A dark-haired woman stood at the edge of a skyscraper, next to a helipad, scanning the horizon for a helicopter. Her impatient posture and the determined set of her jaw revealed her mood.

The wind whipped around her, making her long hair dance and flutter like a dark banner in the night. The air was thick with the sounds of the city below - the distant hum of cars, honking of horns, and indistinct chatter of people. Despite the cacophony, her focus remained solely on the approaching chopper.

She crossed her arms tightly with a huff as the seconds ticked by, tapping her foot impatiently. It wasn't like her to be kept waiting. Whatever the reason for this delay, it had better be worth it. The woman exuded an air of authority as she shifted her weight, her ice-cold gaze unwavering from the sky above.

Caesar appeared alongside her, ghostly as always, his skin unnaturally smooth, his entirely hairless head not seeming troubled by the ripping cold wind. He stood impassively beside her. Isabella turned her head to him, trying not to reveal how startling his sudden appearance was, refusing to satisfy his desire to catch her off guard. He just waited, not announcing the reason for his appearance.

Eventually, exasperated, she said, "Yes?"

Caesar responded, "He has another request."

Isabella snapped, "He? Who the fuck is he? Why can't you just talk straight? You know how busy I am."

Caesar repeated, emphasizing, "He has another request."

Isabella's stomach sank slightly as it dawned on her, "Oh, that 'he.' I see. Well, what does he want?"

Caesar revealed, "Another transport."

Annoyed, Isabella retorted, "Caesar, you can arrange that! Why the hell are you bothering me with this bullshit?"

Unfazed, Caesar explained, "He's looking for a larger transport this time; more specific, not just shipping a crate like last time."

Isabella paused, visibly nervous. "How large? How specific? What kind of risk is the bastard exposing us to this time?"

Caesar replied, "If I didn't know better, I'd say he's going to war with someone. He wants to move a dozen of his people."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Isabella let out an exasperated sigh, "Jesus, a dozen?! What the hell is he up to now? How are we supposed to do that without exposing ourselves? It's like Chad all over again; that was a nightmare to arrange."

Caesar just stared past her at the horizon, his expression unchanged. "You could always say no."

Isabella laughed, her stress evident in the manic edge to her tone. "Would you like that, Caesar? To see how you stack up? Refusing him is tantamount to declaring war on ourselves."

Caesar countered, "We have resources; we are his resources. If we refuse to help him, he could be hamstrung. He can't get to us without us; we're everything to him. Even his transportation."

Isabella looked at Caesar with a mix of desperation and pleading, the facade of power falling away. "We can't do that; we cease to exist without him. And he has more than one way of hurting us, as well you know."

Caesar's smooth impassive face hinted at annoyance as he acknowledged, "Because of Victor."

Isabella's emotions strained her face as she implored Caesar to understand. "This has all been for Victor. What am I supposed to do now? Give up on him?"

Caesar coldly replied, "If you had given up on Victor before, we would be long past this problem."

In a fit of emotion, Isabella slapped Caesar. Physically, it did no good; it was like slapping a steel beam, causing no trace of pain and leaving no mark. However, the action spoke loudly, showing him that he was walking a dead-end path. Even his emotionless mind could understand what she was saying with the slap.

Regaining her composure, she stepped closer to Caesar, snarling as she spoke, "You wouldn't even exist without Victor."

Caesar replied distantly, "I would exist."

She shook her head, a mixture of anger and sadness clouding her expression, and said, "This Caesar wouldn't exist without Victor. Don't play fucking word games with me like that; you know exactly what I mean."

Caesar waited a moment before continuing as if the previous conversation hadn't occurred. "What do you want me to do?"

Isabella settled herself with a defeated tone. "You know we have to do it. It's better that you came and told me about it; at least now I know he's up to something. Arrange the transport for him but make it difficult. Delay just enough to make him feel like it's hard to pull off, but for Christ's sake, don't delay so much that you piss him off. And maybe... you should go too. Get a look at what's going on; maybe there will come a day when we can break free from him, and whatever's happening now might help."

Caesar just nodded, slipping back into the role of the perfect servant. The distant buzzing of a helicopter approached, growing louder, and Isabella spotted it on the horizon, muttering under her breath, "Thank Christ, I shouldn't have to wait like this."

Caesar asked, "Where are you going?"

She glanced at him sideways, the faintest hint of affection in her gaze. "You know where I'm going."