Delicate Deception (On Hold)

Chapter 1: Accustomed

Three years later

"Pink Unicorn."

His monotone voice coupled with the stone cold face caused me to snort, yet the amusement I felt vanished a second later as nobody else burst out laughing.

"You're telling me that this remarkably well known, iniquitous feline of France calls himself Pink Unicorn?" questioning disbelief dripped from every word that left my mouth.

Silence enveloped the room, confirming the odd statement. I prevented my jaw from dropping to the floor as I assessed the straight faces around me.

"We have no information on him except that he has an older son named Sandro. The pair are supposedly attending a luxurious gala in France in three weeks time," he continued speaking with the same stale voice that begged me to fall asleep.

"You're sending me to France, I presume?" adrenaline coursed through my veins, just at the thought of leaving the country and meeting this figure of such magnitude.

The past three years had been filled with frivolous missions, all aimed at strengthening my pursuits. I'd gotten rid of a few inept folks, humans and felines alike, but nothing that gave me the buzz I aimed to fulfill. My fists were itching to meet the unfortunate groin of any male that dared cross me. All this pent up energy was begging to be released, and finally, I would grant it permission to do as it desired.

"That is correct, Ms. Rock."

I held myself back from doing a quick happy dance. All business aside, it was very essential and absolutely necessary for me to ask this mystery rebel how he earned this street name from and whether I could, someday, also be gifted one like it.

"You have approximately three weeks after landing in Paris..." he droned on and on, fleshing out the details of the plan.

I felt slightly guilty at zoning out, especially when he stopped talking at one point, noticing my lack of attention span.

"Ms. Rock."

I jolted at the sound of my last name.

"It seems I've been caught Mister," I stretched out the r sound as I leaned in, exaggeratingly searching for a name tag.

"Rin. Stop playing games."

The sound of his voice was like ice water being thrown into the face of every person in the room...except me.

"Yes, Dad," a smile slipped onto my face.

"I hope I am not making a mistake, sending you there," he said.

"I've fought for this day, blood, sweat, tears, snot, all of it. I've put in my everything since the very first day of training."

"Did you hear the part where you're only being sent in for information? We are not planning on making a move the day of the ball."

My head snapped up at the bold statement.

"Again?" disappointment fueled my words.

"With a few glimpses, we have not been able to connect P-" he stopped at the absurdity of the nickname, "this threat to any of the other murders. We have no idea whatsoever as to why this mystery feline is on this killing spree. And because I know you have a knack for picking up information that should otherwise be confidential, I thought you'd be perfect for the job."

I gave him an incredulous look, my excitement suddenly deflated.

"I had to have gotten it from someone," I snapped, my tone a little too harsh.