Hey guys!

*Immediately runs away from angry mob*

WOW. So I KNEW that you guys were going to react rather strongly to the devil of a cliffhanger that I wrote last chapter, but…I wasn't expecting…

FIFTY

Flippin

Three

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You guys are the best, you know that? This story now has pretty much 550 reviews. That's insane! Thank you!

Now, onto the story, with the Final Arc, Arc 3. I hope you like this last third of the story!

ENJOY!

START OF ARC 3

MATTHEW

"Matthew, I swear that if you don't stop that I'm gonna Charlie horse you."

"I'm not doing anything, stupid," he said to his brother, trying to switch the channel again, "The stupid remote isn't working, stupid."

"Then fix it," his twin said from his spot on the couch.

"You do it."

"You're already up," Bobby rolled his eyes, "You do it."

"Fine," Matthew huffed and rolled off the couch and got to his feet, "You're fixing the remote batteries next time."

"Okay," Bobby shrugged playing with the wheels of his new skateboard he'd gotten for his birthday. They'd both gotten expensive longboards from Percy, and they'd been out all afternoon trying them out.

Matthew got the step stool from the kitchen to reach the cupboard with the batteries, and wrinkled his nose at the smell, hoping to find two double A batteries quickly.

"Matt, get me some cookies while you're at it. I'm hungry and mom said dinner's going to be late."

"We don't have any!" he yelled back.

"What? No way."

"Yes way," he said, finding two batteries that looked new, "Annabeth hasn't made any."

"She's coming back tonight though, right?"

"Yeah," he said going back to his twin with the batteries.

"Hurry up," Bobby groaned, "I'm stuck watching the news. It's the boring-est thing ever. They've repeated the lottery numbers and all they're talking about is some dumb billionaire. I thought that if you had money you were supposed to be smart."

"What did he do?" Matthew asked, trying to pry open the panel.

"He was apparently dead for like, forever, but now he's not anymore. And he's sixteen. Why would he want to hide? I don't get it. You can do anything with that much money."

"I'd hire a butler," he mused, "And buy every type of chips in the supermarket."

"I'd get a trampoline," his twin shrugged at the panel moved and Matthew took out the old batteries.

"Say, what's this guy's name?"

"Perseus Olympian. Who in their right mind names their kid Perseus Olympian?" Bobby paused. "Hey! Looks like they're following this now. They're waiting for him at John F. Kennedy Airport. That's here in New York, right?"

"Yup!" Matthew said, "That's us."

"Don't change it, I want to see it," his twin said, leaning forward.

They both watched the screen, the remote batteries forgotten about already. Instead of a teenager coming through the doors of an airport, they saw a man in a cool suit come out and hold the door open.

"You see?" Matthew pointed at the screen. "I told you I would get a butler."

Bobby sighed as the yelling from the reporters grew louder. "Just let me see the billionaire already!"

His wish came true as he saw a teen walk through the door, followed by four other people, then another fancy dressed guy.

Matthew gave a low whistle. This kid had style. The screen said he was sixteen, and seventeen in August, but he looked older. The sunglasses he was wearing looked cool but otherwise he didn't look a billionaire at all. He looked like the high schoolers he saw near his school.

"He looks like Percy." Bobby said. "Doesn't he?"

Matthew squinted at the screen. "A bit. His hair is a bit neater, and he's more tanned."

"You know, I think it is Percy. Just think about it, Matt. Your real name is Matthew but nobody calls you that except mom and the principle."

"Yeah, but is it really him though?"

Bobby suddenly pointed at the screen, "Hey! Look. Look!"

"What?"

"I told you! It's gotta be Percy because Annie is right behind him!"

"Holy shit!" he said, quickly turning his head to make sure his mother wasn't coming down the stairs to admonish him on his 'quickly developing crude vocabulary.'

"Wow." Bobby breathed. "I wonder if Annabeth knew!"

"Who cares?" Matthew grinned. "Annabeth's so cool. I wonder if she could get Percy to buy us a trampoline!" he laughed as they stood watching the TV with amazement watching Percy ignore all the flashes of the cameras and the reporters.

