Hey, over 700+ new views since I posted the last chapter. You're doing great for my self-esteem guys. And to those who've been giving me feedback thank you so much. I'm bowing before the laptop to all you readers out there.

Well, got a biology test to prepare for (even thought its just hitting 9pm here in NZ and my test isn't till t.30 2mrw night), so I think this should satisfy you guys for now tonight. I'm getting back in the flow and it's starting to come back to me.

-Violentkitsune

Chapter 20: Big Brother

Rage. Fear. Anger. Trepidation.

All of these emotions – in their raw forms, crossed over Clary's face as she arrived outside her bother's apartment complex. Golden Sands apartment complex was a tall building that basically smelt like money the moment you moved to the doors. Doorman dressed in black and gold coats with black hats bowed low as people passed through the doors of the complex into the lobby, tilting their hats to the residents of the building.

Clary strode up to the building in a pair of her dungaree's and Aztec printed cardigan. She was aware that she looked more like street riff-raff but she didn't give a damn. Those who judged others based on their outer shells were nothing but superficial beings, without any depth of character at all. Standing outside the lobby doors was a chipper old man, with a wide smile and kind eyes.

"Good evening ma'am," he said kindly as he held open the door. "How's your day been so far?"

"Terrible," Clary huffed, pulling out a twenty from her pocket. "And I feel like it's about to get worse."

The older man chuckled. "We all have those days, young miss. It's just a matter of how long it takes for us to kick it in the butt."

Clary smiled warmly and handed the twenty over to the doorman, who accepted it gratefully as she breezed into the lobby. The floor was made from black marble, with quartz walls and a shimmering chandelier dangling high in the center. There were soft velvet chaises' with floral patterns printed on them based by a flaming gold fireplace in the corner. People, young and old, were dressed to the nines and loitered about in the lobby, from the small café to the left, to he stairwell over by the lifts. Clary could appreciate the good architecture within the place, but she couldn't stand how these people just loitered about without a care in the world, throwing their money away on their public images rather than more meaningful matters.

The redhead stormed over to the elevators and shut the door before anyone could enter, heading all the way up to the top floor. Her situation was in dire straits if she had to come up to visit her brother of her own volition. She would've preferred to settle matters on the phone but there were more pressing matters that had to be addressed that night. Clary quickly sent out a text to remind Simon that she might be late tonight just as the golden doors of the elevator slid open to the top floor. Clary strode down to the end hall and knocked on the last door at the end of the corridor.

The door opened to reveal a leggy blonde with intelligent brown eyes and a delicate kind of beauty. Were it not for the haughty expression on her face and the sheet wrapped around her, Clary might've taken a liking to her once upon a time.

"Yes?" she purred, looking down condescendingly on Clary's form. "I'm sorry, but we don't buy Girl-Guide biscuits here. If you want, you can try the floor underneath."

Clary rolled her eyes. Her brother was notorious for his sexual appetite and often had girls trailing one after the other. "Is Jonathan awake or asleep?" she said plainly.

The girl flicked her hair around her shoulder and gazed down at Clary with disdain. "Sorry, but you must have the wrong apartment."

God, the girls he picks him are so bloody annoying! Clary raged. She barged past the woman and looked around the apartment, flicking on all the lights.

"What the—you can't just barge in here, midget!' The girl seethed, stumbling after Clary. "If you don't leave this second, I'm calling the police."

"Look 'honey', you seem like a real bitch," Clary started off, slinging her bag on the breakfast bar, "and I'm not in the mood for your antics so if you wouldn't mind, either shut up or leave."

The girl was flabbergasted and muttered incomprehensibly. "I-I-I-I'm calling the police, you psychotic bitch."

"Jonathan," Clary called out loud in a patronizing tone. "You're new toy doesn't seem to have any form of manners. That's a new low for you, isn't it?"

There was a shuffling from a side corridor and Jonathan came waltzing in, running his fingers through his pale hair. A pair of boxer briefs hung snugly around his waist, giving Clary an unwanted eyeful of his sculpted body - from the muscular legs to tapered waist and the lean muscles tensed up beneath his skin.

His eyes crinkled open in surprise as he saw Clary leaning against the bench, her eyes freezing him on the spot.

"My apologies, Clarissa," he said in an elevated tone. "If I'd known you were coming here, I would have the place more befitting of your presence."

"We need to talk," Clary said sharply. "Privately."

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders and looked across over at the blonde who was still wearing a scornful look on her face. "You're still here Jessamine? I thought we'd agreed you'd be gone by now."

