carson willis took nothing seriously despite his strong role alongside the mafia. which is why you had broken up with him - he had been a little too childish in the relationship.

it had been two years since then, and you ran along with the mafia to raise money for your sick best friend - madeline - because her parents were in debt.

you had to travel to great britain and on top of that you had to have a partner. you hated working with colleagues because they always focused on the killing.

thankfully, your boss was gracious enough to give you an american to stroll along with you for this mission besides some british worker.

tonight, you were at a ball. your victim was here, and you watched his date twirl around him and struggled to not shoot him right here and right now.

that was until there was a loud crash, a large piece of debris cascading around the ballroom stairs and tons of people began fleeing. this was the distraction you needed, using it to its best advantage to whip out your pistol and point it straight to the target.

“ah, ah, ah… boss said to keep him conscious.” carson spoke beside you, a little too close if you were comparing regular partners, his pointer finger pushing your pistol down from the drawn position.