Samantha was having a crisis, one brought on by vague suspicions and a feeling of impending doom. The forty-seven-year old mother of two was standing outside her husbands’ home office contemplating whether she should go in. Her husband was on one of his frequent ‘work trips’ so the office was empty but the space was meant to be his own private world, a world in which neither her nor her children were allowed to trespass. Years of abiding by that order were making her freeze up and the mental pressure makes her step back from the door to rethink her decisions and examine what brought her here.

For nearly twenty-five years their family had been happy, they’d married young and had two beautiful children soon after. He’d started out working for his father but soon built his own business and when his father retired had purchased that business and merged them together. This meant that while not being mega rich, they lacked for nothing and she could focus on child rearing and being a dutiful housewife. The arrangement had been fine while the kids were still growing but with both of them now living their own lives the house had become quiet and she was left with a lot of time on her hands. Not wanting to wither away like most of the housewives in their gated estate she looked for hobbies and even ventured into sports having been an avid tennis player from before. Her husband was supportive of her newfound choices and pushed her into the local country club where she’d play tennis and practice candle making and gardening as hobbies.

This was all well and good but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was happening with her husband. He’d made more trips in the last year than he had in almost ten years, when she questioned him about this he simply said, “business has become more international dear and no CEO can avoid travel.” This was meant to pacify her and it did for a while but then she started noticing a few other things; hushed phone calls in the middle of the night, locking his office door in the middle of the day and a strange look on his face whenever he came back home from his trips. These concerns she didn’t bring up with her husband but instead hinted them to an old friend a few states over, the women at the club were gossips and if she told them they wouldn’t keep their traps shut.

“He’s cheating,” is what her friend told her after she’d given her all the details. She didn’t want to believe it and argued with her friend for a while but in the end her friend simply said, “if you really want to know then go into his office when he leaves next time.”

And that’s where she was now, not that the decision to come here had been an easy one. She’d already agonized over it for a week now and had even considered abandoning the thought but then her husband had packed his travel case kissed her goodbye and left. The feeling of sleeping in that cold bed plunged her mind into a nightmare where she saw her husband rolling around in the sheets with a young red headed woman. When she woke up she realized that the woman in her dream was a younger version of her, this realization made it clear that her subconscious wouldn’t let her rest until she opened that door.

The door knob feels heavy in her hand as she twists it around subconsciously hoping that the door is locked but it swings open smoothly and silently. The inside is decorated in dark wood and leather, the walls covered in book cases filled with books on all sorts of fields and a family photo proudly displayed on the wall. His desk with its computer looms in the center of the room clear of any sort of clutter, an indication of his meticulous nature. Unsure of where to even start with her search Samantha starts by peeking at the files on his tray but a cursory look reveals them to be just boring business reports, the kind he was always looking at.

Seeing that the top of the desk is useless she opens one of the drawers in the desk seeing pens and other random stationery, this repeats itself for the rest of the drawers but just as she feels she’s about to strike out she finds it. Underneath a pile of printing papers is a thumb drive, a normal drive wouldn’t normally be important to her but the position is strange. Despite being a meticulous man her husband was prone to losing things, especially small ones, so to combat this all his thumb drives and SD cards were stored in a bowl on the desk. Feeling as if she’d found something, Samantha sits in front of his computer turning it on and plugging in the drive.

The seconds it takes for the drive to be recognized by the computer spent hoping that it doesn’t have password protection. The computer recognizes the drive and when she clicks to open she’s greeted by a password prompt, seems like her husband wants to protect the contents of the drive from snooping. Clutching her head in frustration, she stares at the screen thinking of all the possible passwords he’d use, multiple examples come to mind like the names and birthdays of their children but for some reason she doesn’t think he’d use them. Just as she’s about to give up and start guessing she stares straight ahead and sees the title of a book straight ahead from her. Her fingers start moving before even she can think it through and type the word ‘Wallace’. The computer freezes for a second before a dialog box pops up showing ‘success’.

