"I trust you," She says as his knife points to her throat.

The truth was, she didn't. She wasn't one to condone lying, but when it came to survival.

Well, call her a liar, liar.

He was testing her, testing her loyalties. Loyalties she didn't have but was really good at pretending she did.

Or at least, this moment would show what kind of actor she was.

Months Cassida had spent infiltrating their underground ring, and today was judgment day.

She sucked in slow, shallow breaths, pleading with her body to remain still. Tense under his blade, his eyes manically searching hers for an ounce of weakness.

She didn't dare break contact with their intense gaze.

Didn't dare show just how truly petrified she was.

Slowly, so slow she didn't recognize the significance of it, Cole lifted the tip of the knife away from the shallow dip in her neck. For half a second she considered turning the tables, seeing how fast he would piss himself with a sharpened blade to his jugular.

Now wasn't the time. The strike team wasn't in place yet.

Cole reached a sweaty palm down to her, hoisting her up to his chest. She stayed in his embrace for just a moment, long enough to watch his lids lower in desire.

Good, she had played her character to a T.

Cassida didn't have time to play with her toy, though; she had a mission to follow through.

After Cole released her, he nodded to the other initiates in the room, giving them his approval of her test.

As she walked away from her group Cassida briefly touched where the knife had rested, and the warm liquid that smeared her palm confirmed that he had cut her.

Guess he needed to prove that if he wanted to, Cole could have stolen her life, and she would have allowed it.

She threw one last look behind her and counted every single one of those rotten, murderous animals in the room.

Not a single one would make it out.

She slipped out, gently shutting the door behind her, and clicked the bolt into place.

Cassida reached into her boot, pulling from it the small alarm she had stowed under the arch in her foot. It had made walking away "calmly" almost unbearably painful.

All for the cause.

She thumbed over the button, just as she heard alarmed shouts coming from the other side of the room. Someone tried the door, yanking hard on the handle. They knew she was gone.

They would try the other door, and with a click of a button, they would be met with an armed welcome party. One such button, Cassida was all too happy to push.

Explosions sounded, screams, and repeated gunfire. Only 3 minutes, estimated, before silence.

Leading with her shoulder, she pushed open the door. Corpses littered the once polished floors, puddles of crimson decorating the white tile.

Cassida's team gripped a wriggling body between them, sack over his head. He lashed around attempting to kick out, his shouts muffled leading her to guess he was taped.

The knife he once held to her throat was strapped to his side, its edges glinting menacingly.

She sauntered up, lifting the brown sack over his head inch by inch.

The fear, confusion, and rage all played out like a scene before her. He was always so easy to read.

She could only imagine what he was seeing.

Cassida, with Cole's blade in hand, toying with it. Her grin as wicked as the weapon she held.

She bent to his ear, bringing the blade to his throat. His whimpers only added to the anticipation.

"Do you trust me?"