The moment of peace and serenity was so abruptly broken Iris doubted it has even existed. The charming boat made its way to the dock hastily, breaking the waves on its way, forgetting to appreciate the quiet beauty of the sea.

Iris's spy brain went into overload, searching for a way to get Igor to admit whatever has been going on. He was too rattled, too angry, as he marched from the dock into the inner parts of the town. Iris followed at his heel, certain he hadn't even noticed her.

Another thing he hadn't noticed was the fact Iris stole the bottle opener from the boat. Perhaps she should have brought the gun after all. The bottle opener would do.

"Your hotel is that way." He pointed to the right. "Do you want me to get my driver?"

Make yourself useful. Make yourself useful. Her spy brain screamed at her.

Iris blabbed before she could think it through, "You're too irritated, too jittery."

The phone call had been cryptic, nothing but demands of Igor's immediate presence. But Iris suspected it was business.

"You don't know me." Igor's wild eyes darted across the street and back to Iris. "You don't know my business."

"No, but I know people." Iris pushed, her heartbeat accelerating with each word she said. This might play out great or it might ruin everything for her.

But he learned too much about her. She was not the type of a woman to go home and hide in a hotel; she would want to be near the action.

Igor stopped in his tracks; a calculation dancing in his eyes. He said he learned to be calculated, but in his nature, he was whimsical. Iris counted on the whimsical part, even though he had no real reason to take her with him.

The calculation was done. Igor turned to her and offered his coldest gaze.

"Go home. The night is over. You would only be a liability."

Iris's hands dropped by her sides; the perfect movement to hide the bottle opener behind her flowy dress. Igor was determined, his lips thinned, his eyes darkened.

Iris nodded, "Fine." And turned on her heel to walk away.

As if suddenly remembering, Igor shouted after her, "You didn't give me your number!"

"Dig it out yourself." Iris walked hastily down the street, not turning around.

Once she disappeared behind the corner, she halted. She could hear Igor's footsteps growing quieter as he walked away.

And she followed him.

She earned the name Huntress back in Israel when she stalked a man for four straight days until he eventually led her to the source of his illicit activities. She was only twenty five but she was relentless. During her endeavour, she exchanged five outfits and three wigs, trying not to get herself caught. She lingered in the shadows, much like she did now.

And right now, there was nothing else she could do but stalk her prey. She was well aware they hadn't spent enough time together for him to trust her. She had to take matters into her own hands.

Iris stuck to the shadows as she tried not to lose the sound of Igor's footsteps. The city layout of Opatija was somewhat scattered, but mostly followed the orthogonal plan. Fortunately, Igor did not go far.

Three minutes in and he stopped in front of a bar. Shouting and singing reached from inside and Iris came closer once the man entered and closed the door behind him. The heat outside was unbearable, sweat slid over Iris's skin. It also meant the windows were open.

Iris leaned against the stony exterior and breathed quietly. The shouting and singing stopped, but the music remained, forgotten, lonesome.

"Stišaj muziku." Igor's strong voice broke through the music.

Mute the music.

"Koji kurac si uopće dolazio? Sve je pod kontrolom." Another voice, unfamiliar, joined in.

Why the fuck did you come? Everything's under control.

Iris took out her phone and began to record everything she heard, just in case she might not hear or translate everything correctly. Under the small window, their voices were loud, close. Iris feared she was too close. She willed her heart to calmness and focused.

"Pod kontrolom? Ništa nije pod kontrolom, majmune jedan! Koji od vas pacova je spomenuo moje ime pred gradonačelnikom?" Igor raised his voice and it sounded like thunder smashing through the sky.

Under control? Nothing is under control, you monkey. Which one of you rats mentioned my name in front of the mayor?

Iris made a mental note to check out the relationship between the mayor of Opatija and Igor. At least she assumed he spoke about the mayor of this particular town.

Silence ruled for a few moments, until one brave man spoke, "Nisu htjeli pustiti pošiljku u Istru, bilo ih je strah. Pogotovo je je išlo preko Crne Gore. Jovan je sjebao."

They didn't want to let the shipment go to Istria, they were afraid. Especially because it came over Montenegro. Jovan fucked up.

Silence ensued on Igor's part.

