Natasha's words were a little disjointed.
It was clear her emotions were unstable—she had just regained her memories.
Especially considering that Leon had saved her, yet she had responded with hostility. The weight of past experiences bore down on her, filling her with shame and unease.
"Don't worry about it." Leon waved dismissively. "It was an instinctive reaction. Besides, you couldn't hurt me."
Natasha clenched her fists, recalling how easily he had overpowered her.
That sheer dominance, rendering all her skills useless, was something she would never forget.
Her peripheral vision scanned the room as she tried to steady herself.
"Thank you." She shot Leon a quick glance but then shook her head slightly, reaffirming, "Thank you for saving me. And for not holding my actions against me."
Leon was about to reply, but she continued.
"This may have been nothing to you, but it means everything to me."
Her voice was sincere.
Sliding off the workbench, she stood in front of him.
"You gave me a second life, Mr. Stark."
Her expression grew solemn. "And not just me—the other widows too. We all owe you our lives."
The agents trained in the Red Room were known as Widows. The best among them, those who surpassed all records, were awarded the title of Black Widow.
A name taken from one of the deadliest spiders in the world.
A fitting title for the assassin who bore it.
"I can never fully repay you for saving my life."
"But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just have to ask," Natasha said seriously. "I will do my best."
She gently brushed Leon's cheek, her warm breath caressing his jawline.
"But forgive me—I have to go."
Her expression was conflicted, torn between hesitation and pain.
"If I go dark for too long, the Red Room will come looking."
"I can't afford to put you in danger. And there are others who still need saving."
Even as she spoke, she was already planning her next move—her revenge against the Red Room.
A flicker of determination flashed in her eyes as she suddenly leaned in and pressed a light kiss against Leon's cheek.
"Thank you, Leon." Her voice was soft, like a whisper in the wind—a lover's farewell.
She slowly stepped back, her gaze never leaving him.
Like a princess awakened by a kiss, only to walk toward her inevitable battle with the wicked queen.
After putting a five-meter distance between them, she turned sharply, leaving behind a lonely silhouette.
That retreating figure radiated resolve, embodying Natasha's willingness to sacrifice herself for her comrades, to throw herself into the fire without hesitation.
Leon watched her go, his fingers absently touching the side of his face. In the reflection of the lab's glass, he looked almost dazed—like a young boy experiencing his first taste of infatuation.
"Wait, Natasha!" he suddenly called.
She stopped in her tracks, turning slightly, revealing only half of her sorrowful profile.
"Sorry, Leon. I have to go."
"No, I mean... we're not that close yet. Shouldn't you be calling me Mr. Stark?" Leon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Then, under his breath, he muttered, "The smell of sewer water is really strong..."
Natasha froze in place, standing like a statue.
After a few seconds, she turned back, hesitant. "Call you... Mr. Stark?"
She seemed to have completely ignored his comment about her lingering scent.
"That's right!" Leon leaned against the workbench. "Natasha Romanoff, born in 1984, the most exceptional Black Widow produced by the Red Room. Dozens of aliases worldwide. A master of hand-to-hand combat and psychological warfare."
He smirked. "Having someone like you call me by my first name and give me a kiss goodbye—frankly, I'm flattered."
"I have to admit, your seduction technique is top-notch."
He chuckled. "You almost had me. A little more, and I would've rushed after you, swearing to follow you through hell and back."
Natasha's expression shifted.
She realized he had seen through her act.
Her hesitant demeanor gradually disappeared. "Wow... I didn't expect the 'mediocre' younger Stark to be so sharp. Are you CIA?"
"Please, it's the digital age. I have an AI assistant. Information is easy to gather."
"Also, mediocre? I got into Columbia, you know."
Leon shrugged. "Look, Natasha, I know your past."
"And I'm not some rich kid still clinging to fairy-tale fantasies."
"So there's no need for mind games."
"Even if you're playing them just for fun."
"Can we just talk plainly?" Leon stood up and waved at his AI assistant. "Ben, two coffees."
He handed one to Natasha. "Here, drink something warm. When was the last time you had coffee by choice? Don't tell me it was a decade ago."
"Hah..." Natasha took the cup with a natural smile, showing no embarrassment. "A year and a half ago."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "So the Red Room had you on a leash for over a year?"
"You really do know a lot, Master Leon." Natasha leaned on the workbench beside him, tilting her head slightly, looking small and delicate.
She was trying to charm him again.
"Come on, is seduction your go-to strategy for gathering intel?"
Leon gestured at her coffee. "Just ask your questions directly—it saves time."
Natasha was stunning, no doubt.
In her twenties, her every move was naturally seductive, her expressions effortlessly captivating.
But Leon had just seen her exposed organs, smelled the stench of the sewer on her. The desire for romance wasn't exactly on his mind at the moment.
"I must say, for the brother of America's most infamous playboy, you're surprisingly disciplined," Natasha teased, setting her coffee down.
As a master of psychology, she instinctively adapted to her audience's expectations.
Right now, Leon wanted straightforwardness, so she would oblige.
"That depends," he mused. "Maybe it's just bad timing. Try again later—I might fall for it."
He took a sip of his coffee. "Oh, and next time, drop the dramatic farewell. That only works on spoiled rich kids. If you really want to seduce me, try black stockings. Much more effective."
"Noted." Natasha smirked. "I'll give it a shot next time."
Then her expression turned serious. "But really, how do you know so much about me?"
"And don't say 'artificial intelligence.' Most of that information isn't online. It's classified."
Leon made an 'X' with his hands. "Sorry, that's classified too."
Natasha tilted her head. "Is this what you call a 'direct answer'?"
"Asking a question doesn't mean I have to answer it."
Leon smirked. "Now, before you interrogate me—was that really how you were going to thank your savior?"
"First, you attacked me—granted, an accident. Then you apologized sincerely."
"But the moment you remembered our fight, you switched gears, trying to seduce me."
"You wanted me to join you against the Red Room, didn't you?"
Natasha sighed and raised her hands. "Fine. I admit it. I underestimated you."
"But my promise stands. If you ever need anything—anything at all—you can come to me."
Leon tapped his chin. "Even... questionable requests?"
Natasha met his gaze firmly. "If it's you... I'd accept it."
…
💎 Support this novel with Reviews & Power Stones! 💎
…
✅ Check out my Patreon for +30 extra chapters 📚 on all my fanfics! 🎉
🔗 [p@treon.com/LordMerlin]
🙏 Thank you for your support! ❤️