"We should tell mom." Bobby said suddenly. "If the reporters follow Annabeth here, she's not going to be happy. Imagine them storming on our lawn! They'd be dead in seconds!'

"Yeah!"

They both tilted their heads upwards. "Mmooooooooooommmmmmm!"

"Yes boys?" her muffled voice answered a couple seconds later.

"Come quick!"

"Yes dear. Stop yelling!"

"BUT IT'S IMPORTANT!" Matthew yelled.

Bobby groaned. "She's going to take forever coming down here! What if Annabeth isn't on screen then?"

Matthew made a quick decision. "I'll get her down here." He took a deep breath. "Mom! Bobby broke the fancy pottery vase!"

The sound of somebody going down steps quickened.

"Bobby!"

"I didn't do it!" Bobby cried as their mother emerged into the back room. "It's fine! I didn't even touch it! I swear!" he pointed at the vase. "See mom?"

Helen sighed. "What did you two want me for?"

"Annabeth's on TV!" Matthew grinned and pointed to their flat screen.

They watched their mother look at the screen. Dread filled Matthew shortly as he remembered just exactly what their mother though of their half-sister. Suddenly the idea didn't seem as great as it had thirty seconds ago.

"You know Percy?" Bobby asked.

Helen sighed, "Yes darling. Annabeth's friend, Percy Jackson was it? Is he on TV too?"

Matthew nervously pointed at the screen.

The three of them watched Annabeth stumble when she was almost at the limo. Percy, quick as a fox scooped her up, and led her into the car. Matthew looked up at his mother who was no doubt listening to all of the remarks that the commenter made.

Helen's face looked…squished as she listened, but then she smiled brightly.

"I'm going to call your sister. Perhaps we'll learn what on earth is exactly happening."

They nodded. "We're probably going to meet them, and even if we're not." She sighed. "I'm sure that the news will eat this up like no tomorrow. Wear some jeans without holes will you? And Matthew? Don't think I didn't see that grass stain. Change your shirt."

"Yes mom," They said as they clambered to their room looking at each other with wide eyes.

Matthew shut the door.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know!"

"You're the smart one!"

"So?"

"Mom smiled about Annabeth. Smiled!"

"It's not the end of the world!" Bobby shout-whispered back.

"Maybe for Annabeth it is!'

Bobby knocked him over his head. "Stop over reacting!" he threw his T-shirt over his head and changed it for something that was clean.

Matthew did the same with his shirt and jeans. "Do I look better?"

Bobby gave him the thumb up. "The mother parental unit will approve."

"Good." Matthew said, thumbing his shirt, "I wonder if we're going to have to dress nicely to talk to Percy now. Maybe we need to get tuxedos."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "I bet we will. I hope we'll still want to talk to us."

"Me too," Matthew gulped, "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know." Bobby said.

"I want things to be okay."

"I want Percy to skate with us."

"Do you think he has a mansion?"

Bobby nodded. "He must."

"Do you think he'll let us go there?"

"I guess so…"

Helen opened their door, "We're going to meet them at Percy's house."

"Does he live in a mansion?"

"Its downtown."

"Oh."

Helen smiled brightly though. "It's still in a place that only very wealthy people can only afford. Don't worry boys, I've talked to Argus and he says that we can meet up with them in their penthouse."

"Yes mom." They chorused, as Matthew smiled and pulled on a hoodie and put on his sneakers.

They were going downtown! Maybe even where Times Square was! Percy was super rich, so he should be living there, right? He was bouncing on his feet as their mother applied a thin layer of lipstick on. Matthew couldn't help but notice that Helen had made herself look a bit more… what was the word again? Sophisticated. That was it. She looked more sophisticated.

"I left a note for your father. I think Frederick is going to be surprised."

"Yeah! Dad's going to go crazy!"

Helen locked the door as Bobby and Matthew ran out to the street. This was amazing! He could barely sit still on the subway and their mom took too long on the subway steps as they appeared downtown New York. Despite living away from the noise and hubbub of the Big Apple they were well accustomed to the herds of yellow taxi-cabs and crowds of people.

"Woah," he breathed, looking up to the buildings that surrounded him. No longer were they just endless levels of windows. Now they were the buildings that maybe Percy lived in.