"Now, now baby, don't be mean," the woman pouted. She crossed over to Jonathan and ran her fingers along the front of his crotch, spurring newfound emotions of disgust in Clary's body. "This little slut here was interrupting our quiet time. She wouldn't listen to me when I told her to get out and—"

"Jessamine." Jonathan picked his hand up and caressed her face lovingly, lulling her into a state of complete and utter ecstasy. The blonde had all but forgotten about Clary's presence and leaned in towards Jonathan, puckering her full lips in preparation for a kiss…

"That little 'slut' is my sister." Jessamine opened up her eyes and found herself staring into dark shadows, feeling them tear apart her soul piece by piece. Jonathan's entire demeanor had changed to something else entirely - something completely demonic. Jessamine cringed as Jonathan's grasp tightened around her hands, cutting off her blood circulation entirely. "And she is no more a slut than you are the face of Vogue magazine, wench." He wrenched her hand away with such uncontrollable force, sending the blonde girl tripping up over the sheet.

Jessamine was still in a state of shock as Jonathan made his way back to his room. A few seconds later he emerged with her belongings, from the short sequined halter dress and sparkling heels, to her black Gucci couture bag – and threw them all at her body. The blonde looked up at the man with starlight hair, and stumbled back. Gone was the playful, lustful man that she'd been lying with only minutes ago, replaced with a feral demon that instigated a strong sense of fear seep within the far reaches of her heart. His face still had that same small smirk, but now there was a specific danger behind his smile that threatened her safety. She felt so tiny, so insignificant in his presence. "If you do not remove yourself from this apartment within sixty seconds, I will be forced to call the superintendent and the security guards to remove you from this place."

Clary stared coolly at the blonde as she stumbled to pick up her gears, dropping the sheet down and tossing the tight dress over her naked form. She still wore a look of indignation, but now it was tempered; her pride had been broken and her spirit was in shambles. Mustering whatever was left of her dignity the blonde sent a dark glare in Clary's direction before slamming the door behind her.

Clary looked back over at her brother as he picked up the sheet off the floor. He wrapped it around his waist and secured it with a knot before gliding towards Clary, completely and utterly shameless about behind half-naked in front of his blood relation.

"I am profoundly disgusted by your habits," Clary spat out. "It's barely six in the evening and you're already screwing a girl in your bed."

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy there, sister of mine?" Jonathan said seductively, running his fingers along her jawline as he passed her. "Have no fear Clarissa – you'll always take first priority over those other girls. My toys are just entertainment for when there's nothing fun to do."

Clary gagged on her own saliva. "Pervert." She folded her arms across her chest as she stared evenly at her brother. "We have more pressing problems. There's a group of police officers that are trying to gather evidence on Sanguine's death. They've already discovered that his death was premeditated, and it's only a matter of time before they begin to discover our involvement with his death. Are you even paying attention?"

Jonathan looked up from the bench, staring at Clary with a blank poker-face. He was pouring himself a shot-glass of schnapps in a bottle, watching the liquid slosh about within the glass. "And what's the problem exactly?"

"My problem? My problem?!" Clary tightened her hands into an enclosed fist as she glared Jonathan in the eyes. "My problem is that you promised me that no one would be investigating. You said no one would look into it because of the circumstances of that night. 'A typical O.D.D, that's how they'll see it.' And yet look where we are, Jonathan! Your acclaimed skillset that you boast about so much isn't as great as you think it is."

Jonathan strode over to his sister in three steps and grasped ahold of her shoulders, tilting her chin up with his thumb. His eyes hardened like black coal and his jawline tensed up as he glowered at her. "Are you questioning my ability to keep you safe Clary?" he demanded in a low voice. "Do you feel that I am incompetent in my duty as Valentine's Firstborn and as your brother? Is that what I'm hearing in your voice?"

"What do you think, Jonathan?" Clary replied coolly.

Jonathan brushed his forehead against Clary's, pulling his lips up into a brutal snarl. Clary knew that she was pushing him too far, but this matter was too dire to be left unresolved. If they found out about her involvement- God, if Jace found out about her involvement, there's no knowing what would happen.

Clary stiffened. No, no, no, no no no! Since when did she start giving a damn about what Jace thought about her? He was just a cop – she shouldn't be worrying about him on such a personal level. His opinion shouldn't matter to her.

"I think, sweet sister of mine," Jonathan growled as he gripped the back of her head tightly, "that your lack of faith in me is an insult. You should know that I will always, always - look out for you first. And if you can't find yourself believing it on your own, then I'll pound it into this thick skull of yours until it's branded across your forehead. Are we clear Clarissa?"

Clary's blood froze at her brother's antagonistic behavior. There it was - Jonathan's true colors showing through that beautiful façade of his. All of her pent-up anger that was boiling within her earlier evaporated into nothing but smoke. In the face of her brother's fury, she finally recognized what it was to be truly wrathful, to be a true Morgenstern. She cast her eyes down meekly, losing all of her courage and uttering a small reply. "Crystal clear, brother."

