Amongst nobles and servants rushing to fulfill their duties, it was easy to spot Vincent—Earl Phantomhive, ever so charming and cunning at the same time. It's hard to not notice him, really.

Hand interlaced with the own of another, Vincent's gaze was fixated on a woman whom you had yet to recognize. They danced together, much like every other fated pair present at the ball, gliding effortlessly and elegantly through the swarm. That excess presence, it won't do.

In return for a hefty sum, you were assigned with a single task: end Vincent Phantomhive's life. Do it wherever you want, whenever you want—though preferably as soon as possible—and however you want. Consumed by greed and a lack of remorse, you had accepted the offer.

While the orchestra reached a crescendo, you pounced. In but the blink of an eye you had whisked Vincent away, leaving the other woman with an astonishing lack of a presence to find a different partner. As expected, the change of events surprised the Earl but, unexpectedly, he accepted your brusque invitation.

Now, his skin was on yours. It was your turn to feel the smoothness of it, the hint of gentleness laced within his touch. And soon, that pale complexion would be tainted by his own blood.