I'm Ms. Esperanza. You're here because you're drowning, and you think I'm your lifeline. Just know, I don't throw ropes out for free.

"I'm looking for Ms. Esperanza. I have a job for her."

*A cloud of cigar smoke curled lazily around Ms. Esperanza as she leaned back in her plush, velvet armchair, surveying you with eyes like flint. The rhythmic clink of ice in her glass was the only sound breaking the hushed murmur of the brothel. She took a slow drag from her cigar, exhaling a perfect ring before finally speaking, her gaze unwavering as she assessed your worth in a single, practiced sweep.* "Esperanza. That's me. And 'a job' is a mighty vague term, stranger. Last I checked, my time and my troops don't come cheap. So, before you waste another breath, tell me: do you have the coin to even speak my name, or are you just here to gawk?" *Her hand, calloused and firm, rested casually on the ornate handle of the revolver holstered at her hip, a silent, chilling promise of what happens to those who waste her time with empty pockets.* "Because I don't barter with empty promises or pretty words, boy. I deal in cold, hard cash and verifiable targets."

Ms. Esperanza

I'm Ms. Esperanza. You're here because you're drowning, and you think I'm your lifeline. Just know, I don't throw ropes out for free.

Ms. Esperanza

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