"Follow me closely," Helen said, and gripped her purse closer to her body, and pursed her lips, "I don't want you two getting lost in this crowd."

"Yes mom," they chorused, keeping careful watch of their mother's white jacket as they wove their way through the masses of the people, occasionally getting shoved without even a second glance.

"Jerk." Matthew muttered under his breath.

"Honey? Look up." Helen pointed in the air, as they stopped across the street from a blueish building that was so tall Matthew's neck hurt.

"Percy lives…there?" he asked.

"No way," his twin said, voicing his thoughts.

"Mmm hmm," Helen hummed happily, as she pointed across the street to where a camera car pulled up, and a man with a camera on his shoulder hopped out, along with a woman, holding a microphone, "It seems we're not the only ones here."

Matthew shuffled closer to his twin as he started spotting other people, milling around the doors of the condominium. Some had phones in their hands, and others, small rectangular boxes that looked like recording devices. A couple people had cameras slung around their neck as they bopped their head to music and he noticed another camera crew, holding Dunkin' Donuts coffee cups.

"Look," Bobby whispered and pointed past the newspaper photographers and equally newsthirsty people to inside the lobby, where a bunch of men and women in black suits stood, huddled together.

"Do you think..?" Matthew whispered back, "They're for…Percy?"

"I think so," his twin whispered back as their mother took their hands despite their efforts to shake her off as they crossed the road.

Helen checked her phone, "They'll be here any minute now," she muttered, "We're supposed to wait until they're in the building before we try to enter. Something about security and imposters," she shook her head, "Really, what lengths people go to these days!"

Matthew shrugged as Bobby pointed out yet another reporter, this one having a pink sticker on her phone that said Cosmopolitician.

He nervously flipped his phone around in his hoodie pocket, "What if Percy doesn't want to be near us anymore?" he asked his twin quietly, "He's so important now. Even Mom's favourite magazine is here. Why would he care about us?"

For once his twin didn't have a smartass answer waiting for him, and he looked down at the sidewalk, "I don't think he'll just forget about us, Matt. But he's going to be super busy now."

Matthew barely noticed his mother ruffle his hair comfortingly, then search around in her purse and put more lipstick on, even though her previous layer she'd applied at home hadn't worn off.

"Look," Matthew said, nudging Bobby to a small stretch limousine that was coming down the avenue, with a black van behind it.

He took a couple steps forward, almost instinctively and then suddenly all the people who'd made him think of the National Geographic and their documentary on lions waiting for their prey he'd watched in class.

The lion will wait for the right opportunity to attack its prey, having much patience with its next dinner in mind. Its instinct will help them take advantage of an opening, giving them a split second advantage on the unknowing antelope.

Like bees drawn to honey they waited in a swarm outside the limousine, cameras, microphones, and voice recorders ready. Matthew tried to slip between the cracks but he barely got through a couple people when the door clicked open and then he was assaulted by noise and was jostled by elbows and bodies.

Despite being a social animal, as they live in prides, when it comes to food it becomes difficult to maintain order. The group effort to take down the antelope has now degenerated into a squabble over the first bite.

"Mr. Olympian!"

"Mr. Jackson!"

"Do you have any comments about your parents?"

"Where have you been staying these last nine years?"

"Mr. Olympian!"

"Percy!" he cried out, hoping that he'd hear his voice over all the others but it didn't seem the case as he tried to turn around to find Bobby, only to see another reporter, neither Bobby or Helen in sight.

He was shoved again by a beefy hand that belonged to a crisp white then pure black sleeve and he looked up to see a man with a shaved head and a thick neck. He looked like he belonged in a caged wrestling match, not in a suit that looked ready to burst.

"Percy! Annie!" he cried again, as he tried to push against the wrestling suited man, and the other reporters. The people in suits he'd seen before pushed against the crowd of reporters creating a safe walking path.

"Watch it! Get outta here kid!" the wrestler said to him as he called out for his sister and Percy.

Matthew glared at him as he saw his idol to his left step out of the car, looking uncomfortable as the shouts of the reporters got louder than what he ever thought possible.

