The white wolf in a business suit, also known as James Rufus Crystal, Mr. Crystal or Jimmy to you, mind! He stood at the glamorous bathroom vanity, glowering at his reflection in the mirror. Grasping so tightly to the rim of the porcelain sink it was a miracle it didn’t shatter. His mind a menagerie of anger, confusion and maybe a tad bit of hurt thrown in there, although his fury trumped all. 
That fucking koala! He thought with a vengeance. The little bastard had the audacity to not only thwart him in a well orchestrated murder attempt, but came back and broke into his own theater after hours and attempted to put up a botched show to the public, for free, no less! No one had ever been so bold to try and pull a fast one on Jimmy Crystal, and none had ever lived to tell the tale, truth be told, until now. Fortunately, Jimmy was wise to it and had received a much welcome tip-off from his loyal assistant, Jerry the portly tabby cat who seemed to grovel the very ground Jimmy trod on. The mad wolf gritted his teeth, and a deep, guttural growl rumbled in his throat. 
What’s worse, the meddling koala had managed to not only usurp the theater, but also somehow hoodwinked his very own daughter into disobeying him, as well. This of course made Jimmy angrier than all else. Porsha, his baby girl, now turned against him and apparently on the run too. Jimmy was suspicious that the koala somehow swindled Suki Lane, the talent scout and a few other no-name theater performers away too. He could live without the performers, they were dispensable and new hopefuls could replace them in a day.  Suki, on the other hand would be a tough role to fill. After all she was indeed the best talent scout in the city, he only ever hired the best of the best for this critical role. This was all merely speculation, however. Since Moon had managed to escape from he, Jimmy’s very own office quarters which so happened to be the only place in the entire complex not monitored by CCTV cameras. Jimmy wouldn’t find out the truth short of hunting down the koala and beating the answer from him in person. His guards clearly were too incompetent and useless for such a task. None of them managed to apprehend a single fucking person escaping his theater!
This brought a new wave of belligerent fury over the theater mogul, and he whirled around, kicking the wastebin aside, and sending the contents of his vanity scattering to the floor. Toothbrush, comb, paste, claw-clippers and fuck knows what else in every direction.  “Goddammit, Porsha!” Jimmy howled, storming off in the direction of his daughter’s room across the hall. 
 
Grasping the doorknob, Jimmy discovered it was locked. Stupid girl! The rage coursing through his body drove his adrenaline to new levels and with a quick, firm twist in his powerful hands, the lock shattered. Unceremoniously, Jimmy kicked the door open and pounced into the room. Searching around eagerly for a clue or evidence as to where his spoiled brat daughter had gone. Jimmy stalked up to the bed, an indent of where Porsha had lay in it not long ago was still etched into the memory foam, with a cluster of crumpled tissues dotted in black mascara tossed about. So, the ungrateful little brat had been crying. Boo-hoo! He couldn’t stand how pathetically weak his daughter was when it came to emotions, it made him simmer with anger. She’s a goddamn Crystal, but sure doesn’t act like one! 
Without any consideration, Jimmy tore the bed apart, pillows, mattress and everything went flying. Aside from a small plastic baggie of white, powdery nose-candy Porsha seemed to think was well hidden between the mattress and box spring, there was nothing. No notes, not a damn thing. Jimmy picked up the bag of cocaine and gave it a shake. There was a good amount of grams left inside of the pure white Colombian powder. This wasn’t a surprise to Jimmy, he knew full well his precious daughter had been dabbling in the stuff off and on since she turned 18. After all, it was pretty obvious when she came home from a late night of partying, her pupils so dilated that there were hardly any traces of her gold irises to be seen. Often, she sported the signs of having sloppily attempted to hide a nosebleed with dried blood around her nostrils along with saliva caked to her cheeks. It was beyond pathetic, but Jimmy gave her the benefit of the doubt. He had to in order to formulate her life plan he'd carefully drawn out over the years. Give her everything she wanted without question, and it was more than easy to manipulate her to his whims.
