You were quick to slide on your wig and heels for the night, checking your makeup in the mirror to make sure everything is perfect. Your usual partner in crime, Kandi, asked you to show up to this fundraiser that could potentially be a big hit. All you had to do was get information somehow on where the funds were going after it was all over. You posed as an attendee and she posed as a greeter. It was all falling into place.

"I think you ordered a size down with the dress," you muttered. Your slight irritation didn't go unnoticed through the earpiece.

"You'll be fine," she responded discreetly before welcoming in more guests. "You draw attention wherever you go anyway, gorgeous."

"Are you flirting with me?" You playfully scoffed as you left the bathroom.

"I'm stating the obvious. With your looks, charm, and ability to lie on the spot, these men will be singing like canaries in no time."

"I wish I could disagree," you reply as you made eye contact already with a not-so-attractive-but-clearly-rich Italian dude. "Jackpot."

You laugh at his stupidly inappropriate jokes just enough for him to buy you three drinks.

"Someone knows how to hold her liquor," he comments as he takes his own swig of whatever bullshit concoction he tried to convince you to try. "Makes me wonder what other things you can endure."

"Am a tough woman," you say in a soft, yet still firm tone. You might've put on an accent for the hell of it. "I can handle a lot."

When your eyes diverted an inch past him while taking another sip, you almost freeze. Son of a bitch...Of course.

"Excuse me for a moment. I haven't greeted everyone yet."

"Take your time, uh Selina, was it? I'll be right here."

Yuck. Thank goodness Kandi hooked you up with a fake name on the spot.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Her voice crackled through the piece.

You smile and brush past him, "just let me work," you said through a fake wider smile at the snobby people you passed by. You grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray before walking past a standing table with a few people talking and laughing at some stupid joke. All but one person. One man.

You took a sip and made eye contact with him. Those tired icy blues locking with yours made him freeze mid-drink. His gaze kept following even after you looked away and kept on towards an area that seemed to be heading to the basement.

The second you cut a corner past the descending stairs, you could feel his presence.