I catch the car keys as I hand the French lady my company credit card. She quickly swipes it, before handing it back to me and unlocking the door that leads to a lot of sportscars.

"Enjoy your stay!" she says brightly as I wheel my suitcase through the door and unlock the trunk to set my luggage in. I unzip the silver zipper and pull the flap open to retrieve my black pistol and it's leather sling.

Well at least I get to drive around in a cool car while I'm staying here, I think to myself, walking over to the driver's side of the car, opening the door to gently drop my pistol into the passenger's seat before sliding into the slick black leather driver's seat.

I set my hands on the smooth leather of the steering wheel, breathing out an admiring sigh. What a sexy car.

I insert the keys and hear the engine come to life with a quiet purr, giving the steering wheel a pat of appreciation, before I quickly back out and accelerate out of the lot, turning into a private road so I can hit the gas and fly down the road. I roll down the windows of the car and feel a cool stream of air blast rush over my face.

The emerald grass that streaks by gleams brightly as the last rays of sunlight creep toward the edge of the horizon, setting the sky on fire. My heart lifts at the beauty of the scene, as I switch on the radio, which plays loud and upbeat french pop music through the car.

I let my mind drift as my eyes follow the setting sun, driving with no clear destination but to put the road behind me and hurtle towards the sunset in front of me.

By the time I shake out of my daze, the sun has completely set and the city beside me has come to life with glittering lights, the Eiffel Tower a beacon of hope among the darkness.

I look down to see the screen of the clock reads 9 p.m as I turn out of the private road and in the direction of the Eiffel Tower.

There's no sense in going to the apartment because I sure as hell ain't going to sleep after sleeping for ten hours on the plane ride here. Might as well make use of the time and scope out the city.

My hands glide across the cool leather of the steering wheel just as my phone buzzes urgently in my pocket. With a scowl, I pull it out of my pocket to see it's Amber calling.

"Goddamnit Amber, you're going to make me crash," I mumble as I click the green answer button and lift the phone up to my ear.

"Yes, mother?" I mock, the glittering Eiffel Tower growing bigger and brighter as I drive closer to it.

"Where the hell are you? You said you were going to the apartment to take a shower and relax when it looks like you haven't even stepped foot in here!"

"I decided to go on a little drive, is that okay with you mom?" I growl, setting my phone on the dash and clicking the speaker button.

"A two-hour drive?! To where?"

I glance into the rear-view mirror towards the distant-growing private road I had been cruising along. "That's a great question that I don't even know the answer to. But I'm heading towards the Eiffel Tower as we speak, and no, you can't come, so don't ask."

Amber makes an irritated noise in the back of her throat, "Fine, I'm going to bed. But Gus is going to stay up and wait for you. If you don't get your ass back here by 1 a.m he's going to wake me up and there will be hell to pay."

"Yeah, yeah, see you later," I mumble, ending the call and making a mental note to call Gus before 1 a.m and tell him not to wake up Amber.

Look at me, I have an adopted father and a fake 20-year-old stand-in mother! Sheesh, you would think I'm ten or something from the way they worry over me so much, they're not even my Goddamn biological family, for the record, I do still have a mother.

I turn down the french music and roll the windows up as I turn into a parking lot near the tower, pulling the keys out of the ignition. I quickly open the door of the car, my heels hitting the floor as I quickly stand up to smooth out my blazer and slacks, then slam the door shut.

I don't think I've been this excited in months.

I walk towards the golden tower, my hands swaying loosely at my sides as the wind brushes my curls across my shoulders. I walk under a concrete bridge, and when I emerge my eyes widen at the dazzling sight before me.

The tower stands gorgeously tall against the surging dark clouds above it, a bright beacon for all who live in the city to see. A young teenage couple darts past me giggling, hand in hand as they run towards the tower, before stopping to take a selfie.

