Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

From the moment Parker stepped out of the palace, Pandora had been following him like a celestial shadow with a crush—except the shadow was loud, sparkly, and emotionally unstable.

Sarah, dragged along by the unrelenting force that was Pandora, had lost track of how many cities they'd hovered over. Manhattan. Back to the palace and then here. She wasn't sure if they were flying or orbiting anymore. What she was sure of was that Pandora's obsession had hit metaphysical levels.

At first, Sarah thought the cosmic being was doing reconnaissance. Strategy. Planning. You know—divine warlord things. But no. Turns out, she was just watching Parker breathe.

Watching him... breathe!

It wasn't even subtle. Pandora would conjure a floating golden screen the size of a garage door, tune into Parker like he was the universe's hottest reality show, then gasp, swoon, and throw entire sapphires into the sky just because he smirked. She even screamed once because he exhaled through his nose. The woman had once commanded stars—and now she was being emotionally undone by the way a man ran his hand through his hair.

It was unbearable to see. It was absurd.

It was also kind of entertaining.

Even Pandora's crow—her loyal, pitch-black, vaguely divine companion—had finally gotten fed up and flapped off into the clouds, wings twitching like they were trying to erase the memory of Pandora declaring she'd "die happy if Parker looked left again."

Sarah hadn't blamed the bird.

And whenever she tried to leave? When Sarah, in her infinite wisdom and superspeed, tried to slink away from the madness? Pandora would snap her back like a yo-yo. No warning. No grace. One second, she'd be halfway to the next city, the next she'd be hovering right beside Pandora again, a glittery teleportation energy spinning smugly under her feet.

Apparently, Sarah's suffering was part of the entertainment package.

Sarah groaned, arms crossed as she floated beside her. Her sister was at home, and this woman—this terrifying divine force dressed in silks and madness—was playing paparazzi to the Prince of Existence like her eternal purpose depended on it.

Pandora didn't flinch. If anything, she looked proud.

"You're insane," Sarah muttered.

"I'm consistent," Pandora replied, eyes still fixed on Parker through the hovering golden screen like she was watching her soulmate on stage. "Loyalty is a virtue."

"Obsession is a disorder."

"You say that like it's not both."

Sarah rolled her eyes and tried to turn around, floating backwards through the air. She didn't even make it a full body length before a divine snap yanked her through space, slamming her right back into place like gravity had feelings.

"I hate that," she groaned, brushing off her jacket.

"I love that," Pandora chirped. "It keeps the atmosphere balanced."

Sarah was about to curse when something heavy landed in her hand.

"Here! Your payroll!" Pandora beamed, throwing her a small velvet pouch.

Sarah blinked. Then opened it.

Inside were three fucking diamonds. Clear as daylight. Probably large enough to buy a skyscraper.

The only upside was the paycheck. Every hour or so, Pandora would throw her a pouch of diamonds or a gold bar the size of a protein bar. Actual gold. Actual diamonds. And whenever Sarah dared to complain, Pandora would wag a finger and say things like, "That's your payroll."

"It's called payment, not payroll," Sarah said flatly.

"What's the difference?"

"Payroll is what companies give their employees."

"And what did I just do?"

"Bribe me into staying with you."

"…Soooo, we're clear. Payroll."

"That's not—"

"Shut up, Sarah. Be grateful."

"It's payment, not payroll," Sarah snapped back, pocketing a pouch that glittered with actual treasures. "This isn't a job. I don't clock in."

Pandora had gasped, one hand over her chest. "You don't honor your sacred calling to witness divine beauty? This is an honorary position."

"It's stalking," Sarah muttered.

"It's art."

Still, Sarah couldn't complain too much. Her sister was safe, happy, spoiled with a personal maid, expensive, shoes, dresses, schoolbooks, and soon-to-be Queen Elsa ice powers—courtesy of Pandora's unhinged promises. Her bank account was flourishing, her powers were growing, and her life had taken a turn so sharp, it looked like a cosmic joke in reverse.

But beneath all the diamonds and laughter, Sarah could sense the truth.

Pandora wasn't just watching Parker for fun. She was also avoiding him. Not because she didn't want him to see her—but because she didn't know what would happen if he did. She was hiding her power like it was a ticking bomb, carefully suppressing every ripple of her aura, afraid that the moment Parker felt her, he'd remember… something.

Something big. Something painful?

Sarah didn't know the details. Didn't want to, honestly. But she saw the tension behind the drama, the fear wrapped in glitter and theatrics. She knew this wasn't just about a crush.

Anyway... Pandora. Divine, insane, and generous in the most ridiculous ways. Every hour that passed, she either paid Sarah in diamonds or gold. Just because she liked being watched. Or maybe—maybe—she liked the company now that her crow had quit her fan club.

Sarah pocketed the pouch and sighed. Truth was, she was starting to enjoy it. Sitting around, getting paid in actual gems just to float and watch Parker walk through life like he owned every reality he stepped into? Not the worst gig.

And her sister? Safe. The maid came every morning—coming in with perfectly ironed uniforms and lunchboxes, making sure the girl went to school, came back, ate like royalty. Sarah even kept in touch using the magic mirror-thing Pandora gave her. Plus, the little brat didn't seem to miss her much.

Apparently, being promised Queen Elsa ice powers by Auntie Pandora made her forget she even had a big sister.

"Frozen really rotted their brains," Sarah muttered. "I trade my life to give her everything, and she picks a woman with flying dresses and sparkles just 'cause she promised her an ice bridge."

Ungrateful child. A year ago, she was crying in a one-room apartment. Now she was getting driven to school in a Rolls Royce. And all it took was that one tip.

Fifty. Thousand. Dollars.

Courtesy of Tessa, of course.

Sarah crossed her arms again. "Yeah, I'm team Tessa till I die."

"You're only saying that because she gave you fifty grand earthly money," Pandora sang dreamily, not even turning from the screen.

"I'm saying that because she gave me fifty grand while looking hot, calm, and smelling like moral superiority," Sarah snapped. "What would Maya give me?"

"A warning."

"Exactly."

Down on the screen, Parker walked—Tessa and Maya side by side, flanking him like the twin embodiments of loyalty and storm. Pandora leaned forward, moaning softly like a priest witnessing prophecy.

"He walks like destiny owes him money…"

Sarah squinted. "He walks like he owns the ground."

"He is the ground."

"Stop talking."

"No."

Sarah sighed, then muttered, "You're not even watching them. You're just staring at his hair."

"It moves with intention."

"I hope Tessa wins."

"She won't."

"Still. She gave me fifty grand. I'm required by divine law to root for her."

"That's adorable," Pandora said, reaching into a second pouch and tossing Sarah another sapphire. "Keep being cute, I'll add you to the biweekly payroll."

"It's called payment—you know what, never mind."

Sarah leaned back, diamonds in her pocket, sky under her feet, and a front-row seat to the slow unraveling of divine drama.

She could've walked away anytime.

She just… didn't want to.