The name Wallace is from a side character in the book in front of her and it’s her husband’s favorite despite not having much of a presence in the story. The contents of the drive seem to be arranged in folders with innocuous looking titles but the paranoia in her can’t accept that and she starts opening them up one by one. After almost thirty files opened she realizes that they really are mundane business documents. Feeling tired and upset at having invaded her husband’s privacy she starts closing the files hoping she can erase her tracks and that’s when she notices them, purely out of luck. Four invoices stand out from the rest of the documents, they’re all for the same amount and to the same company. That alone wouldn’t be strange, her husband made frequent payments to the same companies for continuous services, it’s the dates on the invoices that strike her as strange all of them falling on the days of her husband’s trips. The name of the company is one she’s never heard of and she opens a browser window to look it up.

“Imogen Services huh? Nothing but an address.” She says to herself looking at a google maps listing of the company but no website is available and nothing else comes up. After confirming that the logo on the invoice matches what she sees in the browser she clears the history from the word processor and browser and even wipes the file explorer history before taking out the flash drive and shutting off the computer. Making sure to return everything to its prior state she tucks the drive back into its hiding spot.

Outside the office she starts breathing normally again reviewing all that she’d found in her head, which wasn’t much just a strange company that gets paid whenever her husband had travelled in the last few months. The amount wasn’t minor, five thousand dollars each time, which she couldn’t completely come to terms with what would cost that much. All his travelling expenses were taken care of by the company so there wasn’t anything else for him to pay with his own money. The only other thing that she could think of with her paranoia filled mind was that this was an escort agency. This thought brings visions of her husband surrounded by scantily dressed hookers in hotel nightclubs in some foreign countries. Shaking her head to clear away the visions she makes up her mind.

“I’ll just go to this company and ask,” she proclaims resolutely and then goes back into the office to make copies of the invoice before wiping her traces yet again. With copies of the invoice tucked into her purse she climbs into their SUV and drives out of their gated estate waving at her nosy neighbors heading to the address marked on her map. The combination of light traffic and a little more aggressiveness on the throttle she makes it to the street listed on the map in no time at all.

The area appears to be a new development with many new buildings and a few undergoing their finishing touches, other than a few trucks, probably belonging to the contractors, it’s quite empty. Parking in the lot closest to the building on the address she waves at a guard in his stall and he waves back lazily before going back to his phone. The building she heads to is a generic looking office building with a modern glass front that reaches about twenty floors up. The sliding doors open into an expansive lobby with seats and potted plants all over and a front desk with a bank of elevators behind it. She heads to the desk approaching the receptionist with her warmest smile.

“Good afternoon Ma’am. How may we help you today?” the young attractive receptionist asks.

“Hi, I’m looking for a company called Imogen Services, I have some business with them.” She responds trying to act like she belongs.

“That would be on the fifteenth floor, just take the elevators behind there,” she directs pointing towards the elevators. Samantha issues a ‘thank you’ and then heads to the elevators thinking about how easy it was to gain entry, they didn’t even ask for her ID! Unseen by her as soon as the elevator doors close the receptionist picks up the phone and calls someone.

For Samantha the doors open to a wide hallway on the fifteenth floor and at one end is a desk with another receptionist this one seems to be typing something on her computer. Approaching the desk, she puts on her best face before approaching.

“Hello there,” she broaches and the young woman pauses her work to look up.

“How can we help you today Ma’am,” she asks with a neutral look.

“Well, I was hoping to speak with your accounts department about some invoices I found when doing our taxes,” she says presenting one of the invoices hoping she doesn’t get stonewalled. The lady takes the invoice and after scanning over the document her cold blue eyes flash up to Samantha’s face making her think she’s been found out but the receptionists returns it to her.

“Take a seat, someone will be with you shortly.” She says motioning to the seats near the windows before standing up to disappear down the hallway. Watching her leave, she marvels at the young woman’s shapely behind getting a brief vision of her husband’s hands running all over it, squeezing and grabbing it with his face buried in her long neck. She closes her eyes to clear the vision before stumbling into one of the chairs, “come on Sam we’re here to end those visions once and for all.”

