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Author's Note (also abbreviated AN)
Text messages (with character names in front of message)
Character's thoughts

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AN: Plot Trigger Warnings: Murder, drug addiction, domestic violence, and overdose mentioned/depicted

AN: Plot Trigger Warnings: Murder, drug addiction, domestic violence, and overdose mentioned/depicted

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Fiona

I'm currently in Paris at a charity event. My target is one of the attendees. Max Greenwood: Son of the late millionaire Fredrick Greenwood. He just a bought soccer team and a small island with his newly inherited money. In short, he's cocky and a bit reckless. Taking him out will be easy. First I've got to get close to him. I grab a glass of champagne from the waiter and walk over to him. Instead of saying hello, I breeze past him, making sure to lightly bump into him.

"Hey watch where you're-. Well hello there. And who might you be?" He greets. A wide grin forms on his lips.

"Evelyn Stillwell. And you are?" I ask coyly.

"Maxwell Greenwood. I'm surprised you haven't heard of me."

"I'm new in town. From Tennessee." I state. My southern accent isn't the best but I doubt a rich kid from Essex can even tell.

"I've never been to the states. You'll have to tell me all about it tonight."

"Tonight?"

"At my table of course. I've got an extra spot and you'd fill it out nicely." He explains, slowly looking me up and down. He gives me his arm and leads me away from his friends.

"I'm flattered but I'd feel awful taking you away from your friends." I protest as I gesture to the group of businessmen nearby.

"Oh please you'd be saving me. They bore me to death. I already have to deal with them during this event so a night off is a relief."

When we sit down someone comes by to confirm his order. He makes sure to tell them not to bring the peanut dish. He's deathly allergic. Something I'm well aware of. While he talks my ear off, I plan how I'll slip the peanut oil in his food or drink. It's too risky to do it while the food is at the table so I'll have to intercept the waiter before it gets to the table. I'll need an excuse to leave when they start bringing the food out.

His business partners arrive at the table and start up their conversation once more. While they talk, he and I play footsie. Once I notice the waiters are starting to bring out the food, I slide out the vial from under my dress.

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