Natasha's breath came unevenly, her body still straddling Tony's as his words echoed between them.
Freedom.
That single word had shaken her more than any truth serum ever could.
She wanted to scoff, to tell him he didn't understand. But she couldn't. Because for the first time in her life, someone was offering her a way out.
Her fingers curled against his chest, her muscles taut with instinct.
"No one escapes the Red Room, Tony," she whispered. "No one."
His smirk didn't waver. "Then it sounds like a challenge."
Before she could react, Tony's hands gripped her waist and flipped her, sending them tumbling off the couch. She hit the floor with a sharp gasp, his weight pinning her down and keeping her exactly where he wanted.
'God! Am I really this weak? Am I falling for him? His eyes...'
Natasha was a trained assassin, the best the Red Room had ever produced. No one had ever dared flip her like that, to dominate her in a fight. Yet here she was, flat on her back, looking up at Tony Stark—of all people.
And he wasn't done.
He grabbed her shirt and tore it open.
The sound of ripping fabric filled the room.
Cool air kissed her skin, her toned stomach rising and falling with every uneven breath. She was wearing a black bra with a little gun tugged between her left breast and bra. Tony took the gun and threw it away.
"If you want," he murmured, "I'll erase every single trace of the Red Room. In one day."
Her breath hitched.
'God, he's serious. No, it's the drugs! But...'
She had spent years trying to sever her ties, to reclaim what little of herself the Red Room hadn't destroyed. And here he was, offering to burn it all to the ground as if it were nothing but an inconvenience.
The temptation was dizzying.
But temptation was weakness. And she had never been weak.
Her hand moved without hesitation.
In a blur, she reached under the couch, fingers curling around cold steel.
The pistol whipped out, the muzzle pressing against Tony's throat.
His pulse beat steady beneath the barrel.
"You think you can just say pretty words and make me betray everything I know?" she hissed, green eyes burning. "I could kill you right now. End this game. Complete my mission."
Tony didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. If anything, his lips quirked in amusement.
"Then do it."
Her finger tightened on the trigger.
"I mean it, Romanoff," he pressed, tilting his throat closer to the gun. "Pull the trigger. Prove me wrong. Kill me, go back to the Red Room, and spend the rest of your life as their puppet. Used. Controlled. Never free."
The gun trembled slightly in her grasp.
"Or…" His lips hovered near hers, his voice a quiet promise. "Join me."
Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs.
"Let me burn them to the ground."
"Let me give you your freedom."
"Your life back."
Her throat tightened.
This was a game. A game of control, of power. She had mastered it. Yet somehow, he was winning.
The weight of possibility crushed her.
One pull of the trigger. One second. That's all it would take.
And yet, she hesitated.
Tony's voice was softer now. "Your single choice could free them all."
Natasha sucked in a sharp breath.
"The other Widows."
Girls taken from their homes. Molded into killers. Forced to kill each other to survive and become the best. Trained to obey. Just like she had been.
She had spent her entire life believing escape was an illusion. That freedom was meant for others.
But now…
Tony was offering something she had never dared to dream of.
A way out.
Not just for her. But for all of them.
Her grip on the gun was steady, but her voice was not. "Why?"
Tony exhaled, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of her waist. Just a whisper of contact—yet it made her hyper-aware of his presence.
"That's a stupid question, Nat."
She hated when he called her that. It made her feel… real.
"Try me." She pressed the gun harder against his throat.
Tony smirked, voice dropping lower. "Because I see you, Romanoff."
Her breath caught.
"You walk around pretending you don't want anything. That you don't need anything. But I know better. I see the way you hesitate before pulling the trigger. The way you look at families on the street. The way you pretend you don't want more."
Her jaw clenched. "You don't know me."
His gaze held steady. "Don't I?"
She should have called him arrogant. Overconfident.
But deep down, she knew it wasn't arrogance—it was a certainty.
She tested him, pushing the barrel harder into his throat. A final chance for him to flinch. To show fear.
But he didn't.
Tony just looked at her.
"If you're lying to me…" her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
Tony smiled. "Then you can kill me yourself."
She searched his face, looking for deception. A crack. A lie.
There was none.
Her gun trembled slightly. Her pulse quickened. Every instinct screamed at her to complete the mission and be done with it.
But...
She let it fall.
The cold metal slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Tony didn't reach for it. He just waited.
She grabbed his collar and pulled him down, crashing her lips against his.
Tony didn't hesitate. He kissed her back with equal hunger, his hands cupping her face, his body pressing against hers. Heat surged through her veins, drowning out the doubt, the fear, the hesitation.
This was reckless. Dangerous. A mistake.
But it felt right.
She broke the kiss, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "Twenty-four hours."
Tony arched a brow. "That's all I get?"
She smirked. "You said you could destroy the Red Room in a day. Prove it."
His eyes flickered, then darkened with something unreadable. "And if I do?"
Natasha held his gaze. "Then my life belongs to you."
Something shifted in his expression. She had surprised him.
His thumb brushed her jaw, voice quieter now. "Careful, Romanoff. That almost sounds like a vow."
Her smirk deepened. "It is."
"I might make you cook, do laundry, do my bed, clean my shoes," He leaned forward and whispered into her ears. "I might take advantage of you, just like right now. Like this. In every single way."
Her pulse quickened, but her voice was steady. "If you can destroy the Red Room in twenty-four hours, then I will do whatever you ask. I will become your woman, wake you up with blowjobs every day, give you sex whenever you want. Even if it means you are going to keep me naked in your house as your own fuck toy. I won't complain or object. My body is yours to play with, and I'll do everything I can to please you."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really have some intense fetish, don't you?"
"You started it," She blushed.
"You tried to drug me. I simply returned the favor."
"How did you do it? How did you drugged me?" She asked.
"Ah! Don't you wanna know?" Tony smiled and kissed her on the neck. "Maybe I'll tell you someday." He stood up and stretched his arms. This surprised Natasha. She was expecting him to take off her bra and do the deed right there. She was hoping he would fuck her right on the floor, right on that very spot. The thought of sex made her heart flutter. 'God, he's not gonna leave me here, is he? After he got me so aroused.' The drug's effect was still in her body.
Tony ordered Legion to cleanse her body of drugs. The nanites went into action, purging every single drug in her system.
And just like that, her senses returned.
"What the...?" Natasha felt normal again and even though the effect was neutralized, she was horny. But she somehow composed herself and sat up on the floor.
Tony extended his hand. She accepted his hand and stood up. She felt a bit embarrassed but kept her emotions under control.
"So, what happens now?" Natasha asked.
"Now? Now, you will give me the location of Red Room's main base," Tony said as he sat on the couch and crossed his legs. He took out his phone from his pocket and placed it on the table. He activated the holographic projection mode. Instantly, the world map appeared, hovering over the coffee table. "Please." He motioned his hand towards the map.
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