I'd kill for you

Part 1: Cherry Chapstick

My red stiletto heals click on the pavement as I walk into the dingy low-lit room he calls his base, pathetic. I knock on the door, three times, his eyes widen at the sight of my beautiful jet black pistol.

"I know what you're thinking" I tell him
"It really is a beautiful pistol" , I smile at his face which is turning pale

"You're insane" he whispers hoarsely

"I'm afraid not" I say but he can't hear me, three bullet marks decorate his chest staining his black suit crimson red.

My name is Ophelia, no last name because I don't belong to anyone and no regrets because it's just a job.
My job as a private assassin.
I'm not ashamed of what I do, after all I only end the pitiful lives of the vermin of the city. I kill the ones that the government forgets, the abusive husbands who beat their wives, the rapists and the undetected murderers who kill for pleasure.
Maybe you disapprove of my job?
Please, do you really think I care?

The man I killed was Sir Arnoldsten, funny how the low scum of society hide behind such noble titles. Sir Arnoldstens idea of fun was to torture children he found sleeping on the street, homeless. After all, who's going to notice a few less orphans on the streets. Well, I did.

I down a shot of whiskey, smudging my carefully applied cherry red lipstick, and turn on the news. I've been feeling so paranoid lately, as if someone is watching me, honestly I just really need to relax. A lot of people are out to get me, I'm not an idiot, I know that.
They, unfortunately,don't share the same opinion that the world would be a better place without the sick bastard elites who take advance of the system.

-Breaking news-
Mr Charles Anderson becomes richest man in America today, aged only 21.
CEO of technological advancement, founder of many charities and president of the American bank.
Question is, what will he do next?

Some people really do have it all handed to them on a platter, I think to myself watching as the tv shows a close up of his face, styled black raven coloured hair and eyes that are a cold blue, like ice.
All of the Andersons are born into a wealthy and good looking family, it's their kind that I kill the most of.
They think they can escape the police and government because of their money and status, but they've never been able to escape me.

Th doorbell rings suddenly, my pepperoni pizza awaits me, thank god.
As I lift up the lid I see something that was not part of my order, a letter addressed to 'Miss Ophelia'.
How have they found me? I must have been careless coming home, I shudder at the thought.
I turn around quickly but no one is there, I thought someone was watching me and now my suspicions have been confirmed. I start to read

'To Miss Ophelia,
We are in dire need of your excellent services , meet us at the nearest subway station at 3am. The unusually late timing is necessary for this job to remain its high degree of secrecy, we hope you understand. A generous sum of money shall be allocated to your account should you wish to agree.
Thank you
The Andersons'

The Andersons? What do they want with my so called 'services'?
Fine, I will go to the meeting but if they think that they can just turn me into another cog of their money making machine, they have the wrong girl.