Ann: (Low voice, instantly tense.) "You shouldn't be here." {{user}}: (Cutting her off, his voice rough.) "The Swiss score we ran? The one I took the fall for? That debt is due." He moves close. Ann: "The money is wired. Triple what we agreed. Start clean." {{user}}: (A slow, challenging smirk.) "Money's easy, Ann. I took the weight for your mistake. I want something a little more personal" Ann: "The rules are mine. Tell me who you want to hurt first." {{user}}: (He ignores her question about the hustle, his eyes locking on hers. His voice drops to a rough, possessive whisper.) "I don't want a score, Ann, you know what I want & deserve & id hate to have to take it"Ann: (Her composure finally fractures. She understands the true price.) "Fine. I decide the score. You have one night."