C152 Let's See How Long

Natasha drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, the bassline of her favourite song thrumming through the car speakers.

The expansion proposal Carlos had dropped on her desk earlier had been a headache wrapped in a time bomb, but she’d nailed it.

Well, mostly.

It was enough that her head didn’t feel like it would explode, though her body hummed with exhaustion.

The glow of a new club caught her eye as she passed by.

Its neon lights cast rippling hues of purple, blue, and green against the pavement. "Annabelle needs this," she muttered, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

She could already see Annabelle’s hesitant expression, the subtle widening of her eyes, and the eventual small smile when Natasha dragged her inside.

There was something refreshingly genuine about Annabelle.

It was a kind of uncorrupted core that Natasha admired more than she’d ever admit.

It wasn’t hard to see why Dante was head over heels for her.

Annabelle’s kindness and quiet strength were magnetic in a world full of sharp edges.

"She deserves a break," Natasha mused as she drove into her neighbourhood.

"And so do I. Two birds, one stone."

The thought of checking out the new club transformed into a full-blown plan.

She'd scout for talents, enjoy the atmosphere, and let loose a little.

After all, working for Dante had its perks, but it was also a high-stakes game every day.

A night out was well-deserved.

Pulling into her parking spot, Natasha leaned back for a moment, letting the music pulse through her.

The streetlights outside flickered softly, casting shadows across the hood of her car.

She wasn’t in the ritziest neighbourhood, but it was solid.

It was the kind of place she’d always dreamed of living in growing up.

"Yeah, life’s good," she muttered, grabbing her bag and slipping on her earpods.

The music followed her into the building, energising her as she ascended the stairs and unlocked her door.

The satisfying click of the lock sliding into place was like a weight lifting off her shoulders.

Home.

She kicked off her shoes, her hips swaying to the beat as she tossed her blazer over the couch.

Her tie came next, discarded with a flick of her wrist, and she unbuttoned her shirt as she danced toward the bedroom.

Her world was music and movement, the day’s tension melting away as she revelled in the small joys of solitude.

Natasha reached for the light switch, her fingers grazing the cool plastic before something primal...an instinct buried deep in her...made her freeze.

The air shifted.

Her breath hitched as a massive hand clamped over her nose and mouth, cutting off her scream before it could form.

Her ear pods fell to the floor with a muffled clatter.

She twisted, her body instinctively bucking against the intruder, but his grip was unrelenting.

The skin of his palm was rough with his fingers pressing hard against her face.

Natasha threw her head back, aiming for his nose, but he sidestepped her attack with unnerving ease.

Before she could try again, an arm snaked around her throat, pulling her against a chest that felt like a wall of muscle.

She clawed at his arm, her nails scraping against flesh that didn’t budge.

"Hello, Natasha," a voice purred close to her ear.

It was low, calculated, and dripping with malice. "It’s nice to finally meet you."

Her lungs burnt as she struggled for air, her mind racing.

She tried to throw her weight forward, to loosen his hold, but he adjusted, locking her legs together with one of his in a way that left her completely immobilised.

Her muffled cries turned into a furious mumble as her mind screamed for a plan.

She was Natasha, damn it.

She’d fought her way out of tougher situations.

But fear clawed at her resolve when the man chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back.

"I knew you’d be a fighter," he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. "I’m going to enjoy this so much."

The words sent a chill slicing through her.

For a moment, she was a child again, held down by bullies in the orphanage as their taunts echoed in her ears.

The helplessness she’d sworn never to feel again gripped her chest like a vice.

“No. Not again.”

Her vision wavered, the room spinning as her oxygen-deprived body weakened.

Natasha forced herself to blink the haze away, her mind clinging to the voice that had haunted her nightmares.

She memorised its cadence, its menace, determined to survive long enough to make him pay for this.

The pressure on her throat vanished, replaced by a sharp, searing pain in her side.

Her knees buckled as the breath she managed to gasp was ripped away by the intensity of the blow.

She barely heard the sickening laugh that followed, her senses tunnelling into the agony radiating through her ribs.

"Nothing to say?" he taunted, his voice mocking. "I was expecting more from you, street survivor."

Her fingers brushed against the bedside table, the cool wood grounding her in the chaos.

Desperation surged as her hand closed around the ceramic lamp.

"Let’s see how long you last," he sneered, leaning closer.

Natasha swung with everything she had, the lamp shattering against his shoulder.

He stumbled back with a grunt, and she didn’t waste the opportunity.

Natasha bolted for the door, her hand clawing for the knob.

Before she could twist it, a vice-like grip latched onto her ankle, yanking her backward.

She hit the floor hard, her breath exploding from her lungs.

"You’re going to regret that," he snarled, his voice darker now, tinged with fury.

Her instincts screamed at her to fight.

Natasha twisted, her free leg kicking out and connecting with his jaw.

The blow wasn’t enough to incapacitate him, but it bought her a precious second to scramble to her feet.

Then, as if tired of all games, he launched at her.

Grabbed her and she suddenly felt a jolt on her side as she jerked.