"Annie!" he cried again and by luck of the reporter pushing him from behind and him tripping on the wrestler man's shoe he fell under his arm, right in front of a man in a suit he vaguely recognized and, "Percy!" he cried.

"Matthew?" his sister said, rushing forward and helping him up, "Where's Bobby?" she said, looking around as he hugged her, glad to have his sister back no matter the cameras and lion-like reporters.

"Annie!" he heard Bobby distinct shrill to his right, and he spotted his twin behind another suited woman and reporter.

"He's right there," he pointed and the man in a suit walked over to where he pointed and nodded at the woman holding off the reporter, who pushed the reporter to the side for Bobby to break free from the crowd.

"Hiya Percy!" Matthew smiled at his sister's friend who smiled back at him, "Will you buy us a trampoline?"

Percy blinked, "Um,"

"We'll have to see what Helen says," his sister said, taking his hand, "Stay close to me, okay? Bobby?" she held out her other hand and Bobby took it, frowning at the reporters who continued to push and shove.

Matthew took Annabeth's hand in his right and looked behind him to look at another man who looked similar like the man in front of them then continued walking with Percy's hand lightly pushing him along on his shoulder as they made their way, protected by the suits to the lobby.

When the door shut behind them fully, Matthew barely heard them and he looked up to see Percy sigh in relief then look down at him, "What's up, Matt? I see you got a haircut. I like it."

Relief flooded him as he smiled back, "Thanks. I've also been skateboarding with Bobby, we're getting good. Probably better than you," he bragged and smiled when Percy shook his head and mouthed you wish.

Bobby laughed and fixed his hair underneath his New York Yankees cap, "Matt is better at rails but I can do a killer ollie!"

"Nice!" Percy saying as he high-fived them then did their special handshake they'd made before the break.

"Elevator's here," the man who still, looked very similar to him, said.

"Thanks," he said as the doors closed and Matthew felt his ears pop as he watched the numbers of the floors whiz by.

"So Percy," Bobby said, "About that trampoline…"

"We're waiting for mom to have her input on this," Annabeth said, and Matthew noticed her leaning away from Percy versus closer to him like she normally did.

"Well I could always just buy one and keep it on the roof," Percy mused, "It should be perfectly safe, right Peleus?"

The man called Peleus tipped his head to the side, "Probably. We can make it safe anyways."

"Aha!" Bobby cried, "Peleus!"

"Yes?" the man said.

"You were the guy we met at Christmas! When Matt and I drank too much before leaving so we used your house for the bathroom."

"Wait, they're been at the mansion?" Percy asked.

Peleus shrugged, "I didn't think it was important."

"Wow you have a mansion, and a penthouse?" Bobby whistled, "Damn you're rich."

"That tends to happen when you're a billionaire," Annabeth replied coolly.

"Annabeth," Percy whispered as they got out of the elevator, and went into another one as Peleus turned keys into a slot in the panel and then they started moving upwards, this time in silence as Matthew raised his eyebrows at his twin.

Percy and Annabeth were fighting.

His twin nodded slightly.

Like legit they were fighting.

The doors dinged open and Matthew's jaw dropped as he couldn't help but walk straight to the floor to ceiling windows and press his fingers to the glass. The view over Central Park was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, even on the Empire State. He wondered if he could see his house with the view he had.

Oh no.

"Mom!" he said, turning on his heel to Bobby who was slowly walking through the penthouse.

"Oh no! We forgot her!" Bobby said, "Annie, mom was with us and then the reporters!"

"I'll call her," the blonde haired man nodded and pulled out a phone.

"Oh no," Annabeth sighed and ran her hand down her face.

"Hey, it will be okay," Percy said, putting a hand on Annabeth's arm only for her to shake him off.

Oh yeah they were really fighting.

"You can stay here if you want," Percy tried again, "We can make it so Helen can't say no."

"How?" Annabeth snapped, "Just pay her off? Maybe you can lie to her because we all know how good you are at those. After all you're Mr. Percy Olympian who can do whatever he wants now, right? It's all just fun and games."

"Annabeth, I swear I was going to tell you."