Jonathan loosened his hold on the back of her head and slowly stroked her red curls, backing away from her ever so slightly. "Good. It's not so hard now to have faith in me, isn't it?" he crooned. "As your brother, my first instinct is and will always be to protect you. That alone should be enough incentive for you to believe me."

Clary held her arms across her chest and moved over to the leather armchair in the lounge. To her, Jonathan was a paradox. There was no way of predicting what he would do next, and it was never clear what his endgame was. The silver-blonde was a grandmaster in the art of illusions, a manipulative genius. He could predict every outcome from his opponents moves, and would manipulative their choices to his own advantage.

"Now, was there any other reason why you barged into my penthouse unannounced? Not that I'm displeased to have you here of course – it's always a pleasure having you in my home. But if you came just to accuse me of doing poorly, then that's just pathetic."

Clary snorted and pointed to her bag over on the bench. Jonathan rummaged through the bag and emerged with a wide envelope. "Blueprints for Raphael's holdings up in the Bronx. The one's listed in the archives in Town Hall haven't been updated. Two years ago, Raphael added another floor to the building and hired a private architect to redesign the whole interior of the building.

Jonathan unfurled the blueprint and laid it flat along the bench, placing the glass and schnapps at either end of the paper. "Now how did you acquire such a blueprint as this? It can't have been such an easy task."

Clary sneered at her brother and held her chin up loftily. "You have your friends, I have mine."

"Impressive," Jonathan noted. 'Taking the initiative to use your own resources. Have you had any further contact with Raphael?"

"No. I've visited his holdings three times altogether, including the interview process, and so far I've just been interacting with his second-in-command Lily. During those times we've only been discussing the agreement of the contract held in place between myself and Raphael, and organizing a time and date for the start of the painting."

"Is there anything you can tell me so far about his security detail? Camera placement? Something that can help me on the inside?" Jonathan demanded.

"The only thing I can tell you about is that they have camera's placed around all four corners of this building, with three-sixty rotation, and motion sensor's in place."

"What about the vault? Do you have any idea of where it's located?"

Clary stood up off the armchair and glided towards Jonathan, pushing him out of the way so she could get a better look at the building's architecture. "While I was waiting out in the foyer, the guard detail would always swap between the top floor of the building and the basement. Other than that, I have no clue."

Both siblings stood side-by-side, looking down at the diagram before them. Jonathan angled his body slightly towards Clary as an idea sprang forth in his head. "When do you start the painting?"

"I have one more appointment with Lily before I begin my work with Raphael. The appointment for the official painting is scheduled next week Tuesday afternoon, and it's a solid three hours." Clary turned her body towards Jonathan with a questionable gaze upon her face. "Why? What do you have in mind?"

Jonathan picked up the schnapps off the bench and took a long swig from the bottle. "I'm going to make a call to the Seelie Court."

Clary's face blanked out. "Wha- the Seelie Court? Why?"

"Well for starter's we need to check in with them to let them know that we haven't completely abandoned the task given to us. Two, I'm brokering another deal with them on behalf of father in preparation for the Auction next month. And finally because there is someone there whose skills are in high demand for this particular job of ours." Jonathan headed over to the phone set up by the fridge. "We need to get our eyes inside that building and while I know how capable you are, you need to be focused on your own part of the job if we want this to be a success."

"What are we talking, professional hacker? Computer genius?"

"Something like that," Jonathan said smoothly.

Clary folded her cardigan around her and swung her bag up on her shoulder. "You can have the blueprint – I've got another copy back home."

"Leaving so soon?" Jonathan pouted after his little sister's form. "You can stay the night, you know. There's a spare bedroom that's all decked out for you to use." He saw the suspicious look on her face and raised a hand up placidly. "Don't worry – none of my toys have ever gone in there. That room is reserved for honorary family members only"

"How thoughtful," Clary rubbed the base of her neck. "As generous as that offer of yours is, unfortunately I have some own details to tend to. Some of us still have bills to pay and papers to work on."

"Of course," Jonathan said gently. "Well the offer still stands whenever you need a place."

Clary flicked her hair up into a loose bun and walked out of the apartment. "Good night Jonathan."

In a dimly lit room, a woman of exquisite beauty lounged across a red velvet chaise, looking through the files set up before. A number of applicants had applied for the new internship program at Glamour, and all of them showed promising potential. She flipped through the I.D photos scattered on the table and pursed her pale pink lips. The woman had long red hair that was reminiscent of autumn's final showdown before winter, a brilliant shade of auburn just as the sun sets off in the distance.

"Hmm, this one looks divine," she whispered in the still air of her parlor. Her voice was a soft musical chime, dancing gently through the ears of those who had the pleasure to listen to her. She held another photo in her hands and stared at the handsome man, forever frozen in time on the page. "A little feral looking, but women enjoy that air of mystery around a man."

