Sweet Sinful Revenge

Chapter Three

Natasha entered the small, beachside bar with an air of confident indifference. Casually making her way across to the bar whilst doing a quick scan of the dimly-lit interior.

He wasn't here yet.
Why didn't that surprise her?
The man in question -- Jose Comineza, was a dislikable, slimy, adulterous asshole.
But her job was to consult with him, and then get rid of him.

Simple as that.

And he was so detestable, the dark place inside of her was actually looking forward to the part where she could get rid of him.

She had been assigned to this mission in the Dominican, having been briefed that Jose Comineza had certain information that he was willing to let seep to the U.S.
He was an agent for a man named Fidel Castro, whose suspicions had prompted him to call upon the services of the Red Room to deal with the problem. And Natasha was more than qualified to deal with such a problem, being by far the most deadly graduate of the establishment of trained spies and assassins.

So she had gone undercover as a businesswoman vacationing at the resort, and so far her target had proved to be arrogantly oblivious to her sinister intentions. After assuming the role of 'pretty-but-lacking-intelligence' she had set about subtly manipulating the man with great ease.
With polite, casual inquiry, and feigning admiration for Comineza's professional prowess, Natasha succeeded in tricking him into letting the intelligence slip. Now she had all the conformation she needed that he had the information. But she was shrewd enough to not kill the man outright.
She knew what she had to do.
Lure him into her room with the promise of sex, and then efficiently dispatch him, swiftly, cleanly and quietly.

It really should've been as easy and simple as that.

Except, she hadn't been counting on the reappearance of what was proving to be an infuriatingly thrilling distraction....

Perched on a bar stool, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes, slipped one between her ruby-red lips, and groped around inside her purse in search for a light.
Ordinarily, Natasha did not smoke. But Comineza did, and it was this habit that had enabled her to premeditatedly initiate their first encounter.
She had approached him in the restaurant bar the previous night and asked him for a light. So in order to keep up the pretence, it was imperative for her to be seen smoking.
Yes. Natasha was nothing if not meticulous and dedicated.

However, before she'd found her light, suddenly as if from nowhere, a long arm reached from over her shoulder, an elegant hand appearing in front of her brandishing a lighter.
Fleetingly she wondered if it was Comineza, but instinctively she knew that it wasn't. He wasn't a gentleman, and didn't possess the ability to pull off such a smooth move.

"Allow me." A velvety voice purred close to her ear, alarmingly causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

Resisting the urge to swivel around on her seat, Natasha leaned-in nonchalantly and accepted the light. Only once the cigarette was lit, did she allow herself to turn her head slightly in order to take a look at the suave individual who'd miraculously appeared so close behind her.

It was him.
The suit from the beach.

"You again." She remarked casually, her expression giving nothing away.

His mouth kicked- up slightly at the corner, his eyes resting on her with unwavering focus. "Yes. Me again. How marvellous it is for our paths to have crossed once more. One might be inclined to call it fate."

Natasha raised a deliberately sceptical eyebrow. "Well 'one' might, but I'd be more inclined to call it an eerie coincidence."

Despite her implication, to her surprise he gave a dismissive shrug of the shoulders, apparently unashamed to have been accused -- if not directly -- of orchestrating their having met again.