Alison looked at the brown-eyed, porcelain-faced girl in the mirror and tilted her head ever so slightly. She almost didn't recognize herself as she looked extra made-up today, her hair gathered in an elegant bun, lips the color of blood, and clad in a full-length emerald dress, complete with a slit and a plunging neckline. Personally, this wasn't really Alison's style, but the job she had called for it, so here she was.

Before heading out the door, she did two things: put on her favorite perfume that smelled of french vanilla, and made sure her trusty knife and Derringer were still in her stocking's holster. Thankfully, her dress was made of chiffon, effectively concealing the slight bulge that her weapons made. She checked her reflection one more time and smiled with confidence before leaving the apartment and heading to her car, where her driver and most trusted bodyguard, Roger, stood and waited.

"Good evening, Ma'am. You're looking mighty fine this evening." He complimented Ali as he opened the door for her. 

She smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Thank you, Roger. I have a date tonight, you see. An Englishman." She explained with a smirk as he drove her to the Sinsation Hotel and Casino. It was fairly easy to find the man Alison was supposed to 'meet', as his face was splattered all over the local newspaper.

Son of British Duke visiting Las Vegas for 'business'

"Businessman and notorious playboy Peter-- son of Edward of House Windsor, in line for the English crown-- has been seen in a Las Vegas club under the influence and surrounded by multitudes of women. When asked by the press on his reasons for visiting The Strip, he simply stated that he was here for 'business'. He was last seen entering the Sinsation Hotel and Casino, where he will be staying for the week. Turn to page 6 for more details."

Alison gazed at Peter's photo on the front cover, he really was a sight to look at. It's a shame this date of theirs won't be romantic at all.

Once they pulled up to the Sinsation Hotel, Alison got out and proceeded to the casino, walking over to the bar to get a drink and look for the English aristocrat. It only took a few seconds for her to find him, a tall, well-built man, with sandy hair, deep green eyes and defined features, sitting at a poker table. Alison and Peter locked eyes before she smiled at him, slid out of the stool and walked towards him, taking the seat next to the man.

"You joining, Miss?" The dealer asked her, and Alison nodded, while she noted the multiple bodyguards flanking Peter. She's going to have to get him alone to do business.

Peter slid closer to her and put a hand on her thigh.  "You sure, love? I would hate to see that pretty little face crying when you lose your money. Can I get a name?" 

It took every single fiber of her being not to swat away his hand and choke him right there, but she maintained her cool and smirked instead. "I'm sure, don't worry about me." She reassured him as they were dealt their cards. "And it's Alison."

"Lovely name for a lovely girl. I'm Peter, but I'm sure you know that already." They continued talking for a few more rounds before he leaned in and whispered to her. "Would you be interested in dinner?" He asked her in his thick British accent.

Alison raised her eyebrow. "I'll cut you a deal," She said with a mischievous smirk. "You win this round, I'll have dinner with you. I win, you take me on a tour of your room. I heard the penthouse here is to die for." 

Peter choked on his gin and tonic and nodded rapidly. "M-my room? You'll go to my room? Well then let's both hope that I get dealt a crap pair of cards." He said with a cheeky smile.

Perv, Alison thought, but she just smiled and waited for the round to end.

"Full House." He said.

Alison turned over her cards and smiled in victory. "Royal Flush."

He clutched his chest and feigned defeat. "You just have me running for my money, don't you, Alison?" He stood up and offered a hand to her. "Shall we?"

--

Alison, Peter, and his bodyguards boarded the elevator up to the Penthouse. Alison tiptoed and whispered to Peter, "Do they really have to be here?" She asked him, referencing his bodyguards. "They're making me uncomfortable."

As they arrived at the Penthouse, Peter quickly told his two goons to leave them for the night, and that he was fine. They hesitantly nodded and as soon as they left, Peter offered her a glass of wine. "Here it is, the penthouse experience." He said with a smirk. "But we both know you're not here for the room." He told her as he leaned in for a kiss, a wet and sloppy one.

Alison reached for her knife as he held her, knowing full well his brain was completely on the kiss. In a matter of seconds she had the knife to her throat, and Peter screaming for his bodyguards.

"You know they can't hear you, so shut up." She told him.

He thrashed out but couldn't escape her grip, so he just stopped trying. "What kind of shit is this? Are you one of those sadists who enjoy pain with sex because I'm not into that!"

Alison giggled. "No, you blubbering idiot. I work for Anton Giovanni, and he wants his money back." She whispered sensually, as she pressed the knife harder.

"Ow, ow! Al-alright! The money's in the safe and the c-code is 4-2-6-3." He stuttered, profusely sweating now. 

Letting go of her grip, Alison took out her gun as she dragged him by the collar towards the safe. She plugged in the code and the safe opened, revealing heaps of money, jewelry, and condoms. She took 500 grand and let him go before walking towards the door. 

"So no sex?" He shouted after her, clearly knowing his priorities.

Alison turned towards him and pouted exaggeratedly. "Sorry, but no. You're a horrible kisser, and your lines are all cheesy. Get a life." She said before blowing him a kiss and going down the elevator.

--

"Well, that was fast." Roger remarked as she entered the car with her clutch full of cash. "​The date a bust?"

Alison grinned, the same grin she has whenever she closes a deal. "What can I say? He just wasn't my type."