No need to know

Chapter 1: George Kennedy

"The CEO of Sunset Resorts and Casinos is declared dead. His body was discovered in a dump next to his night club. Behind me is the crime scene; we will try to get a better look at it but do mind viewers discretion!

Officer! Please would you mind shedding some light on the situation!? The public is truly frightened by this incident and want an answer."

The reporter looks at the cop expectantly.

"Uh...No mam sorry-"

Before the officer could finish his statement, a man dressed in a suit pushes him aside and comes forward.

"I am the lead detective of this case. As a matter of fact, we do have information. We have decided to let the public know that there is a common variable here matched with past cases... which signifies that this is the work of a serial killer. What makes this killer distinguishable is the fact that he plants snake bites on his victims, we have identified this type of snake, it is a Viper. If anyone knows somebody who possesses a Viper or has shown peculiar interest and behavior in snakes then please contact and inform the police right away, I am prohibited from providing anymore intel. Good day mam."

The reporter's face falters slightly as she takes the mic from the detective's hand and concludes today's news.

I turn off the tv with disappointment after receiving a notification of a bank transfer.

I'm not one to get mad when someone miss pronouns me but Damn. That delivered a blow to my pride. Was this too shabby of a crime to be considered a man's work? 

Last night reminded me of the delightful red-riding hood tale...except red-riding hood never left the cottage ever again. Dear CEO fell into my set trap, the one I so sublimely laid for him to lure him out of his little hole.

Let's relive the scene, shall we?

The club sprang into complete chaos after I triggered the fire alarm, there was only 10 minutes to get my shit done and screw the f*ck out of here and back in the arms of my bed. First thing I did of course was down the tequila shot in my hand like the James bond I was because why not. Ending the gesture with an immediate strut to the entrance of the private lounge, aware of each and every person wavering in my space as I did not need a repeat of what happened in the Bahamas job where my lung cavities were almost blown out of proportion when I forgot to pay attention to the throng of people that were shoving past me on the street in a parade.

It was a close call; I had barely escaped with my life that day and as a result received a scar that has not left my body since... But hey, it has been 2 years, I was a reckless nutcracker who didn't listen to my commander's safety protocols. I was just a child. Am a child.

There were two men in black rushing through the entrance towards me which wasn't a problem but was a problem because I forgot my daggers back at the penthouse. Just bloody great stella, you're a genius. Now I was in a situation where I had to get physical in this tight dress which was very much not preferred.

"Hey, do you guys have any idea where the fire exit is, because I don't think I'm going the right way..."

The guy on the right gave me a confused expression, the left one simply ran faster towards me as the exit was quite literally behind them with a bright exit sign. Oh well, points for trying!

My leg front kicks the first guard the moment he reaches my zone, sending him flying into his partner. The two idiots bash into each other hard, forming a temporary blockade in the middle of the narrow hallway. Damn these clubs, I swear what obsession do they have with making hallways narrow. "Sorry...oops concussion" My feet stomp on top of the human pile, not missing their heads as they try to get up, "not sorry." It wasn't getting physical that I was worried about, it was the dress because now it's torn. "I literally just bought you yesterday though."