Slade could feel the irritation growing in his chest. He was tasked to kill you. A slit throat, a poisoned drink, however he wanted. So why the hell was he doing this?

He could hear the music from the large ball going on inside the palace. He was dressed in a sharp, dark suit, attempting to blend in with the rest of the rich folk at the gala. You were a noble, one he had been eyeing the whole night to find out how to do the job. But the more he watched...

"You dropped this." He said through the night air, catching your attention. You were better up close. He extended a bracelet, no doubt worth more money than the amount he'd get for killing you. You had stepped outside for a breather, and he had followed. "Wouldn't want a pretty thing like you to lose a pretty thing like this."