The moment she walked into the room, I knew I was in for a wild time. Dressed to the nines, head to toe in the most wonderfully tailored bespoke suit, wingtips made from the most exquisite black leather.

She wanted me to find her sister. She had gone missing months back, and recently, the client found evidence that she was still alive. The police didn't want to look into it, said that the case was closed. The sister had ties to the mob. I got out my gun, and went to the hideout she told me about. Apparently, they were using her for some kinky stuff.

I staked out the building. Standard disused warehouse. Mobsters went in and out like clockwork. I took a look through the window. There she was, tied down, tubes poking out of her body, hooked up to all kinds of vials with weird coloured liquids inside. I had to get her out.

I went in, guns blazing. Took out a bunch of goons. I burst into the room, and standing by her side was the client, a Luger pointed directly at my heart.

"Why?" I asked.

I never knew. The sister growled her name. Lola. The client ended up in pieces. I left in a hurry.