She resolved herself to having a boring day. Neva, her mother was shopping, her live-in boyfriend, Peter, was at work, her sister, Mercedes, was away...on a trip.She faintly heard the doorbell ring, but she chose to ignore it. It was probably just a delivery guy dropping off a package. But moments later, she heard knocking at the front door. She looked out her window and realized it wasn’t a delivery guy, so she moved to go downstairs. The knocking turned to banging. She yelled, “I’m coming. That was why they always addressed me as “Prince,” they were raised that way! Cynthia might not see offering up her virginity to me as a duty (it was 2008, not 1500), as her mother did. Still, she saw me as a combination prince/celebrity, and the mixture of her mother culture with the LA way (where celebrity gets pussy, and people make lists of exceptions to their vows) combined to make her want to be with me.Finally, there was a practical side. “As a father, I only wish to see her happy. I. ”“I’m sure you won’t let that get in your way,” I commented. I was now more than ever convinced that the images and videos I had found online were accurate if slightly exaggerated.“I haven’t failed yet. They don’t pay good money for failure and my reputation precedes me.”“You get paid?”“Yes, and very well. I am the solver of other people’s problems.”“And this new…?” I asked uncertain what to call her.“I’m getting there. She is not used to discipline at home and is finding it hard to accept. I was certain the vault was underground, which would mean there wouldn’t be any windows. So, where the light came from?A number of dark wooden doors stood out from the monotony of the stone, but nothing else adorned the walls. A statue stood not too far away from the stairs. I didn’t understand why there would be a statue but no other decorations. In all of the movies and TV shows I had seen when a vault was involved, the inside of the vault was always purely functional. There were never any.