α TrA (Atria) Astra Stellaris was rather famous–whether it be for what happened to her as a child, her resulting intelligence, the drive to hurry through school, obtain a doctorate degree–she was considered a genius in her own right.
And that wasn’t considering her family connections. Her father and grandmother had passed, and she was left with mountains of money in accounts, both on and offshore–but she didn’t really dip into them unless she was donating to charity, hosting dinners, or starting her own special practice using her Stellaris family ability–their bloodline, to help people. Her mother, in particular, raged against her and took her to court, but with evidence that her mother at one point wanted nothing to do with her, was left out of the will and not given a single penny.
Many, many people wanted her dead, if not for exposing the underworld, for championing justice for those that had no one to help them.
The thing is–once you’re very successful, no one can tell you what time to show up–you make the rules, the times, everything.
And Astra loved sleeping in. That morning was no different. She awoke at around eleven, dressed, and hurried to her office, before seeing a few patients, and then came back home for dinner.
There were many calls made as she paced to and fro in front of her house, occasionally leaning against a midnight pearl blue bmw that hadn’t even been released yet. Supposedly.
Her home, a manor house, was close to the beach, secluded from most other places. An entire street, just to herself. Other houses were close, and sometimes when others hosted parties, they parked their cars. She didn’t mind, and she saw nothing wrong with it.
Here, she was free to do as she wished, and she didn’t hide. She assumed she was safe.
“Well well, look who is living the high life” He said bitterly. He kept his windows up, his eye on his target. He had money now, he wasn’t quite where he wanted to be, but he was getting there. Some people were just born with it. People who didn’t deserve it, in his opinion. He grabbed his electronic listening device and pointed it at the vehicle, he would be able to hear everything that was said, on her end, not who she was talking to on the phone.
He hated this part, meant he had to turn off his music. He sighs and turns the volume all the way down. Such a great song too.
He narrowed his eyes and focused on any sound that would be valuable to his mark. He wished it would be as simple as just walking over and taking her out, but it was never that simple, he was very careful, it was how he stayed out of prison so far. He was great at covering his tracks.
“Come on..give me something” He whispers. He wanted to smoke, but now was a bad time to do so. It was ok, he always excelled in this missions and never had any issues in taking care of his target. He always took them out, quickly and cleanly. No, he saved his best work for his free time killing. He wanted people to know those killings were his and his alone.
A couple years back he had an issue of a copycat, going around trying to make thier killings look like his. Oh he had been beyond enraged! Especially when people had believed the bastards shoddy work to be his! He had thrown a fit and had hunted the prick down and had slowly killed him. He had made sure to let the public know that the bastard had not been him, had even left a note explaining to the public that it was a copycat killer, not his work, and shame on them for believing it!
He had upped the ante then, his killings had been more beautiful than ever. He should really thank the prick.
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