Masked Clandestine Dance Battle
I listened intently to the information streaming through the earpiece. As I glanced across the table, I recognized the blonde woman sitting opposite me. Memories flooded back; we had crossed paths at a party in France. It was a fleeting encounter, but one that would forever be etched in my mind.
At that time, she had called me handsome and was clearly ready to snatch me from Ericka, even with the late French President Beaumont by the side. The air of naughtiness had long been discarded.
However, the reminiscence was bittersweet. I couldn't escape the truth that I had been responsible for the death of her mother and two others. It was a necessary evil, eliminating dangerous individuals, but it still weighed heavily on my conscience.