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“I’m the fucking boss now, Bree. There is no you without me. Delaney needs us both. If he makes it to the league, we will both take care of him. I might let him come home to you sometimes.” Haley Menjivar was unapologetic. Right after she spoke, she reached out and touched my breast, stroking my nipple underneath my t-shirt. No woman had ever touched me before. Not ever. Her hands became hot coals burning through my flesh, making my blood boil. I had to fight myself not to knock the shit out of her. She walked away from me, smiling, sucking on her bottom lip and whipping her hair around, as if she owned my fiancee now. The nerve of that bitch. Talking to me like she was the head bitch in charge now. Like Delaney was an object that belonged to both of us. Where did this fucking cunt get off telling me what she was going to do with my man? What hurt me most wasn’t that Delaney cheated. It was that he couldn’t get enough of istanbul travesti her.Fortunately, I had connections from my training in Washington, D.C. My instructor, Bharka, gave me a full file on Haley Menjivar. She was raised by a single mother. They never had any money. She never had a serious romantic relationship, but she enjoyed sex with successful men who had money. The twenty-one year old had been enticing grown men in threesomes, with her best friend Adriana, since she was 14. I smiled at the next nugget of information. Her father. He was a businessman and real estate investor in Texas, happily married to a wife of 30 years, with four children. Wow. Little Miss Haley was born from an extramarital affair. He was also a local politician who did not want anything to do with her and her mother, but sent her $500 per month her whole life. His wife never knew. He was a white man, Clint Snyder, istanbul travesti who pleasured himself with women of color. Haley knew of him, and had tried to meet him once. I watched in the video footage as she introduced herself to him at a hotel in Texas. Watched the uncomfortable grimace on his face while she questioned him. The way he rubbed his mouth, studying her, looking around from their isolated corner, as if checking to make sure no one saw him. I watched as finally, he leaned forward and spoke at her as if she were an animal. Before he got up and walked away. She couldn’t have been older than 16 or 17. So. I could only grin to myself. Haley screwed men who were taken, to fill the void of the father she never had. And Haley’s estranged daddy enjoyed using and then disposing of colored girls, while he painted a picture of the perfect family with his white wife.Bharka had given istanbul travesti me a gift. Finally, three months later, after I had advanced in my trainings as a Washington, D.C., political staffer, my trainer Bharka came to me with a packet, and a smile. “Inside is a full itinerary of the business convention in Texas, where Haley Menjivar’s father will be a panelist. Make it count.” Inside the package was a hidden camera sewn into my jacket pocket, a scanning device to ensure no other hidden cameras were recording, and photos of the types of women with whom he enjoyed long, extended affairs. Profile sheets of their lives and careers. The type of sex he liked to have — threesomes with his buddies, sometimes including his brother, and lots of spanking and whipping. I jetted out after work that Friday night. Saturday morning, I breezed into the Four Seasons to register for the Southwestern Real Property Masters Conference. I had come prepared for the August steam and humidity with light makeup, a long, wavy weave braided onto my scalp, and light, skin-hugging dresses underneath my suit jackets. Complete with six- inch killer heels. I got up to ask one question during his panel, to get his attention— jacket off.