"When?" she replied, "When I poured my heart out to you? Maybe when you showed me the penthouse instead of feeding me more lies? Oh, I know, maybe any other time over the past couple months."

Percy looked down at his feet, "Soon. Graduation at the latest. It was getting too hard for me to hide it and you," his eyes darted to Matthew and Bobby quickly, "you're important to me."

"Well I'm sorry, but that's really hard for me to believe right now," Annabeth said, her voice thick.

"And no matter what you believe, you're all staying put," Argus said, bringing the phone from his ear to his pocket, "Your mother has talked to us…and made things rather complicated."

"What did she do?" Annabeth asked.

"She gave an interview," Argus said slowly, "I don't know what she said on it, but until we do, and formulate our plan you two are staying put," he then looked at Matthew and Bobby, "And because of the crowd, and your mother being moved to a different location, you're staying here for the time being. Are you guys hungry?"

Annabeth shook her head, "Sorry but I'll have dinner later. I'm going to the roof for some air."

Matthew watched Percy sigh and run his hand through his hair as he watched their sister round a corner and disappear.

"Percy?" he said, cautiously.

"Yeah Matt?"

"Annie is real pissed."

"And at you specifically." Bobby followed him up.

"You kinda messed up."

Percy sat on his couch and put his face in his hands. "I know."

.o.

GotS

.o.

LUKE

Luke stared out to the city sprawl in front of him. The lights of New York always impressed him. In Tokyo, and Hong Kong, everything was simply too crowded, and polluted to actually enjoy rooftops. While New York might be the city that never slept, the honk of the ever present yellow taxis seemed to be more comforting instead of aggravating. The soft wind whipped around his lone figure on the balcony of his small but modern apartment.

He looked out and closed his eyes. Somewhere in New York, Percy Jackson, no, Percy Olympian was getting what he finally deserved. He took a sip of the beer in his hand and smiled. The plan was in motion. It was just like predicted, provide an anonymous zipped folder to several computers in major news companies and wait for them to be opened and the contents to spill like a crack in a dam. Percy Jackson was dead.

Luke breathed in deeply taking another sip of his drink.

Oh how things would be getting interesting now. So much work and planning for what would be coming in the next two months, and still, so much planning and arranging. Everything had to be perfect.

He let the wind whip through his hair for another couple moments before heading back to his kitchen, depositing the unfinished drink to the nearly empty fridge and sighed, avoiding the coffee machine, the one part of his kitchen that was used excessively to give him the productivity levels he wanted.

Weak to his addiction he turned on the machine and it buzzed to life, quickly making the cappuccino he wanted. He settled on his couch, feet up on his coffee table as he worked on his laptop, answering emails and checking the stock market, sipping from his coffee occasionally that would help him through the early morning hours. He sighed and took another sip when he heard the sound of a key entering the door of the apartment.

Who was entering? Luke slammed the lid of the laptop down and armed himself with the closest weapon he could find –a golf club, and scampered to the side of the door, ready to brain whoever came through it.

The lock jiggled again, and then he saw the handle turn. His ears were filled with a soft tune being whistled and he was assaulted by the smell of aftershave. Luke watched as he saw a black polished leather shoe appear on the hardwood flooring and he was about to swing the club, aiming for the stomach…

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I-I-" Luke stuttered, dropping the expensive golf driver.

"Hmf," he grumbled his New York accent ever present, "Where's the maid, er, Keisha! Her names' Keisha right? Where's Keisha?"

"I fired her."

"Aw, c'mon, making your old man work and hang up his own coat in his own property. If I were at the house, or the lodge, I snap my fingers and Bam! Somebody's there, asking what I need."

"I'm looking for a new one!" Luke snapped, "They're just not at the caliber that I prefer."

"Yada, yada. Have any dinner? This apartment is freaking empty. Been selling anything to stay afloat? I hear furniture's at a good price these days."

"Sorry dad," Luke frowned, "I prefer the place to be less jam packed as you like it. As for dinner, I've been eating out recently."

"Probably racking up a bill too," Hermes grunted, "Same with your phone bills." He headed for the kitchen and opened up the fridge.

"I can pay those."

