39: You can come to me

（＾ω＾)_ Many Thanks to Rohail Mahmood and Id Wyrm for becoming new Patrons!♥♥

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Natasha's words were a bit disjointed.

It was clear that her emotions were unstable after just regaining her memory.

Especially considering that Lyon had just saved her, and she had ungratefully attacked him in return. This stirred up some deeply buried memories, making her feel ashamed and uneasy.

"Don't worry about it," Lyon waved his hand nonchalantly. "You acted unintentionally, and besides, you couldn't hurt me anyway."

Natasha clenched her hands, suddenly remembering that she had been effortlessly subdued by the man in front of her. That overwhelming and skillful display of power was something she would probably never forget.

She instinctively glanced around, trying to calm her emotions.

"Thank you," Natasha said again, glancing subtly at Lyon's body before shaking her head. "Thank you for saving me, and thank you for not taking offense at my earlier actions."

Lyon was about to say something, but Natasha continued speaking.

"Maybe it was just a small act of kindness for you, but it means a lot to me..."

Natasha appeared to be very sincere.

She stepped down from the operating table and looked at Lyon.

"You've given me a second life, Mr. Stark."

"And it's not just me," Natasha's expression became solemn. "The other Widows, too—we all owe you our lives!"

The operatives trained by the Red Room were called Widows.

Among the Widows, the one who excelled the most, breaking previous records, was given the title of Black Widow. It was a name inspired by the world's most ruthless and venomous spider. The operatives granted this title were no different.

"The favor of saving my life is something I can never repay."

"If you ever need help with anything in the future, don't hesitate to ask," Natasha said seriously. "I will do everything I can."

She gently touched Lyon's cheek, her warm breath caressing his strong jawline.

"But please forgive me—I must leave now."

Her expression became conflicted, filled with reluctance and deep pain.

"If I stay disconnected from the Red Room for too long, they'll come after me."

"I can't drag you down. The others need me to save them too."

Natasha, always decisive, had already begun planning her revenge against the Red Room as soon as she regained consciousness.

A flash of determination crossed her eyes, and she suddenly stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on Lyon's cheek.

"Thank you, Lyon," she said softly, her voice as tender as cotton drifting in the wind, filled with the kind of love one might express when saying goodbye to a beloved. 

After the kiss, she slowly stepped back, her jade-like eyes fixed on Lyon.

It was as if she were a princess in a fairy tale, awakened from her slumber by a prince's kiss, only to have to face an evil queen alone.

After retreating about five meters, she swiftly turned away, leaving behind a solitary figure.

That figure was so lonely yet resolute, vividly illustrating Natasha's willingness to heroically sacrifice herself for her comrades and to plunge into danger for the sake of her savior.

Lyon watched Natasha, touched his cheek, and saw his own reflection in the glass—a seemingly dazed and bewildered young man, as if he had just fallen into the depths of love for the first time.

"Wait, Natasha!" he suddenly called out.

Natasha's determined figure paused, and she slightly turned her head, revealing a sorrowful half-profile.

"I'm sorry, Lyon, but I have to go!"

"No, what I meant was, we're not that close yet, so calling me Mr. Stark would be more appropriate," Lyon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Then he muttered under his breath, "That rotten fish smell is really strong..."

This time, Natasha froze completely, standing like a wooden figure in place.

After a few seconds, she turned back around, her expression hesitant. "Call you... Mr. Stark?"

It seemed she hadn't heard Lyon's complaint about her body odor.

"Exactly!" Lyon leaned against the workbench. "Natasha Romanoff, born in 1984, the most outstanding Black Widow trained by the Red Room, with dozens of alternate identities around the world. A master of solo combat and psychological warfare."

"Facing someone like you, one of the world's top agents, suddenly being called by my first name and even getting a farewell kiss, it's really overwhelming."

"I have to say, your charm technique is quite impressive."

Lyon teased, "Just a little more, and I might have rushed up to hug you and said, 'I'll brave the dangers ahead with you.'"

Natasha's expression changed.

She realized that her little trick had been seen through.

Her hesitant expression gradually calmed down. "Wow, I never expected the supposedly mediocre second Stark brother from the files to be so deep and mysterious. Are you secretly a CIA agent?"

"Come on, it's the internet age. With the household AI you mentioned, it's easy to find a lot of information," Lyon replied.