“Come with me Ma’am,” the receptionist says from the hallway having come back from wherever she went. Samantha stands up and walks behind her going down an empty hallway with little sounds, they pass a few doors but their closed and appear to made of heavy wood.

“Right here please,” the receptionist stops at a door at the end of the hallway and knocks twice before making to leave. Being left alone Sam takes a deep breath to calm herself and then knocks before pushing the door open. The interior of the office copies the layout of any other corner office with a heavy desk in the center, floor to ceiling window directly opposite the door and tons of empty space with a small couch and coffee table being the only other major additions to the office.

“Hello Mrs. Knight,” a voice from behind the desk calls out to her forcing her out of her reverie. Looking at the desk she now notices a man sat in the chair that previously had been empty, at least to her eyes.

“How do you know my name?” she asks genuinely confused since she hadn’t given it to anyone and nobody had asked for it once the whole time she’d been here.

“You came about your husband’s invoices correct?” he asks in a professional tone motioning for her to sit on the chair in front of the desk and she does without thinking hearing the door close with a muffled sound behind her.

“Umm yes, I thought they were unusual since they’re from his personal account but I didn’t see them in his monthly statement,” she lies coolly pulling the invoices from her purse and placing them on the desk in front of him. Like the secretary before he only glances briefly at each before looking back at her.

“I assure you that these are legitimate, services were offered and payment was received. The only problem I see here is an accounting glitch on your husband’s side.” The man explains calmly and neutrally and then adds, “don’t worry our services are no longer required for your husband so there will be no more payments.”

Samantha mulls this over in her head and before she knows what she’s doing she starts speaking, “What kind of service did my husband get charged twenty thousand dollars for! Was it for an escort! And you’re no longer charging him, did he find a better one?” she blurts out feeling tears in her eyes and a knot in stomach.

“Mrs. Knight please calm down you’re being hysterical,” the man attempts to calm her in his professional sounding voice but she can no longer hear him through the pounding of her heart in her chest and temples.

“Just tell me what you were charging my husband for?” she utters in a quiet voice looking past the man out of the window.

“I can’t tell you that Mrs. Knight, our services are meant to be confidential so unless you were the client I can’t tell you anything.” The man states folding his hands across his chest while leaning back in his chair.

“Then I’ll just call my husband and ask and if you’re blackmailing him I’ll sue you for everything you’ve got,” she says feeling a sense of calm and doom in her heart giving her courage. After saying this she turns quickly heading for the door intending to storm out but when her hand pushes on it she finds it unmoving and even pushing with both hands and all of her weight doesn’t budge it. “Let me out!” she shouts looking back at the man in the chair.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave with that resolution in mind.” The man simply states picking up a document and perusing it ignoring her.

“Let me go! You can’t keep me here! Somebody help me!” she starts to pound on the door trying to get the attention of anybody in the hall but after a while she stops and turns to look at the man. Her hair is disheveled and her hands and legs feel week. Moving to one of the seats in front of the desk she drops on top of it. “What do you want?” she asks dejectedly.

“That’s not the right question Mrs. Knight.” The man says still perusing his document and not really looking at her.

“What’s the right question?” she asks not really having the energy to argue anymore.

Hearing her question, the man finally looks up at her and a smile graces his face for the first time. “The question is what do you want Mrs. Knight?” he asks leaning forward on his desk. Understanding that she no longer has much power over the situation, Samantha chooses to go along with the game.

“I want to know if my husband is cheating on me, if you can tell me that I’ll be satisfied.” She says for the first time really observing the man. He looks young but his eyes seem older than her, everything about him is accurate and precise from his clothes to his hair. If she was younger and not married, he would have caught her attention but she wouldn’t have approached him.

“Really? Would that bring you any satisfaction to know?” he asks placing his hand on his clean shaven chin.

“Yes,” she says steeling herself for what’s about to happen.

“Ok, you husband isn’t cheating on you not technically at least.” He says leaning back in the chair.