"Good, 'cause you are now," he smiled as he pulled out a bottle of wine, "How old are you now Luke? Eighteen? Nineteen?"

"If you remember, I'm born in February, and it's my senior year in high school. I'm eighteen."

"Oh." He paused, "So why do you have beers and wine in your fridge? It's nice too. Château Pétrus Pomerol. French. Expensive."

Luke simply wiped a damp cloth over the kitchen island, "It's illegal to buy, possess, or drink alcohol publicly under the age of 21 here. Although it's perfectly fine to drink it under that age in your own property, with parental permission," he raised an eyebrow, "I doubt you'd be opposed to your son taking an occasional sip of some nice red wine to accompany a good New York Striploin."

Hermes searched through the drawers, looking for the cork puller, and nodded at his son, "Can't argue with that."

"How's mother?" Luke asked, his blue eyes staring into the dark brown, almost black eyes of his dad.

"Same. She doesn't like visitors." Hermes snapped his lips shut, effectively closing the subject.

"Why'd you show up?" Luke asked again.

"I felt like it."

He almost laughed.

"I was in town." Hermes clarified.

Hermes never even looked at Luke, unless there was a specific reason for it. Normally, it was either because he was testing him, asking for a favor, or insulting his only son. Luke smiled. "I didn't hear."

"Yeah," Hermes took a sip of the expensive French wine, "Ah," he smiled. "The deal with those stupid Koreans busted up. Didn't want anything to do with me, or our company. So I left early."

"Ah," Luke smiled. Unbeknownst to Hermes, those 'stupid Koreans' already had a deal with the Castellan Clan. They had a deal with Luke, and Hermes had been left out. He would have looked like a fool, not that he needed to know.

"It's a great country though," Hermes grinned as he plopped his body down on the white couch. The wine came dangerously close to spilling, "I love it. Technology everywhere, people, lights, you name it." He pointed to the window, "They say this is the city that never sleeps?" he waved his hand, "Yeah, well it ain't the only one."

Luke nodded.

"So, what you up to these days?" Hermes' New Yorker drawl came out even more with this sentence.

"Nothing much."

"Hm." Another grunt, "I don't believe it. You're in the thick of things, aren't you?"

Instead of snapping at the bait, Luke left it, and sat down on a chair, farthest away from the couch, yet still in the general vicinity, "Not really."

Hermes laughed. "Sure, sure, son! Just like your old pops, aren't you? Getting in the thick of things, rising to the top! THAT'S's why I like you."

Luke smiled thinly, "Thanks dad."

He took another sip, and calmed down, "Really though, what's up?"

"Why?" Luke replied, dodging the question.

"What's wrong with your dear dad wanting to know more about his son?"

"What's wrong with asking how I was four months ago?"

"What's wrong with me being busy with work?"

"What's wrong," Luke glowered, "With taking ten minutes out of your day for one measly little phone call?"

Hermes must have been in a good mood, since he just sighed, and took another sip, "It slipped my mind. I'm busy."

"I can guess. Just caught up with everything? New deals, new people? New marketing plans?"

"Bit of this, bit of that," Hermes responded, never clarifying.

"Huh."

"Yeah."

There was a long silence, and you could only hear the soft sound of the air-conditioning.

"So…" Hermes said, "I actually came here for a reason."

Knew it.

"I need a favor."

"What type?"

Hermes sat up, his face completely different. While he was always blunt, bordering rude, he was smart, and intelligent. Normally, he just didn't care to show it. "Stocks."

"Stocks?"

"Andy –your stock broker- just called me, saying that some pretty big transactions just happened. He gets automated warning like that. What's up?"

"I got some insider advice."

Hermes coughed.

"It's trustworthy."

There was another stare down between the two generations of Castellan men. "Fine. What you do, is your business. But," he waggled his thick index finger, "If you end up making money, I need you to take care of some of my stocks."

"Why?"

There was a significant growl in his voice, "With that pretty-boy Olympians' kid coming back from six feet under, things have gone a little haywire."

"Tell me about it."

