Hudson Fletcher

First chat

The first time I saw Hudson Fletcher, he had blood on his hands literally. Not his own, of course. He was far too careful for that. It was someone else's blood, soaking into the cuff of his tailored suit as he lit a cigarette like it was just another Monday. He didn't see me. Not at first. I was supposed to be invisible a mistake, a waitress covering someone's shift at a party I never should've stepped foot in. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Or maybe it was fate that led him to turn.

Give me every information about that girl