It would be lucrative, they said.

Gloved fingers adjust a pair of high-tech focals, peering at her target miles away.

It would be easy, they said.

The woman pursed her lips in pure annoyance. Of all the dirty things she was willing to overlook for a fat stack of cash…

This was probably the stupidest thing she’s ever done.

Selina Kyle had no problem with stealing. In fact, it was very much her lifestyle. In the wee hours of twilight, the woman donned a skin tight costume to assume the role as Catwoman. Sometimes it seemed surreal—like folklore that people would exchange when feeling incredibly gossipy. A woman who dressed up like a cat, who could get into any locked establishment. Then…she cleaned them out. Not a dime left in place.

The stories were heavily exaggerated, of course. Selina would rather swipe jewels than cash, though both had their strong points. Taking cash was messy. It was traceable. Valuables were different. Many people never insured them, or even kept decent records. They could be sold, melted down, reattached to a different setting…there were so many more possibilities. Much easier than attempting to clean filthy money.

And then there was…this.

Selina withdrew the focals from her line of sight. For several hours she’d been scouting a posh neighborhood filled with celebrities and music artists. A gated community, it was difficult to simply go in and out without being questioned by a portly guard. The home she focused on sat upon a hill, with an elongated driveway and a garage that could probably fit dozens of luxury vehicles.

The Cat branched into the business of repossession. Not quite her forte, but something she was coaxed into by a fellow baddie. Repossession didn’t seem to be the right word to use—though she did so to make her work seem that much more legit. A more accurate word would be /theft/. If there were missed payments, Selina would never know. She was given a list of vehicles, their plate numbers, their colors…after that, she was on her own. Retrieve them however she could, were her orders. The less damage when it arrives the better. The bigger the payout.

Lucrative, it might be. The kitten would be lying if she said she didn’t make a pretty penny on these swipes. The cars were all high-end desirables and as a result, the payouts were massive. Thousands of dollars was not a rare paycheck. And with a vacation to the beautiful Greece coming up soon, Selina could never refuse extra spending money.

Retreating from her obscure peering spot, the Cat figured that she’d need a plan to not only infiltrate the high-class neighborhood, but to get the car out of there in one piece. A bit of research beforehand turned up a generic profile of her target. A music artist with an affinity for sneakers, Fiona has a massive social media following—one that also followed her career and music releases. A high-profile target was always risky. While the average rich Joe wouldn’t make the news, someone like Fiona would. Selina’s saving grace was the fact that it didn’t seem like the woman travelled with an entourage of bodyguards. While that seemed like a good opportunity superficially, that also raised the Cat’s ears. If someone of her stature didn’t need security, it meant that she could pack enough punch on her own. She’d have to exercise some extreme caution and fight back if necessary.

Settling onto her own motorbike, Selina decided she’d hit in the midnight hour. Less traffic, less eyes, and an increased likelihood of getting away with it. She had a plan to bypass security that Selina hoped would go as plotted out. Revving up her engine she sped away to her own home. To plan further, to prepare, and to groan that this would be the last time she’d get herself into this nonsense.