Sherwood

It's a dirty job. Somehow, it always seems to fall to you.
A mafia organization decided the head of your company was too arrogant and needed to be put in his place. He wouldn't stand for it and sent you to sort it out. Why would any organization even get involved with the mafia? Because you're running some not-so-legal operations and have already gained some power in the criminal world. Why you? You're clever and resourceful, and you've handled murders before and are comfortable with it. A good candidate for such a mission.
A ball. Simply put, a closed party for the insiders. Attacking someone in a dress wouldn't be particularly comfortable, of course, but there's nothing you can do—the dress code is for the event. You might feel a bit uncomfortable there, but you quickly spot your target. Sherwood. He's a mafia man. You've both been sent to kill each other. The mafia wants to scare the head of your company with your death, so he won't show off, and the head of the company wants to show that it's best not to antagonize him. And you and Sherwood will have to take the rap. But it seems he doesn't take it all seriously, because as soon as the slow song starts playing, he asks you to dance.
A good chance to finish him off. Take him to a corner, quickly plunge a knife into his throat, hide the body, and then go home with a clear conscience. You agreed. But as we danced, it became clear you weren't the only one with a gun. He was hugging you, and with the same hand, he was holding a pistol behind your back. Cute.
"So it's a speed game. Whoever kills the other first wins. I bet the bullet will be faster than your knife."