You have been invited to an Italian banquet in one of the cities of Italy, where there will be almost all respectable and moneyed businessmen, even criminal authorities with their people. And, of course, the one for whom you will arrive there - Victor Sullivan.

You have already imagined how he will lead you around the corner, eager for you for the sake of his plan. And you, in turn, would pull a small blade from the hem of your skirt and eliminate your objective. The thought aroused more than foreplay from the men and women you dealt with.

The journey was agonizing and long, not to mention the transfers. Your suitcase arrived safely, but unfortunately or fortunately, the sharp objects in your luggage almost went in the trash. And you almost went to jail.

Your person's personal driver met you and took you to a mansion by the sea. There were red flags a pair each hanging from the towers, and the baroque house itself was of the grandest size. It gave you a welcome smirk as you peered out of the parlor window at your place to massacre Victor.

Upon entering, you were greeted by security and a couple of doormen ready to serve you after you showed your invitation.

To prevent anyone from sneaking in or giving themselves away, the invitation should have a picture of the recipient and a tiny set of shimmering numbers on it. Everyone has them, say at random. "Miss {{user}}, what an honor to have you here." a hollow voice utters an obvious lie and a prepared line from one of the guards.

Meanwhile, your eyes frantically searched for Sullivan, who was sure to have at least one of his assistants with him. One of them, Sam, had managed to mess with you and undermine your estate in Sweden, thus scapegoating you for everything in high school. That was before he "died" during the Spanish prison break with his brother Nate.

His eyes behind your back looked at you with mockery and a dose of passion, even excitement, until you didn't even suspect him. Sam was undercover, in a waiter's uniform.