10

He watched her as she moved through the crowd. She had a smile on her face as she mixed and mingled with the rest of the party goers. He never had trouble finding her, to him; she always stood out no matter how hard she tried to blend in, his eyes always found her. He raised his glass to his lips as she continued to move. To everyone else she appeared to be a social butterfly but as a trained individual he saw her clever tactic of moving ever so slightly to the hidden passage way that would lead to his hideaway office. He watched as she slipped past the door and sighed before lifting the decanter to top off his glass of scotch.

This drink may or may not be his last.

9

She sighed as she slithered away from the festivities and into the silent corridor. No guards, no traps, just a little light and a stairway that would lead her to the end of her job. She pulled her hair up into a bun, marveling briefly at how beautiful her dress reflected the light in the corridor but the primary reason for her dress choice and what the dress concealed drove any frivolous emotion. She wasn't the one for glitz but given the occasion, she donned the dress to fit in. She took a steady breath before ascending the stairs. There was no turning back from this now; after all, this was all she knew. She was born and bred to perform these jobs and she could not mess it up, especially when she had felt two pairs on her instead of one.

Both her predator and her prey were here tonight.

8

He puffed out a cloud of smoke as his eyes trailed to the second hideaway office on the opposite wall. The tinted black one way glass offered no suggestion of who was inside, not that he needed it, he knew it was the person who thirsted for his blood since he crossed the lines. He brought the cigar to his lips and drew in some of the foul smoke. Since that faithful day a year ago, he pondered how his enemy would achieve his revenge. He got his answer a week later as a girl showed up at the club's door enquiring about the vacant bartender position. His underboss and consigliere had handled the interview and background checks which came back clean. In keeping with protocol he arranged a meeting, a month after she began working to assess her himself and right off the bat he could see the emotions and thoughts she hid beneath her happy façade. He watched her every night after that, sorting façade from truth and he caught on to her game. He exhaled slowly as his eyes focused on the hideaway office again.

Tonight the game ends.

7

As she ascended the stairs quietly in her heels, she reflected on the last year which she spent undercover. It was the longest time she had ever spent undercover, usually she would get the job done in a couple of months but her boss kept her there in the enemy's ranks. She stopped and closed her eyes to steady herself. Were they...was he really the enemy? From the moment they met she knew she could not hide anything from him. His eyes seemed to pierce straight through her cover. She decided to keep up her façade, if she got caught; she was caught. But the year passed without incident and surprisingly she settled down, she actually enjoyed working at the club and she even made friends. What? It would be suspicious if she spent the year without talking to some fellow employees. She also learned the ways of the organisation that operated at the club and she could not help comparing it to the one she belonged to. They were more of a family; he treated everyone pleasantly, as if they were related by blood.

Well so it seemed, at least he did not beat you bloody at any given moment.

6

He closed his eyes, savouring the combined effects of the alcohol and cigar smoke. Suddenly images danced beneath his eyelids and he smiled. Images of her flashed, her genuine smiles when her favourite songs played in the club, how she would dance as she weave through the crowds to serve guests, how her bangs would fall out of her ponytail or bun repeatedly to the point she would leave her hair loose so it fell down to her waist. He opened his eyes and leaned back in his chair. No woman ever seized his mind and attention like her; all they wanted from him was money and sex. She was different. He saw the signs in her, the signs of someone who was strong for too long. She did not deserve the life she was born into. He played his cards well; he kept playing with his enemy so that her stay with them would be prolonged. He wanted to show her that what she knew wasn't everything, that their lifestyle was so much more.

That a life with him could be so much more.

5

Her thoughts were a whirlwind as she continued up to the office. She reviewed everything she knew about him but to her surprise, her thoughts held relevance to the task at hand. She remembered how his eyes followed her as she worked through the night, how he always requested her to serve his drinks, how the briefest of his touches did not make her flinch but instead set tingles afire on her skin. Undoubtedly she felt something for him but she couldn't embrace such feelings, he was the enemy. Was he? He had showed her kindness and made her feel comfortable. He paid for her accommodations, was more than generous with her freedom, he had even ordered his men not to treat her in the same manner they would treat other female employees or patrons. He included her in some of the organization's transactions and deals, even heeding some of her advice. Her breath caught in her chest as the door came into view. The absence of guards and security measures already told her that he knew her intentions.

