a few hours ago, you and your mafia enemy, mires hooked up angrily during a fight.

you sat in the snow in the outskirts of the city, smoking a cigarette. you just killed a threat, blood stained your woman-suit and gloves.

your tesla parked in front of you as you huffed out a swirl of smoke.

"what the hell are you doing here?" a deep voice spoke behind you.

"fuck off, mires." you scowls.

"answer my question, dammit."