Sheela stood on the 14th floor balcony of her hotel room, wearing a black silk strapless that stopped just above the inside of her knees. Her sexy calves curved all the way down.
The room was dimly lit with a pair of candles. The ceiling was high; the walls were elegantly decorated with paintings. Mozart was playing in the background. A bunch of red roses lay on the bed in a corner. A small card lay open beside it.
"I wanted to meet you for quiet a long time," Ronne whispered from behind close to her ears.
She was cool and didn't turn back. She was as tall as him, five foot eleven inches, attractively voluptuous body, perfect curves, sexy tan skin tone, black curly hair just below her shoulders, would make any man crave for her.
She doesn’t look 35 ….He thought.
"I have to leave early in the morning tomorrow. I have a business meeting" Her voice was deeper than he expected.
"I want to take you to Paris. It makes for a much better rendezvous, a city of art, a city of romance and passion." He said as he loosened the buttons on his three-button jacket.
"I don’t like Paris, it’s ugly, arrogant people." her ribs expanded with each breath.
"You liked the roses?" He placed one hand lightly on her shoulder and rotated her towards him
"They were lovely." She replied sincerely looking into his eyes
One of the two candles burned out.
Ronne ran his hand around her curved hip, "I want to take you away from all this filth, and make you my mine" he continued “No need to wear any masks. No need to be anything they want you to be. Not anymore."
She put her arms around Ronne’s neck and looked into his eyes. "Kiss me," she said. "Kiss me deep, like it was the last kiss”
He leaned over her and brought his lips to hers. She opened her mouth and lightly touched his lips. He pressed his body against hers as he kissed her warm, soft and luscious lips, giving her everything she wanted. There was nearly an hour of extreme love, romance and passion. The final candle burned out.
Breaking the few seconds of silence, “Dhup!” A flash of light.
The bullet made its way perfectly into Ronne’s ribcage. She let him down gently, laying him back on the bed. It was then did he notice the small, snub-nosed revolver in her hand. As he grew cold, he saw her pick up the journal with all the international criminal business dealings from his leather bag.
"I'm sorry baby," she whispered into his ears.
“I didn’t doubt you” he mumbled and went blank.