affliction

one

Beth's POV

"Welcome to the Archibald Estate, may I see your invitation?"

I open up my clutch and grab the invitation out, handing it over to the man at the entrance. He makes a face at it and looks back up at me, "Miss, this invitation says it's for Mr. Tate Wheeler. Is that your husband? He has to be with you upon entrance."

I fake a smile at the man, "No, that's me! I'm an old friend of Amelia's. I called her the other day and informed her that the invitation had a typo, they put 'Mr.' instead of 'Ms.' on the card, she said she would inform the security?"

He seemed to believe my lie fairly easily. "Oh, I guess I just wasn't informed. Sorry for the trouble, miss. Enjoy your evening."

I began to walk through the rope he was now holding open for me. "No problem at all, common mistake with the name Tate, I'm used to it." He gives me another smile and I continue on my way into the building. I was wearing a black, floor-length gown with a long slit up the side with a matching mask that was tied to my head. This being a masquerade, it made my job a whole lot easier. I make my way over to the bar and order a vodka lemonade to drink while I look for tonight's target.

Alec Poler. 47 years old. Owner of a diamond ring that was stolen from my client. According to her, he's planning on purposing to his new 22 year-old girlfriend tonight at this gala, so he should have the ring on him. Client just needs the ring, doesn't care if it's taken from him in secret or if I have to pry it off of his cold, dead body.

"This seat taken?"

I look over to my left and see a man who's roughly 5'10, in his 40's, wearing a black suit. I do a once over of his jacket and see a medium-sized lump in the pocket.

"Depends. What's your name?"

He smirks. "Alec Poler, as in Poler Industries. Let me buy you a drink."

Well that just made my job a whole lot easier. I push my unfinished drink to the side and smile, "I have a better idea." I start walking in the direction of a hallway as he follows behind me. I already studied the layout of the building before coming so I know where all the rooms are. I take him to the library and walk back to a secluded area, which also happens to be near an exit. I go down one of the aisles of books and stop at the end, turning around to face him.

He backs me up against the wall and puts his arms on either side of my head. "Well you're an eager one. Usually takes a little more conversation to get a girl alone."

I reach my hand up to his face while staring at his mouth. "Yeah, well, I have my own agenda for tonight." I grab his bottom lip with my thumb to distract him from seeing my other hand grabbing my dagger from the strap on my thigh.

He starts to lean in to kiss me, "and what might that be, little one?" I grab his face and attach our mouths together, but then instantly taking the knife and plunging it into his chest. His movements stop all together. He falls to his knees, his hands grabbing the knife. I wipe off my mouth with the back of my arm and lean down and grab the ring box out of his coat pocket, opening it to ensure the ring is inside.

"This." I say, holding the ring in front of his face. "Carol says hi, by the way." I rip the dagger out of his chest and he falls over, effectively rendering him dead. I make my way over to the exit door in the library, walking out into the cool fall air. It's a bit early in the year for it to be this cold, but with the adrenaline pumping through me, I don't need a jacket anyways. I rip my mask off and throw it in the parking lot, hopping on my motorcycle. As I'm driving down the highway, I call my client, Carol.

She answers after 3 rings, "is it done?"

"I have the ring with me. Have your people ready to transfer the money, I'm on my way to your place." I hang up the phone.

She lives in a big house in Manhattan, which is about 25 minutes from the gala I was at. I make it there in no time, though.

I hop off of the motorcycle, Carol is standing in her driveway with a man waiting. I hold the box open to show her the ring and the man types away in his phone. I hear a notification on my phone and I look at it.

$500,000 was transferred into your account from account #4797201

I smile at her and hand her the ring. "Wonderful doing business with you, Carol. You know how to contact me if you need anything else."

As I begin to walk away she speaks, "is he dead?"

I hop on my bike and hit the kick stand with my foot. "Yes ma'am, he is."

She smiles at me. "Wonderful. If I may ask, why didn't you ask for more money?"

I rev up the engine and listen to my bike roar to life. "I have a personal vendetta against men. Knowing that he hurt you, killing was a tip itself."

She nods and waves me off. "Thank you again."

I nod at her, putting on my bike helmet and riding off to my apartment.

Bucky's POV

"Why are they coming to us about this now? If this person has killed so many, I feel like we should've taken action months ago."

Fury sticks one hand it his pocket and uses the other hand to point at the screen. A picture comes up of a back masquerade mask.

"Well, Steve, to answer your question, they had absolutely no information on the person until last night. They still don't have much, but it wasn't what they were expecting. The men that have all been murdered all had fairly muscular, large builds, which had the police assuming that only a large man could take down countless times. When they found Mr. Poler's dead body in the parking lot, they starting searching the premises and found this stray, woman's mask in the parking lot. They asked the guards at the door about it, and one man said he recognized it on a woman named Tate Wheeler. The guard also said the invitation was for a Mr. not a Ms., but that the woman had stated she knew the property owner and it was just a mix-up. They couldn't find this woman on site, so they asked Mrs. Archibald about it, and of course it was a falsified story. The actual Tate Wheeler was found dead in his apartment whenever the officers went to ask him how this woman got the invitation. So, now the information we have is that it's a woman, 5'6 in heels, so around 5'3 normally, blonde shoulder-length hair, and fairly muscular build for a woman. Still, though, they tried to get prints on the mask but there wasn't any. So, she is still unidentifiable."

I've only been at the compound for about 2 months and still find it hard to talk to these people, so I mainly stay quiet and just listen during these meetings.

Tony stands up from his seat. "Alright, so what is she, a hit-woman? I assume she gets paid for this. It's all for high-end rich men who have certainly made enemies. Can't the police just track where large amounts of money are being wired?"

Fury shakes his head. "Tried that. Couldn't ever come up with anything. They had no idea whose accounts to even look at and no large transfers ever popped up in their system. It must be something under the radar, she might also only accept cash."

Steve is next to stand from his seat. "Alright, we're on it. Natasha, try and go undercover and find out who these people go to to get rid of someone. Maybe we can just set up a hit on one of us and capture her that way."

Natasha shrugs, "Sounds like a great idea to me, I'll get right on it."

"Alright everyone, meeting over. Don't call me unless you have something." Nick gathers his things and leaves, they rest of us stand and go our separate ways.