I can't help but smile, as I walk over to the nearest bench and sit down, resting my chin on the palm of my hand, as I observe the excited tourists and city-goers flash pictures and stare starry-eyed at the work of art.

"It is quite beautiful, no?" a voice with a heavy French accent asks behind me. I tense at the sudden threat and whirl around to see a young man around my age, though my stance relaxes when I see that he is also staring admiringly at the tower. He wears a tawny-brown leather jacket over a grey button-up, and black jeans, his short sandy curls bouncing amusedly in the wind.

I stand up and cross my arms, my own curls fluttering in the slight breeze. "It was, until you decided to interrupt the moment."

The stranger raises an eyebrow in surprise, "My my, what a blunt statement for a beautiful mademoiselle!"

I roll my eyes uninterestedly and begin to turn away, but the young man decides to speak again. "I'm Beau by the way."

I feel my eyes narrow as I turn back to the stranger. "Okay?" I really don't give a shit what your name is, why the hell is this dude talking to me... also, why does that name sound so familiar? I must've conveyed my thoughts in a glare because Beau just rolls his eyes annoyedly.

"And, your name is...?" Beau drawls, tilting his head to the side.

"None of your business, nosy much?" I growl, giving him another hard glare.

"What is your problem? Usually you tourists are more excitable," he shakes his head with a smirk and gestures to me. "But not you, you're more... oh what do you Americans call it? Oh right, it's like you ah, have a stick up your butt."

I scoff at his insult. The nerve of this guy! "How dare you, you insensitive prick!"

Beau's smirk immediately disappears as he leaps to his feet. "By god! Your vulgarity is so extrême! I'm merely trying to have a polite conversation with you, and here you are calling me a-" he presses his lips shut, unwilling to say the word.

I smirk and take a daring step towards him. "Oh is saying the word prick so bellow you?"

Beau's lip curls in disgust as he averts his shamrock-green eyes. "By God, I've never met such an unruly woman."

I step back to give him a mocking bow. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance, now go pester someone else."

Beau gawks at me for a second, before shaking his head, sending his almond curls bouncing back and forth. "No need to tell me twice, incroyable!"

He then turns around and walks in the opposite direction, shooting me an appalled glare.

I merely snort and flip him off, which causes his green eyes to widen even more.

I snicker and turn around myself. God, I really shouldn't terrorize these french people in the first five hours I get here. I look down at my watch to see that it's eleven o'clock. Oh well, now that I've had my fun, I'd better make my way to the apartment before Ames blows her top.

I walk towards an alleyway that divides two apartment buildings, seeing my electric blue Nissan parked just on the other side. The alley isn't quite dark, as there are two windows lit up, so I can survey my surroundings well enough. A man on one of the upper levels leans slightly out of the window, looking out into the night. The other window lit up has a pretty brunette lady leaning over the sill, her dark eyes watch me as she draws a cigarette to her lips and takes a long drag.

For whatever reason, the hairs on my arms begin to stick up, as a rotten feeling rolls in my gut.

"Hey mademoiselle!" a hesitant voice calls behind me, and I turn around to see the annoying french guy from earlier behind me, his eyes narrowed as he takes in the woman smoking the cigarette.

"Who the hell are you, some kind of stalker?" I growl, curling my fingers into fists. Is he the reason for this bad feeling?

The man- Beau I remember he said his name was- levels me with an irritated look. "I am not! And... I don't think it's a good idea for you to be walking through here-"

Suddenly all of the lights in the alleyway shut off, leaving me and Beau in complete darkness.

"-alone," he finishes as I hear rustling above me.

I suck in a quick breath as my hand immediately goes to where my gun sling should've been, and my gut drops to the floor when I don't feel the cool sting of metal.

Shit! I left my gun in the car!

"Mademoiselle! It's a trap!" I hear Beau yell in his thick French accent, and that's when the bullets started flying.

**Cue the devil emojis 😈😈 Don't forget to vote and leave a few comments of what you think!**