Brrrrrooom – Brrrrooom

The woman picked up the receiver of her telephone on the table before and held it gently in her perfectly manicured hands. "C'est de la part de Queen."

"Your Majesty, a pleasure to hear your voice Beautiful One."

The woman curled her legs up and sat up straighter, feeling a sly smile rise up on her face. "Jonathan," she cooed. "How is Morgenstern's Firstborn doing these days?"

"I am doing fine, Your Majesty," he teased on his end. "My sister and I in the process of retrieving that little artifact of yours. And I must say that you put us in quite a tight fix."

"Well I'm sure you'll come through," the woman said in light chime. "The descendant's of Morgenstern are a match for anything. After all, they have the blood of both the angel and the devil in them, do they not? That is why your bloodline comes out so beautiful and temperamental."

"My Lady, you make me blush," Jonathan said lustfully on his end.

"It would be better if you were here in person. I'd be able to see that delicious shade on your handsome features."

"Now now, my Lady, we have business to deal with. I require Miss Whitewilow's services with this task of ours. We've encountered a… slight hurdle and her expertise is a necessity if we are to be successful with this operation of ours. I would like your consent to have her work with us for a short period."

"Why Jonathan, as an business partner, I would gladly offer up Miss Whitewillow's services to you," the auburn-haired woman said sweetly on the phone. "But you know, Miss Whitewillow has felt that she is being harassed by that sister of yours, Jonathan. And as her Head, I can't just blatantly throw her in with a savage dog yapping at her heels."

"Well, I have as much power over a barking dog as you do over an act of god. We cannot control the situation to come, but what we can do is use it to our advantage."

"Well, I'm not so sure about giving you Miss Whitewillow. She's quite an asset and the last thing I want is for her pretty face to get scratched by that illiterate dwarf you call your sister. Honestly Jonathan, you two are bred from the same stock, yet you both came out so different. Your birth mother's blood has tainted your bloodline."

"If you're that worried about Clarissa, I can assure you that I will keep her on a tight leash. She'll come around to our ideal way of thinking soon enough."

"Good. Wild beasts need to learn their place under those far more dominant." The woman sighed dreamily into the phone. "Are you sure I can't tempt you with another 'fellowship' opportunity here at Glamour? I could use an experienced individual such as yourself to help initiate the new neophytes. And perhaps I could add a little something extra to your credibility. I know how much Valentine likes to hear about people doting on his children. Perhaps I could put in a good word for you."

"My Lady," Jonathan said passionately. "My heart will always yearn after you, but I must protest. I just need Miss Whitewillow's services for now. Perhaps we can reschedule another time for when I might come in to visit you. However, in return for your services, can I tempt you with a viewing of some of the merchandise that will be featuring in the upcoming auction next month? I can promise that you won't be disappointed."

The woman's cerulean blue eyes widened at the young man's offer. The Dawn-breaker Auction was an absolute must for all those in the know, featuring pieces of extreme value, both living and inanimate. "Will I be able to review the live merchandise as well?"

"Oui, Madam. You can look to your hearts content for just one night only."

She held a slender hand out in front of her, her fingers adorned by a shimmering ring embedded with an Alexandrite stone, its hues shifting in the light. "You drive a hard bargain, Master Morgenstern. I'll send Miss Whitewillow's details to you within the hour."

"Merci, Madam Queen."

The woman ended the call and tapped her fingers against her slender jawline. The Head of the Seelie Court, and major corporate boss of Modeling Agency Glamour, looked out the floor to ceiling windows that displayed the entire city on platter. There was Central Park lying yonder like an emerald jewel amongst the trash, with tall towers skyrocketing high above the din. The woman stood up and padded over to her desk, catching a glance of her figure in the reflections of the surfaces around her. She pressed a call button on her phone and listened to a passionate tenor answer the call.

"My Queen, what is your wish?"

The Seelie Queen pursed her lips and caught sight of her glistening blue eyes staring back at her through the glass windowpane. She twirled a slight curl around her finger. "Send me Miss Whitewillow immediately. We have business to discuss."

To be honest, i had no idea what the hell I was doing in this chapter until I read through the whole thing. Geez, sometimes I am a pure genius and sometimes I just look at my stuff and think 'Where in Hell did I even find this sort of crap?'

Review, give advice, critique, whatever you lovelies want to do.

Funfact: I get some of my inspiration from Blacklist, and also other people's fanfic stories. not to mention my own nutty friends (e.g. Changeling's impromptu performance is based off me and my mates when we were in town at Night Markets, and some of our mates were doing professional busking with the microphones and speakers and everything. So we all sang ;Little talks' and earned them a few extra cash dollars - ka-ching ka-ching)

If you know any good stories - be they fanfic or otherwise, don't hesitate to PM me.

-Violentkitsune