Chapter Text
"I'm done asking." Gregor said, pointing his gun at Oliver, who was restrained to the chair. "Follow me or die."
Suddenly, gunshots rang out as Gregor and his men looked upstairs.
"Find out what's happening." Gregor said as his two henchmen went upstairs. A moment later, gunshots rang out and sounds of beating as Gregor decided to run, when he looked upstairs and paled at the sight, widening his eyes in horror. "Chernaya vdova."
Oliver was slowly passing out from the pain as he saw a red-haired woman enter before his vision faded to black.
When Oliver came to, he was in bed as he noticed that he was in some kind of a hotel room. "Where am I?"
"Somewhere, where you can rest, Mr. Queen." The red-haired woman said as Oliver groaned and got up. "I must say, I'd never expect an American playboy to be a part of the Bratva as well."
"Who are you?" Oliver demanded as he sat down, turning to the woman.
"Let's just say I have some unfinished business with Gregor and Mr. Kovar. And seeing that you're a capable man, I suppose our interests are aligned. I've been watching you for a while now." The woman said. "But what I'd like to know is, how did someone like you get into Bratva and what are you doing with them and why are you not back home in the U.S."
"You tell me, who you are, I might explain myself." Oliver said.
"My name is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff." The woman said and Oliver's eyes lit up in recognition, remembering rumors about her from A.R.G.U.S. and Bratva.