"Took you long enough", a deep female voice rasped, causing Michael to turn his gaze to see a tall brunette woman, who seemed to be in her mid-forties, her curly hair reaching her shoulder, standing at the top of the pristine glass staircase. Clad in an immaculate black tight dress, flaunting her beautiful tan skin, she glided over the spiral staircase, a glass of vintage scotch in her hand.

"I got stuck in the traffic, Mrs. Styles. I assure you that it won't happen again." Michael apologised as he smiled warmly at her, standing up from the grey leather sofa that had patterned blue and bright yellow cushions neatly arranged on it, to greet her.

"You know very well that I like punctuality in work." Mrs. Styles spoke in a stern voice, clearly displeased by the delay in his arrival, as she took a seat in the couch across from Michael and gestured with her hand for him to sit down, taking a sip from her glass.

"You look so good I couldn't recognise you for a moment", he complimented in an attempt to change the subject as he plopped down on the sofa to which she just smirked. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

He chuckled a little in response. " Would you like to have some tea or coffee?"

"Tea would be great, thanks." As if on cue, a woman of a smaller frame, with soft dark hair and a gloomy demeanour, who seemed to be of the same age as Mrs. Styles, appeared out of nowhere and placed a tea tray in the coffee table between them.

"Would you leave us for a minute, Trisha?" Mrs. Styles flashed her a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Uh...y-yeah." Trisha hastily scurried off to the kitchen but not before glancing at Michael, terrified.

"So, shall we get started?" Michael questioned as he leaned forward and reached for the milk jug, picking it up and pouring some of it into the cup.

"You have to do something different for me this time. That's why I called you here."

"Well, if you want me to kill someone, then it'll be my 84th murder and you know very well that I never miss a target." He smirked proudly, his gaze fixed on his cup as he stirred his tea.

"But this time, you don't have to kill an adult and that's the reason why I'm telling you that it's different." She pointed out, sipping from her glass.

"Just tell me who you want me to kill, it'll be done," he said, taking a sip from his tea.

"I want you to kill a baby, a new born baby." She spoke in a stern voice, with a stoic expression on her face as she placed the empty glass on the coffee table.

"What? A new born baby?" Michael furrowed his brows as he lifted his gaze to look at her. "But we've never killed a child, Mrs. Styles, let alone a new born baby."

"If you haven't done it yet, then you've to do it now. I'll pay you whatever amount you want. I just need it to be done."

"But it's against our work ethics. We don't kill a child."

"Then bend your work ethics, I don't want to hear 'no' from you. I'll pay you double the amount you asked for. Will you still say that your work ethics doesn't allow you to kill a baby?" She smirked triumphantly when she heard no response from him.

A defeated sigh left Michael's lips before he finally spoke up.

"Okay, your work will be done, Mrs. Styles. Just let me know when and where I've to kill the baby."

*****
A/n: Here is the prologue. I know this is short. I personally prefer a long book with shorter chapters. But hopefully, the chapters will get longer eventually.

Hope you liked it!