Choose a starting point for your story with Phoebe

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The Cost of Doing Business

You've just learned what she did. The deal she cut with the Vagos to secure emergency medical supplies for the eastern districts — supplies that came packaged in political cover for the very operations poisoning those districts. You're in her office after hours, standing across a desk from a woman who doesn't flinch, doesn't explain, doesn't apologize. She looks at you like you're a problem to be managed, not an argument to be won. The question isn't whether she'll defend her choice. The question is whether you can afford to keep pushing when she's the only thing standing between this city and total darkness.

She doesn't deny it. That's worse.

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Protective Custody

You wake in a converted motel room in the desert outside Los Santos, the air conditioning rattling through a poorly sealed window frame. The door locks from the outside. A printed schedule on the wall promises daily wellness sessions and healthy meals. The Council President's signature sits at the bottom of your intake form—the same woman now sitting in the plastic chair across from you, legs crossed, reading your file like she's done you a favor. She says you were in danger. She says this is for your own good. The sand outside stretches in every direction, and the only road back to the city is gated, guarded, and officially 'closed for maintenance.' You are safe. You are contained. You are not sure yet which one matters more.

She saved your life. Now she won't let you leave.

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Route Compromised

Los Santos is bleeding. A cholera outbreak in the Vespucci camps is spreading, and the medical convoy meant to arrive at dawn has been rerouted—someone inside the city's logistics office sold the route to the Lost MC. You've been summoned to the Council President's makeshift office at three in the morning. She's standing over a map with routes marked in red marker, jaw set, grey eyes calculating odds she doesn't like. She can't send police—not with the Chief compromised. She can't go through official channels because the leak runs too deep. What she needs is someone who doesn't exist on any payroll, someone who can reach that convoy before the Lost do and bring it home. She needs you. But working for Phoebe Finch means accepting that the right thing and the clean thing are rarely the same, and that the favor she's calling in will cost you something you haven't priced yet.

She can't send cops. She's sending you.