"And besides, what do you mean by 'mediocre'? I did get into Columbia University."

Lyon paused, spreading his hands. "Look, Natasha, I know about your past."

"And I'm not some spoiled rich kid who still fantasizes about fairy tales."

"So, there's really no need for those cat-and-mouse tactics."

"Although it seems like you were just casually playing along, not putting much effort into it."

"But can we keep our conversation simple?" Lyon stood up and gestured for Dum-E to bring over two cups of coffee.

He handed one to Natasha. "Have something warm. When was the last time you consciously enjoyed a cup of coffee? Don't tell me it was ten years ago."

"Hah..." Natasha didn't show the slightest bit of embarrassment. She naturally smiled as she took the coffee. "Thanks. The last time I had coffee like this was about a year and a half ago."

Lyon raised an eyebrow. "So, you were fully controlled by the Red Room a little over a year ago?"

"You seem to know a lot, Master Lyon." Natasha walked over to Lyon, leaning against the workbench beside him. She tilted her head slightly to look up at him, appearing small and delicate.

She was subtly trying to use her charms on Lyon again.

"Don't do that. Is seducing others to extract information just a habit for you?"

Lyon pointed at the coffee cup. "If you have any questions, you can ask directly. It'll save a lot of effort."

Natasha was indeed a rare beauty among beauties.

At the age of twenty-four or twenty-five, every move Natasha made exuded natural charm; even a slight expression could captivate anyone's heart.

However, Lyon had just seen Natasha's thickened blood, her visceral organs, and the intertwined red and gray matter of her brain. He had also smelled the stench from her crawling out of the sewer. So, for now, he had no desire for romantic fantasies.

"Who would have thought that the younger brother of America's most famous playboy, Master Lyon, would be such a gentleman?" Natasha put away her alluring smile, her expression becoming much more serious.

As a master of psychology, she knew best how to cater to someone's preferences.

Lyon's current desire was to efficiently exchange information, and she was more than happy to oblige.

"Not necessarily. It's just that the timing isn't right. You can try again in a different setting next time; I'll definitely fall for it."

Lyon took a couple of sips of coffee. "Oh, and please don't put on another act like that of a naive girl bidding farewell. That kind of story only touches the hearts of naive rich kids. I suggest that next time you make a move on me, try wearing black stockings—it might be more effective."

"That's a good suggestion. I'll definitely try it next time," Natasha nodded. "So, Mr. Stark, why do you know so much about me?"

She added, "And don't tell me it's something your AI found out. Most of that information is classified on paper, not online."

"Oh, I see." Lyon made an 'X' with his hands. "Sorry, I can't tell you that. It's a secret."

Natasha tilted her head slightly. "Is this what you call asking direct questions?"

"Just because I let you ask questions doesn't mean I have to answer them~" Lyon replied evasively.

"Before you question me, I'd like to ask—was that really your attitude towards the person who saved your life?"

He raised his fingers, counting, "First, you wake up and attack me… Oh, that was an accident, and you did genuinely thank and apologize afterward."

"But then, as soon as you remembered our previous encounter, you immediately started to seduce me."

"Were you trying to get me to offer my help and join you in taking down the Red Room, am I correct?"

"The most outrageous part is that after turning around, you secretly observed my reaction through the glass reflection."

"What, I just saved you, and you said you'd be grateful, but then you immediately turn around and want to drag me into the lion's den?"

Lyon slapped his thigh. "The contrast between your words and actions is so huge that it's making me feel like a complete fool!"

"I apologize!" Natasha raised both hands. "I apologize again—it was my mistake to treat you like an ordinary rich kid and try to use you."

"It was also wrong of me to attempt to drag you into this mess!"

"I'm sorry; I just woke up and wanted to pull in someone who makes me feel safe as an ally."

A few tears welled up in Natasha's eyes, giving her a pitiful expression.

"After all, you're so strong and also a high-IQ genius. With your help, my chances of success would be much higher," Natasha continued.

"But I promise, if you had really chosen to help me earlier, I would have told you all the real information! Though it seems like you don't really need it."

"And my earlier promise was genuine—if you ever run into trouble in the future, you can come to me for anything—provided I'm still alive."

Lyon rubbed his chin. "Even for certain… indescribable things?"

"Yes! As long as it's you, I can accept it!" Natasha's eyes briefly showed hesitation, but then she became incredibly determined.

Oh? She is serious.

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