“Dumb bitch!” He muttered, dropping the bag to the floor. Taking extra care to squash it beneath the heel of his dress shoe and smear it across the luxury carpet. Wasting God knows how many hundreds of dollars in the process. He didn’t care, what’s a few hundred dollars to a billionaire, really? It was his money that was used to buy it, no doubt. The sodden look of shock and hurt on her pathetic pretty face when she came home and discovered it would be all too worth it! 
Now, turning his attention to the night-stand, Jimmy rifled through the drawers. Discarding an old diary, bullet vibrators, a dildo or two and a few bottles of lubricant. None of these items were worth pausing over. Porsha’s sexual secrets were no mystery to him, her moans of ecstasy in the middle of the night when she played with these items weren’t exactly hard to miss. The diary was of no use, either. Porsha clearly hadn't used it since grade school. There was a few poorly drawn sketches and many misspelled entries within the pages from her school days.   Next, he turned his attention to her dresser and turned it over. Tossing expensive clothing, intimate apparel, all of it in every direction. Again, not one note or liaison of her whereabouts was found. Now, it was the walk-in wardrobe’s turn. Jimmy grinned manically as he wrenched the door open and started his searching tirade all over again. 
Finally, some fifteen minutes later, the deed was done. Jimmy headed to the room's exit and turned to admire his handiwork. Porsha’s bedroom, once spotless, tidy and organized moments before now looked like a twister had ripped through it. Clothes everywhere, a few ripped dresses, the bed a mess. Drawers scattered about, bottles of expensive perfume, shampoo, conditioners and makeup strewn around, a few shattered. The smell from the broken fragrance and shampoo bottles gave off the scent as if a bomb had gone off in Victoria’s Secret. He even used a flowery umbrella in the wardrobe to stab through the screen of Porsha's 62" Smart TV that she coveted so much. 
“Heh heh. My house, my rules, princess! Everything you “own” belongs to me at the end of the day and I can take it all back whenever the fuck I feel like!” Jimmy smirked, satisfied. 
Jimmy closed the busted door best he could behind him. Hell, he’d have his carpenter come by later and fix up the door so it looked like nobody had entered. That way, when Porsha did come crawling back she would be none the wiser until she unlocked it and went inside… The thought made Jimmy grin. 

Returning to his bathroom vanity, Jimmy tidied up his suit, tie and collar to make himself presentable for his morning meetings. A plan was forming in his head on what was to be done and it came down to going about it himself. His overpaid security personnel had proved that they couldn’t do what needed to be done so the mad wolf would take matters into his own hands. Something he hadn’t need resort to in many, many years but nonetheless a skill he had honed long ago in his climb to the top of the totem pole of power. 
Satisfied with his appearance, Jimmy headed to his bedroom. Swinging the wardrobe door aside, he carelessly swept his suits, ties and dress pants hanging up neatly to the side revealing a tall, coal black combination safe hidden behind everything. Jimmy clicked through the combination dial, and heard the tumblers ‘clink’ satisfactorily, allowing him access to the contents inside. Guns, ammunition, brass knuckles and a slew of highly illegal weapons greeted his eyes, he licked his lips at the sight. It had been so long since he had need of them but there they were, gleaming and ready to be used again. 
Grabbing a pair of brass knuckles, he stuffed them in his inner coat pocket. He then produced a mil-spec 9mm Beretta with an extended clip of rounds. A mil-spec Colt M1911 .45 ACP that belonged to his father. Having stowed the two pistols under his jacket in conceal-carry holsters he had affixed to all his attire, Jimmy stalked from the room. Down the grand spiral staircase leading to the extravagant kitchen, sitting room, and dining room. Taking yet another set of stairs to the attached multi-car garage. Jimmy’s eyes swept over the array of Ferraris, Porsches, Bentleys and Lamborghinis. Deciding on a deep ocean blue 2020 Bentley Continental GT he hadn’t driven much. The car still had less than a thousand miles on it so it was time to break it in! 
