticking, his green eyes locked on me. 

Preston pulls out my chair, and as soon as I'm seated, Tobias takes his seat. "Reginald," he says as he picks up his menu, "this is Ella Taylor." 

The man glances at me and grins. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Taylor," he holds out his hand and I reach across the white tablecloth to shake it. "Are you a business partner of Tobias?" 

"She's a consultant," Tobias replies with a smirk. 

"Oh, really?" 

"Yes," Tobias laughs, "I'm nearly tempted to refer to her as my moral compass." One of his brows lifts and he raises his glass of water to his lips. I fidget in my chair and Tobias is watching my every move just like a lion waiting in the African bush, ready to pounce on a wounded gazelle. I wonder if anyone else notices the way he looks at me, studies me? 

"She's come in quite handy," Preston says. 

My heart races and I'm not even sure why. Suddenly, my mouth has gone parched and I reach for my glass, gulping down the cool water. 

"Yes, well," Reginald says, "we could all use a bit of a moral compass in such a cutthroat world, now couldn't we?" 

All of the men laugh and I feel like I'm the odd one out, somehow left out of an inside joke. Feigning a smile, I look at Reginald. He's middle aged with graying hair, a strong jaw and tired, blue eyes. His suit is pristine, expensive. When he grabs his water, his Rolex glints underneath the halogen lights. On the outside he looks like he could belong, as though he could be superior like Tobias and Preston, but he lacks a certain element. A certain darkness that seems to stir within my two men. This man is not a player, no, this man is part of the game and unknowingly so. 

I sit in a daze throughout lunch, picking at my food as I watch the three men interact. I see the way Tobias studies him like a specimen under a microscope. I know Preston is listening, taking in every word and twisting it to fit some mold that will satisfy whatever wicked thing it is they want. Throughout lunch, Tobias and Preston exchange passing glances, silent conversations, and with every second that ticks by, I worry about what today's game will be. And dear Reginald, what piece on the board will you become? 

The waiter comes by to clear the table and I snap back into the moment, pulled from the haze of what ifs and whys that constantly cycle in my head. 

"You barely touched your food," Tobias says as he glances at my plate. 

"I wasn't very hungry." 

He nods and Preston's hand comes to rest on my knee underneath the table. "Don't worry, sweet Ella. It won't be too bad. You'll see." 

Preston's words usually calm me, but those words—won't be too bad—coming from a man like Preston, they serve little comfort. 

Reginald holds out his hand. "It was so nice to meet you, Ella." He smiles before turning to shake Preston's hand and then Tobias'. He walks off, weaving his way through the crowded room before Tobias stands and heads, without a word, toward the front of the restaurant. 

"Fancy a walk in the park?" Preston asks as he loops my hand through his arm.