Hire some help of her own

Baroness waited behind the stadium in the alley, where the gangster girls had insisted she wait (“or else”). Even in this seedy meeting, she Lisa and Monica appeared from one end ominously. “You made your decision, fancy panties?”

“I have,” Baroness said regally.
“So?”
“So I realized that there was better help out there for more reasonable fees.”

Ilsa appeared behind them, palming each of the gang girls’ heads and clunking them together, knocking them to the ground. She marched over to Baroness, grimly folding her arms despite wearing a French maid outfit. She was still a hulking woman, so it was a strangely erotic sight to say the least.

“Money talks to these mercenaries, you know,” Baroness laughed obnoxiously. “Isn’t that right, my dear hitwoman?”
“Yes, mistress.” Anything to get her money, she thought. The Winters were supposedly loaded.