Seducing An Assassin

After attaching my bipod, I slipped on my black leather gloves then took my post. 

One-thirty p.m. Like clockwork, Deverati’s snowy Bugatti whipped around the corner and parallel parked across the street from Café Josephine. 

“Alright Half-a-mil, let’s do this.” I watched the car through my scope, anxious for the moment my mark revealed himself. 

The butterfly door on the driver side swung open, he stepped out and the world shifted into slow motion. 

“Daaayum,” I breathed out.

The Italian leather shoes, tailored black slacks and tan trench coat fit him to perfection. A gust of wind breezed by and flared his coat’s tail, adding to the magnificence of his striking presence. A pair of dark Aviators hid his eyes. Sheer arrogance poured off of him in waves as he strutted across the street. 

When he disappeared into Josephine’s Cafe, the world returned to its normal pace and I caught my breath. 

Fuck the pictures! This man was gorgeous. Even his swagger was a thing of beauty.

Before returning to my sniper scope, I blinked twice. “Focus, Monroe,” I whispered as I mentally reminded myself of the mission. 

Eliminate the target. 

His superciliousness alone justified him as being more than worthy of a visit from my bullet. But, as I watched him walk across the street with his standard large latte in hand, something about him intrigued me, and it wasn’t just his looks.