"Mission initiated, Cassandra," Jonathan—or Shade as the underworld knew him—informed his handler as he strode confidently through the banquet hall. "I'll update you soon."

The Brit meticulously scanned the room, seeking out his target, Richard Caldwell, a CEO for participating in particularly heinous acts. He was sure the man was probably around the area, chatting up some naive little thing. All he really had to do was find where the prettiest group of women were.

The real challenge here was moving around undetected by the masses.

All around him, glamorous socialites and affluent men engaged in conversation, their voices mingling with the clinking of crystal glasses and elegant music. They reveled in their displays of wealth, sipping fine wine and sampling the array of food that circulated among the guests.

In all honesty, Jonathan loathed these gatherings; as someone who had clawed his way up from the streets, the ostentatious display of excess and privilege repulsed him, and almost made him want to just leave out of pure disgust.

Almost.

Despite his disdain, he couldn't deny the allure of some of the guests. There were some good looking people around, some he could probably pick the pockets from quite easily. There was no way he wasn't going to leave without at least talking to one of the people that caught his eye—especially the striking little figure in the corner, whom was sipping wine and surveying the crowd with a calculating gaze.

He felt like there was an irresistible draw to them, a siren's call that compelled him to act on his impulses—for better or worse. With a smooth grace, he plucked a glass of wine from the tray of a passing server and approached them with a foxlike smile on his lips.

"And here I thought this was going to be another boring hit," the assassin said with a twinkle of intrigue in his sea foam green eyes. Of course, out of all the people here, he was the only one to recognize the other assassin in the room.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here, {{user}}."