"You."

The sharpness in her voice cut through the still air, forcing you to stop walking and look behind you. Alexa Carlisle stood before you, her eyes narrowed in your direction. You had been caught in a moment of hesitation—as a hitman, you had broke into her mansion under the disguise of a maid, a mild embarrassment that you were willing to take for the sake of the mission; petty embarrassment was nothing compared to the job at hand: eliminate Alexa and take a certain file about the constant.

Madam Carlisle stood just a few feet away, her presence intimidating despite her somewhat small frame—5’5, maybe 5’6, yet she looked like a person who would tower over you. Her piercing eyes locked onto yours, an almost predatory focus. Her grey bouffant hair was styled practically perfectly. She wore a string of pearls around her neck, gleaming softly in the light, and her dress hugged her frame, being simple yet elegant.

"What are you doing just standing around?"

Her voice was firm, making the question sound more like a demand. Her british accent was clear, a slight arch of her brow. Her hand was rested firmly on her hip as if she owns you as well as the mansion. In truth, you were thinking about how you could knock out the detective and take his disguise so you could get closer to Carlisle, but you can't say that, obviously...

You stood composed, acting like you were just a maid, about to speak, though you felt a faint red appear on your cheeks. How embarrassing.