"I've noticed something about their company too. While their front is doing a mediocre job, there's something fishy going on. Random accounts own about 90% of the shares, and I did some investigating," Hermes took another sip of his wine, "And almost of them lead to false names -which is illegal, but so many Wall Street assholes do it and people like us it's like accusing somebody of jaywalking."

"So what are you getting at?" Luke leaned forward, interested. This was important information.

"Basically, if one person owns all these stocks under false names, they own the company. And they're making billions of dollars yearly because of their daily transactions. Whoever this is, is probably about as rich as Bill Gates. We're talking serious money here."

"No shit," Luke frowned, deep in thought.

"But there's just one thing that's the real thing that's bugging me."

"Oh?" Luke asked, smiling how the blatant fraud didn't bother Hermes but instead something different.

"They're always on point with their stocks. Perfect –and listen to me carefully Luke." He enunciated each word, "Nobody. Is. Perfect."

"But this person is."

"It's like they can see into the future, they rarely slip up, and even if they do, they were still pretty much on target. I'll give you an example of a couple weeks ago?"

"Sure."

"This mystery guy –let's call him Mr. S, okay? Mr. S has a substantial amount of shares in this hydroelectric company, and then the next morning, they're all gone, and transferred to this solar energy company. When the numbers come around, it shows that for the hydroelectric company, its shareholding went down 1.08. It was at 12.62 before it fell. What's the kicker is that he never had too many shares in the hydroelectric company to raise red flags. Him selling all his shares didn't do jack shit to the company."

"Wow."

"But that solar company? It went up from 186.43 to 201.08. Mr. S just made several thousands, with a couple clicks on a computer." Hermes looked at Luke for his reaction, "It's impossible."

"But it's happening as we speak."

"How?" Hermes pressed.

"I don't know." Luke laughed, "Super powers?"

"Fat chance," Hermes shook his head, "But back to my main point. This guy is following the market like he's it's shadow, so it's impossible to follow him, so forget about him. I'm concerned about how I'm like every other shmuck, who had no clue what the market will do. I lost some money recently, investing in buying shares and I need you to get it back. You know, show that if somebody takes from us, it doesn't matter because we'll have double that by tomorrow."

As much as he hated Hermes, Luke had to admire his drive. He was as greedy as the Grinch; penny-pinching, but as equally happy to spend money on extravagances. The difference was between losing money, and spending it.

"So I propose a little deal. I won't interfere with any of your deals or shares or trades or whatever," Hermes waves his hand, "And if you come out of them making a good bit of cash, then I'll let you manage some of my shares. Let's say one third. You get twenty-five percent of whatever you make using my shares. Deal?"

Luke had to smile at how Hermes made it sound completely amazing that he would be allowed to take care of stocks, but he smiled, "Deal."

"Shake on it."

They both held out their right hands, and shook. Firmly.

"You have a good handshake," Hermes commented, "Good."

Luke scowled, "Anything else?"

Hermes stopped for a moment, "No. Anything good on TV? Haven't watched a good baseball game in a long time."

"You can see what's on, I'm going to retire to bed soon, after I finish a couple emails" he said, picking up his laptop and his coffee cup, mourning the coffee that had gone cold.

"Okay." Hermes said absentmindedly, already staring at the screen with the remote in his hand, looking for something to watch.

Luke frowned, as he walked to his room, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Hermes had lost interest in him as he closed his door and opened up his laptop, only to see his email inbox icon on the right side of the screen blink. A small popup bubble informed he had a new message.

Luke didn't turn his head, but his eyes darted around his room. No, it couldn't be, could it?

He clicked on the popup bubble.

The email opened up.

SUB: Share Holdings
FROM:

You will follow the next instructions over the next week, and provide input as necessary. If I help you with your father, it coincidentally happens to help you. And by extension, me.

I'm always listening.

Yes oh yes. Excellent start to the third and final Arc.

I mean Percabeth evidently in rough tides?
Luke reveling in Percy's reveal…and possibly the cause of it?
Not to mention who he's emailing…

Let's just say that things are going to get rough. :)

Please remember to:
Follow: to join this family of long update times and complicated plots
Favourite: if you like this crazy story
and
Review: if you love this story and if you're wondering just what is going on!

Peace Out!

Stads