But what are his?

4

His eyes flickered up as the door opened letting her in. Their eyes met, both finding comfort in the action but neither said anything. His eyes fell from hers and slowly scanned her body from head to toe, drinking in the beauty of the woman standing before him. He smirked as he saw the faintest of pink on her cheeks. He had not missed her doing the same actions to him. The chemistry between the two was almost tangible and he longed to close the distance and give in to his emotions but he addressed the elephant in the room. He exhaled one last puff of smoke before grinding the cigar butt into the ash tray on the table before standing up and leaning on the front of the desk.

"So," he murmured looking at her, "you've come to kill me."

3

"I have," she replied softly. She knew she was safe with him despite the gun tucked in the holster on his waist. He would never hurt her, if he wanted to, he would have already.

He chuckled, "I see no gun, humour me; I would like to see my cause of death." She sighed before pulling out bits and pieces from her hair, purse, shoes and hidden pockets in her dress. Soon she had assembled in her hands a gold Desert Eagle hand gun. He looked at her, awe and praise evident on his face, it made her heart smile.

"Here I was thinking you were wearing that dress to stun me speechless tonight," he said light-heartedly.

"I never have those intentions," she said truthfully.

"I know but the same effect is achieved." She felt her cheeks warm up and dropped her eyes from his gaze. His look of adoration made her skin feel as if it was on fire.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" She looked up at him. No façade, no cover up, just her. The person only he could draw out.

"Isn't the answer simple?" her voice broke as her hand holding the gun dropped to her side.

"I can't" she whispered.

2

He contemplated his next action. He knew what they wanted was dangerous and it'd be a long time before the consequences of his plan would pass but he would keep her safe. He didn't want her to suffer anymore. He smiled at her, something only she saw, something only she could elicit from him. He took her hand and they stood together side by side.

"What do you see?" he asked reaching for the decanter of scotch and his glass again. She frowned as her eyes traveled down to the party where a sea of sequined dresses and a tide of tuxedos huddled in front the stage as midnight approached.

"Not there," he chuckled. "Directly across us," her eyes snapped up, "is an office just like this one; its occupants positioned just like us." He leaned close to whisper in her ear, "but the only difference between us and them is that their glass is not bulletproof."

He heard her intake of breath before sipping from his glass. He heard the safety of her gun flick off and he smirked before doing the same. Putting the glass down, he pressed the button that activated the moving glass panel. A tirade of voices filled the air as the oblivious patrons counted down to the New Year. Adrenaline coursed through their veins as the panel slid back perfectly and they took aim.

"ONE!" shouted the partygoers.

1

The resounding noise of celebration and fireworks perfectly concealed the noise of two gunshots, the two bullets piercing the glass and embedding themselves in centre of their targets' foreheads. Her ex-boss and the backup assassin in the other room were dead. She let go the breath that she did not know she held in as the panel slid back into place. She looked at him, her saviour, as he called for a clean-up. She dismantled her gun again returning the pieces to their places. 

He chuckled before returning his gun to holster. She smiled and laughed lightly as the euphoria of gaining freedom from her past and the prospect of a brighter future washed over her. He smiled before taking her hand and pulling her closer to him. His body welcomed her warmth and sang in the joy of being able to hold her so close. His hand reached up and gently pulled her hair out of the bun before his fingers ran through the silky strands slowly and appreciatively. She looked down to hide her reaction to his gestures. He chuckled before tilting her head up by her chin gently. 

"Let's join the party, I believe we have more than one reason to celebrate," he held out his left arm to her and smiled again as she slipped her right arm in.

This was going to be the beginning of something new.  

Author's note

Outfit: 

http://www.polyvore.com/final_countdown/set?id=184993936 

Aftermath has been added as an External Link