"Jason Flynt," a lovely feminine voice grunted, annoyed and exasperated by the name she uttered. "Rascal's back at it again."

Her companion snorted, amused.

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Said companion, Primrose, teased.

"Charmingly devious, makes my job more difficult." Felicia 'Sia' Felice retorted back.

She didn't always find the man so infuriating in the past, even pitied him but his continuous mysteries and misadventures had finally worn her thin. She didn't want anything to do with him. He was important, a public figure. But the people who wanted him killed came in crowds and expensive limousines with doors opened by dry-faced chauffeurs so her connection with him had always been tinged with green and red.

Perhaps it was inevitable, her being the leader of a high-profile team of mercenaries and spies. She had businesses that had lead her to charity events as well where she would hear of or even catch a glimpse of the business world's golden darling. With all assets inherited from his dead parents, he was rich and doesn't even have to try. One would assume him to be a naive rich brat that could only charm and party away into the sunset.

Oh, how wrong they were, are. How wrong she was. Before her first contract to kill him, she had always thought he would be an easy target, a lost boy in his little bubble of expensive champagne. Pitied him, how he had no one to guide him, much like herself. Those were all the sentimental and dismissable feelings for one to get the job done.

The contract was simply to have him killed, the method doesn't matter. It was from the FBI, ironically. They weren't too fond of her. Flynt was supposedly so hard to kill that they had to swallow their pride to come knocking on her door of reinforced steel. She, at the time, actually thought that the FBI didn't want to get their hands dirty killing such a famous person if they were to be discovered.

She didn't heed the contract. The sisterhood only killed the evil, the scumbags of the Earth. Flynt might have been a ditz but he was innocent. If the rule were to be broken, the guilt of the kills would eat them alive.

That was when she realized that her life was a lie, sort of. Flynt was apparently involved in making illegal bioweapons capable of turning the world into puppets had he access to the water supplies. Which he did. Madam Selene Palmer, a family friend of Flynt and the then CEO of Flynt industries was on a roll. Charities, inventions, new methods of sustainable energy harvesting, huge leaps in space researching and mining, for sure the company had some sort of access to some poor countries' water supply.

Flynt industries had always been a giant in business but it was all mundane with restaurants, real estate and banks... They were very green as well, very popular as the goal seems to be to better humanity and such. They did charity all the time. As did the family.

With the death of the former CEO, Actaeon Flynt, came a new era for the company. In addition to the already plentiful businesses they had that made them the most expensive business in the world and made the family the richest, they started to grow in the field of science. They had transformed the once damaged Earth into something worthy of hope with the method to get rid of waste by making smart trash cans that separates trash into recycling domains. Sounds stupid but with the cooperation from the government, there was a regulation made that each household has to have at least one of that trash can. Lord only knows how that could happen.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

They were free though, costed the company a fuck ton but they earned back the loss by monopolizing the trash industry and reaping the recycled materials for themselves, selling more and then some. Another road of profit.

The system sounded like a kid drew it up.

She should've known then.

The plan was drawn up by a child and he used Madam Palmer as a vessel to carry it out. Sia suspects it was the same with all of the legal businesses after that.

Well, she had her spies investigate the predicament, it took time and effort, more than it needed to. They caught too many suspicions to deem it innocent anymore. Trucks with the name Flynt carved into the side always seemed to disappear into thin air after it goes flying off random greek coasts. More strangely, even FBI satellites pulled personally for Flynt can't detect anything. She knew he was up to something, something bad. She just couldn't prove it. Well, that was what the sisterhood was for.

To kill evil even if the lawful couldn't.

-----

The hit failed, spectacularly. The boy's bodyguard, Sasha, was formidable. He placed his charge's safety above all else and was always alert. Alas, all of that stalking did more than alarm the target. The fire alarm rang as soon as the assassin set foot onto the charity cruise ship and the Flynt heir was evacuated to safety before Primrose could pull out her Plan B weapon, her gun.

It turned out that there was a fire but it was likely orchestrated and set off as soon as the threat entered as a quiet but not-so-quiet warning.

After many encounters with him later, with some agents knocked out, some with their memories missing and some found in Buddhist pagodas in Cambodia, the world hasn't ended...yet and she was done.

She still kept a loose eye on him anyway, to make sure she was ready for any vengeance on his part and found herself form a sort of parasocial friendship even if she hasn't met him.

To be sure, she knows him but doesn't.

-----

"I thought we weren't worth his time." Sia muttered indignantly. He had spared them for so long, so why arrange a meeting now? It was strange, very strange. Despite vaguely knowing of his ventures, she really couldn't understand the man- boy.

"Maybe it's not related to our attempts at all...?" Offered Primrose lamely. "We do have some very nice labs, and he didn't show any interest in taking revenge to his other foes."

Sia reviewed the letter again. Written in perfect, fancy calligraphy that can be described as feminine, the content itself is very innocent with no undertones of threat or blackmail or any indication that the writer meant more than he wrote. Sia contemplated, Flynt had always focused on his projects and businesses. He had offended many people but mostly for those reasons as well. His allies are prospering and he acted like the attempts on his lives were people trying to steal his candy. He acted like he didn't care.

She put the letter back in the off-yellow envelope and closed it. The opening plopped to cover the letter and the seal was back in its place. As she looked at the Flynt Family symbol, she had made a decision.

"Prim, prepare a dark green dress, contact the salon and have them come here tomorrow afternoon." She looked at Primrose with a final air. "You pick something green too.."

"Wait, I'm coming with?!" Primrose looked utterly scandalized. She had three unscheduled meetings with Flynt in the past and Sasha had made those experiences unsavory. "You have other agents too y'know. Those who would actually like to meet Mr. Mystery?"

"I'm not bringing a newbie, you know more about them than any of us, if anyone has the ability to get us out alive, it's you." Sia paused to stare meaningfully at Primrose, no one in the sisterhood could say no to their leader. She was very well versed in manipulation that she refused to call the puppy dog eyes.

Primrose met her stare with a determined one herself only to deteriorate into a helpless submission. Her efforts were returned with a smug smirk and the turn of Sia's beloved squeaky swivel chair.

The unpleasant sound marked the start of another migraine. God help me.