“I don’t understand, there’s no in-between with this sort of thing,” she says looking confused.

“Let me explain what our company does in the first place Ma’am, it’ll make understanding your current predicament easier.” He states and then after receiving a slight nod from Sam continues, “Imogen services is a non-traditional organization, we’re registered as an auction house but that’s just for legal reasons. Our actual business is connecting people with what they want, like a broker on the open market except our clients don’t really know what they want until they come to us.” He finishes but Sam just looks even more confused.

“In simple terms Mrs. Knight we’re the genie in the lamp that fulfils our clients most wanted desires, if you desire we can get it for you,” he simplifies smiling down at her.

“For a fee of course,” Sam sneers derisively.

“Our number one priority is our customer’s satisfaction, any money exchanged is just to maintain the cover of a regular business,” he says and then spotting the question she’s about to ask continues, “your husband made the choice to send three extra payments of his own will, we were in the process of having them sent back.”

“So what, if I have a burning desire you guys are gonna do everything you can to make it come true.”

“Yes, you’re finally getting it Mrs. Knight,” he exclaims looking pleased.

“Are you the devil?” she asks staring at him like he’s some sort of freak.

“Close enough but that’s not really the issue here,” he explains leaning back in his chair.

“What’s the issue?” she asks to which he points his finger at her chest with an unsettling smile on his face, “me?”

“Yes, unfortunately your husband made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want you finding any of this out. Our contract says we have to abide by our client’s wishes which means we can’t let you leave with that information.” He explains in a somber voice.

“But you didn’t even tell me anything and I found out about you all on my own, doesn’t that mean he violated something when he left those invoices.” She pleads trying to find an escape, finally realizing that the man in front of her might be capable of erasing her.

“Hmm? That’s a strange way to put it, our contract is only meant to keep the client safe on our side so if he brought suspicion with his actions then the contract is violated,” the man says to himself looking up at the roof which gives her the slightest bit of hope. “The reasoning is a bit light on that one, he definitely deserves some blame for bringing unwanted eyes on us but we still need to protect ourselves so I’ll be taking the stated countermeasures.” He says and stands up suddenly dashing all her hopes as she jumps back to the door watching him approach her slowly and silently.

“Wait! Let’s make our own deal, that way I’m a client and you can ignore this,” she says just as he reaches her and he stops in his tracks his hand right above her neck and his head tilts to the side before he stands up straight again.

“That could work,” he says and walks to the couch patting the spot beside him for her and she approaches still looking skeptically at the man who just a moment ago was about to grab her by the throat.

“How much is this going to cost me?” she asks sitting as far as possible on the small couch.

“I already told you Mrs. Knight, we’re not interested in currency all we want is our customer’s satisfaction. Just relax and tell me what you want and we’ll go from there.” He tells her turning to look at her and smiling his normal smile again.

Samantha looks at him for a few seconds and starts thinking about what to ask that would get her out of this situation already regretting her choice to pursue the matter. Her mind tries to use whatever distraction it can to keep her from thinking of her husband’s confirmed infidelity. “My husband’s desire, that’s what I want.” She finds herself saying and the man looks at her strangely tilting his head to the side.

“Alright, strange request but I’ll acknowledge it. Also you can call me Raph,” he says and then seemingly reading her mind he adds, “yes just like the mutant turtle, I have better control of my temper though so don’t worry.”

“Ok, now tell me what my husband desired.” She asks leaning closer despite her earlier reservations.

“Your husband’s youth was quite restrictive; he didn’t lack for anything but at the same time his parents wrote the script for his entire life when he was a kid and he’s been following it since then. A successful business, a homecoming queen for a wife and two kids in college; all according to plan apparently.” He finishes and Sam takes the moment to ponder about it all wondering for the first time ever whether her husband was really satisfied with his life.

“Don’t worry, you and your children brought great joy to his life,” he says answering her thoughts and he continues not sparing a second, “when his parents passed on and the children left the house he felt that the script controlling his life was finally in his hands and he wandered around aimlessly before coming into contact with us.”