"Moram da idem za Beograd." He let out an exasperated sigh.

I have to go to Belgrade.

"Stani u Dubrovniku. Oni su radili probleme. Granice su jedva propusne." Another voice joined in, rougher than others.

Stop in Dubrovnik. They created problems. The borders are barely permeable.

"Možda da odeš u Neum?" Somebody else asked.

Maybe you should go to Neum.

"Sad me još terate da vodim malu u Neum jer ste nesposobni." Igor grunted.

Now you're making me take a girl to Neum because you're incapable.

Iris smiled involuntarily when she realised he was talking about her.

"E, sad, Siniša, dođi za mnom." Igor's voice turned from bored to angry in a nanosecond and Iris's senses sharpened, nudged by the change.

Bickering and complaining ensued, but Igor kept quiet, and eventually his heavy footsteps alluded he was leaving the place. Iris followed the sound, finding herself behind the bar, hiding in the shadows.

If she leaned forward, she could see the backdoor of the bar sideways. Igor exited the building with a stocky, bald man whose face was covered in fright. Iris heard the sound of their footsteps accompanying the rhythm of her heart. Coming this close to prey was dangerous. If she were a wolf haunting a deer, it would have already sensed her and ran away.

Fortunately, human senses were dulled enough.

"Gazda, nisam imao izbora, Istra je postrožila kriterije uvoza i izvoza." The man's voice turned slightly desperate.

Boss, I had no choice. Istria tightened the import-export criteria.

"Dobro da imam import-export kompaniju, idiote."

Good thing I have an import-export company, you idiot.

There it was; the acknowledgement of owning an import-export company on Igor's side. Iris was suddenly very glad she recorded the entire conversation from the safety of darkness.

"Morao sam spomenuti tvoje ime, ne bi nas inače pustili!"

I had to mention your name, they wouldn't have let us in otherwise.

Iris held the loose strands of her hair, hoping they wouldn't fall out of shadow, and leaned forward. Igor loomed over the stocky man; his shape somehow even bigger now. The other man cowered, clear fear gleaming in his small, dark eyes.

"Ajde jednu stvar da razjasnimo. Ako te dragi Bog pita moje ime, ti mu ne odgovaraš." Igor grabbed the man by his upper arm.

Let's make one thing clear. If dear God asks you for my name, you do not answer.

He twisted the man's arm, causing a scattered shriek. Iris's heart thudded. For a moment, she was entranced. The man's face distorted in a painful grimace, his teeth clashed against each other, his jaw clenched.

"Jebem ti mater!" The man shouted obscenities. "Jebo ti konj mater!"

"A, ne, ne." Igor let out a chuckle, his strong hand twisting and turning the man's arm. He grabbed his forearm with his free hand. "Mi se tako ne razgovaramo."

Oh, no, no. We do not talk like that.

A loud cracking sound spread through the air. The man shouted. Iris winced. Time stopped. Her hair hammered against her ribcage as she realised what has just happened.

"Slomio si mi ruku!" A loud cry escaped from the man's lips, followed by painful shrieks and blubbering.

You broke my arm!

"Idući put kad me ne poslušaš ću da ti zavrnem šiju."

Next time you disobey me, it'll be your neck.

On instinct, Iris's grip tightened around the bottle opener. She breathed heavily into the hot, summer air as Igor calmly walked away, leaving the wounded man on the ground.

"Neka netko pomogne Siniši." Igor's voice came from the inside of the bar.

Somebody help Siniša.

There was something so inhumanly cruel about the action, something so utterly and completely devious. Iris gingerly walked back where she came from once she heard men coming out to help the poor guy.

Witnessing this assertion of dominance snapped her back into her spy mind-set. Despite his calm, carefree persona and his flirty remarks, Igor Milosavljević was a hard-core criminal. The type of man she's spent her life hunting down and putting behind bars.

She could not – would not – let herself be put under his spell. No, she needed to find his weakness, exploit it, bring him to justice and get for herself what she wanted most – her own freedom. Freedom from this identity, from this life.

The game was simple.

Hunt down, feast and move along. Just like always. Just like it was supposed to be.

Still, she had a feeling this hunt wouldn't be without sacrifice.