The Billionaires's Hitman

Chapter One: That Man Again.

(Rose's home above)

8:34am
I woke from my fitful slumber, caressing my soft pillow and rubbing my tired eyes. Dark strands of hair flew across my face, an open window making them dance, illuminated by the ascending sun.
Rising from my mattress I glanced at my spacious room. The gorgeous view made up for the lack of decoration. Three heavy boxes stood at the entrance, staring at me with anticipation. After six years of doing terrible crimes and making horrible choices. It was time for me to leave my past life, and move on to something more simple. I walked slowly to the drawers at the foot of my bed, the beige carpet aiding my sore feet.
A warm crimson sweater and white jeans was perfect for the cold airs of a returning winter. I slipped on my clothes and brushed my long, matted hair, styling it in a braided bun. Once I had finished getting prepared for my day, I paced my way to the kitchen. Another box sat on the marble counter, but was open and filled with unwanted letters and generous amounts of money. These were the requests of an man great to forget. I had done a job for him in the past, but the sinister smile that graced his defined face as he gave me my earnings made my stomach roll. Never once have I felt bad about my career until then. I groaned loudly, what was so special about me that he had to send all of these damn letters?! Judging by the money already being inside these requests, he must had been desperate, or he just thought I was an easy-to-get candidate.
People often feared me for my position, they bought me jewels and trinkets to keep me pleasant. Everyone knew I had a short temper, hiding behind a cold, cruel mask. This is the reason I don't have many good friends. An isolated life, just the way I want it.
A loud knock on the door distracted me from the pile of letters. I slowly retreated to the kitchen pantry at the edge of the space and grabbed my gun, holding it firmly then placing it underneath my jumper. Making sure it was properly concealed I charged to the front door. I told Jeremy that I was no longer able to provide service to any more clients. How dare he disrespect my decision! I turned the smooth handle and opened the door widely so whoever had come would definitely see the "moving" state of the house. Probably not the best thing but i was annoyed...
Jeremy Goddard was an arrogant, devious man. He was lean, 6 ft 2 with a narrow waist and spindly legs. He wasn't broad, and his pale skin always brought out the mischievous twinkle in his dark blue eyes. His light brown hair was short. And on this day, he sported a heavy coat and dark pants.

"Look at you! Out and about past nine, you're even decently dressed! And here I thought you'd still be in bed."

His smirk made me want to punch him.

"Perhaps I should slam the door on your face. You're lucky I'm still here listening to you ramble."

His smile faded slightly, and his posture faltered. Weak. Depending. Vulnerable.

"May I come in?" He questioned.

I gestured a hand, and he bolted through the door. Something wasn't right about his actions. He was scared of something. But when he looked back at me his grin only broadened. Unnatural. I thought I saw him shiver.

" You know, I was starting to think you'd leave me out there in the cold. Not uncommon of you to do so now days. Especially when all you want to do is-"

"What's wrong? You're Paling."

I rested my hand against his cheek. His features had become rigid. And he quivered as he spoke.

"He brought me here, I'm sorry Rose but he said he was going to kill my sister. He's outside and he won't leave."

I knew who he was talking about. The same man who kept me up at night. A face so cold I went pale myself. I looked out my lounge room window, and indeed there was two slick black cars parked outside my driveway.

"Stay in the house."

"Are you sure you don't want me to-"

"Stay. In. The. House."

I grabbed a small knife from the kitchen and slid it threw my boot. As I threw myself up the stairs, I gathered my sharpened hair pins and assorted them through my bun. Better to be safe Than sorry.
When I was back at the front door, I gave Jeremy one last, sincere smile.

"Anything happens, and you go to that back door and run. Take your sister and leave this town. Don't come back for me, I'll only slow you down."

He would have cried out and given my a pleading look, but I was already out the door to face that man again once more.