However, before taking off. Jimmy made sure to boot Porsha’s hot pink Porsche 911 Carrera. It was the only car she could drive, all of his cars were fingerprint protected and wouldn’t fire up without the tap of his right thumb to the security screen.  Destroying the hot pink Porsche was out of the question, unlike Porsha’s room. Unironically, Jimmy had purchased it for Porsha’s late mother, Jessica Nicolette, many years prior. Unbeknownst to Porsha, she had been conceived in that car after a night of drunken, reckless speeding around the Redshore City strip the pair of them had taken in not long after they started dating. Jimmy surprised the ungrateful bitch with the car only on their second date. It wasn’t until two years after Porsha’s birth that his ex got uppity and wanted to strike the divorce lottery and make off with several million dollars, plus their precious daughter. Jimmy couldn’t let that happen, so he arranged a nice little “suicide” for Jessica when the divorce proceedings heated up. Nobody was the wiser, his cunning was unrivaled. Porsha was far too young at the time to know what really happened to her mom, and Jimmy intended to keep it that way. Since then, she had been “Daddy’s girl”, always. 
 
Sidetracked, Jimmy sauntered over to the low-slung Porsche, popped open the door, and sat behind the wheel. The tacky smell of cheap Little Trees air fresheners assaulted his nose. There had to be at least dozen of them hanging from the rearview mirror. He rolled his eyes and drew in a long sniff through his sensitive nostrils. Despite the overwhelming scent of the Trees, Jimmy could faintly detect the scent of the perfume Jessie used to wear. 
He lamented some more on his ex’s memory. A young, bright eyed hopeful in his auditions. She was tall, sleek and elegant. Curvaceous in all the right places, and naive as a box of rocks. Silky fur, and the ideal Timber Wolf specimen if he’d ever seen one. It didn’t take long after the auditions concluded; he, Jimmy sought her out personally and laid on the charm, something he rarely did with auditioners as most never made the cut. It wasn’t long before Jessica was not only performing in his theater, but joining him in his office late at night for a post-show “siesta”. The heated fucks they had were second to none, Jessica was insatiably horny and Jimmy was there to give her the best D she would ever have.
Of course, Jessica was stupid enough to think Jimmy was “making love” to her. Far from it! All she was to him was a walking, talking sperm bank. Jimmy had no time for this so-called love thing, his career and money were his one true love. Porsha came close to love, but even she was more of a collateral possession of his, too. Jimmy had hoped she’d step into her mother’s spotlight someday, and make Jessica, the worthless slut, look like the pathetic podunk trash she was. Porsha had her mother’s good looks, but the blood that ran through her veins was his. Jimmy definitely noticed the Crystal qualities lurking within his daughter many times throughout her upbringing. They just needed the right persuasion to blossom to their full potential. 
 Honing her in right was key, and now, that goddamned key was lost! Growling, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel and got back out of the Porsche jerkily, shutting the door unceremoniously. He stalked over to the Bentley, and wrenched the door open. 
The car’s dash lit up as soon as he closed the door behind him. “Good morning, Mr. Crystal.” Came a cool, female’s voice from the surround speakers. Obviously this was AI tech, but Jimmy had trained it to address him properly and to connect to his phone for calls and business dealings on the fly. All his cars had similar tech and it came in quite handy to the fast paced life of a business wolf in a suit. 
Pressing his thumb to the security pad, it lit up green and Jimmy managed a small, satisfactory grin before depressing the start button. The car roared to life with a throaty rumble. He goosed the accelerator, and the W12 engine roared satisfactorily. Like a mad tiger in a cage, dying to get out and annihilate anything in its path, is what the sensation felt like to Jimmy. 
Clicking the button for the garage, Jimmy put the car in drive and sped out into the brilliant summer sunshine. Down the long drive from his mansion, tapping another button for the automatic gate to slide aside. The wolf ramped up the throttle again turning out on the main road, nobody was coming, and the car performed a satisfying slide around the corner before catching traction on the asphalt and speeding off down Townline Road, the tall skyscrapers of Redshore City on the horizon.