Vanessa sat quietly inside a small but classy café.
The café was not crowded. Soft music played gently in the background. The air smelled of coffee and sweet pastries. People sat in pairs, some laughing softly, others talking in low voices.
Vanessa stirred her cup slowly.
Her eyes were cold.
Her lips were tight, she wore wicked smile as always, very dangerous smile ,she was wearing a black jumpsuit that hugged her slender body with no shape.
Across from her sat a man.
He was tall, calm, and well dressed. His face carried the look of someone who always planned ahead. He spoke slowly and carefully, like someone who never wasted words.
“So,” the man said, breaking the silence, “this Judy Hale… or should I say Mrs Jones now… she is becoming a serious issue.”
Vanessa scoffed loudly.
“A
