A few days later, Natasha Romanoff stood across the street from the towering glass facade of Aeon Biotech, her eyes scanning the people walking in and out. Sleek, modern, and buzzing with energy, the building didn't look like the fortress of secrets S.H.I.E.L.D. claimed it to be. But appearances often lied.
She wore a sleek navy dress, black heels, and a small smile. Today, she wasn't Natasha Romanoff — she was Natalie Rushman, recently hired as the personal secretary to the CEO, Jean Grey.
She took a deep breath and muttered under her breath, 'Time to dance with the devil.'
Thanks to her exceptional resume and forged credentials, she'd been selected for the position of Secretary to the CEO, Jean Grey.
It was the perfect cover — high enough to access internal information, low enough to avoid suspicion. S.H.I.E.L.D. knew that Jean was a powerful telepath, which posed a direct threat to any undercover operation. That's why they'd fitted Natasha with a new neurochip, discreetly implanted on the back of her neck.
It had been specifically designed to interfere with telepaths on the level of Charles Xavier — the gold standard for mutant mental powers. After several incidents involving mind-readers influencing politics, finance, and even military secrets, many high-profile figures had privately funded and initiated the development of such anti-telepathy technology. Now, it was finally operational… and it worked.
The chip didn't outright block telepathy — that would be too obvious. Instead, it cleverly distorted surface thoughts, mixing them with artificial neural signals that translated her thoughts into various scrambled languages.
If a telepath tried to dig deeper, the chip sent a minor jolt through her brain, a cue for Natasha to speed up and jumble her thoughts further. It created a confusing mess that even someone like Charles Xavier would struggle to untangle.
The tech was top-of-the-line, designed to fool even the best — and it had worked in past tests. Now, it would help her slip through the mental radar undetected.
As she walked into the grand lobby and completed her security formalities, she looked around calmly. Her expression was professional, neutral, but her eyes observed everything.
The receptionist smiled politely. "Welcome to Aeon Biotech, Miss Rushman. Your desk is on the 17th floor. Ms. Grey is not in today, but the team will assist you in settling down."
"Thank you," Natasha replied with a perfect mix of warmth and professionalism.
On her wrist, hidden under the sleeve of her blouse, a slim bracelet emitted a soft pulse of red. Her mutant detector was already working. Within minutes, she'd identified several staff members in the building as mutants, confirming part of what S.H.I.E.L.D. had suspected.
She made it to her new desk and settled in. 'Alright... Time to dig.'
With Jean, Anna, and Ethan all reportedly out today due to personal engagements, it gave her the perfect opportunity to gather intel through casual conversation. Office gossip, when used right, was a gold mine.
She struck up a few light conversations with coworkers during breaks, subtly steering the topics toward the company's leadership. Unsurprisingly, the staff admired Jean and Anna — both were said to be kind but commanding. Ethan, however, was different.
"He's... something else," one of the junior researchers whispered over coffee. "I've never met someone like him. Genius, scary smart. But weirdly charming. You feel like he knows what you're thinking before you say anything."
'That's because he probably does,' Natasha thought grimly.
While gathering these pieces, she recalled why she was really here. S.H.I.E.L.D. had long suspected Ethan Carter wasn't just some mutant entrepreneur.
Wards had been detected surrounding his house — strong, complex, magical wards. Wards that triggered magical frequency detectors designed with someone like Selene in mind — a powerful mutant witch S.H.I.E.L.D. once encountered and failed to apprehend.
When they tested those same devices near Ethan's house, they lit up like a Christmas tree. Either Ethan was a magician himself, or he was closely affiliated with one.
Nick Fury didn't like unknowns. And Ethan Carter was a walking one.
Now, inside the lion's den, Natasha was determined to find out who — or what — he truly was, 'Let's see what secrets you're hiding, Mr. Carter.'
The hum of keyboards, soft clinks of ceramic mugs, and the faint whirr of the central AC system filled the 17th floor of Aeon Biotech. It was another seemingly ordinary day — but for Natalie Rushman, it was the beginning of subtle espionage.
Wearing a tailored white blouse and a navy pencil skirt, she blended in perfectly. On the surface, she was just another assistant trying to keep up with the chaos of corporate life. But beneath that professional exterior was a mind constantly analyzing every interaction.
"Hey, new girl! Natalie, right?" said a perky voice from the break room.
Natalie turned to see a young woman with curly brown hair and glasses handing her a steaming cup of coffee. Her name tag read: Chloe – Intern, R&D.
"Yeah, that's me. Thanks," Natalie smiled warmly before accepting the cup.
"No problem. Just trying to make sure you don't end up drinking the bitter sludge from the third pot like the rest of us poor souls." Chloe laughed.
Natalie chuckled. "I appreciate the save."
"So, how's your first week going?" Chloe asked, leaning against the counter. "Must be wild working directly under Jean Grey."
Natalie leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to seem conspiratorial. "She's a little intimidating, to be honest. I haven't even met her yet."
"Oh, you're in for a ride." Chloe grinned. "Jean's great, but... intense. Like, she always knows when someone's lying. Gives off serious psychic vibes, you know?"
'Because she is psychic,' Natasha thought.
"What about the founder? Ethan Carter? What's he like?" she asked casually.
Chloe's face shifted slightly. "He's... hard to describe. Super smart. Quiet. Kind of mysterious, but in a 'you-don't-wanna-ask-questions' way. Nobody really knows how he does what he does in the R&D wing. Some of the scientists joke that he's part alien or something."
'Or something,' Natasha thought. 'Possibly magic.'
"And Anna?" Natalie added while sipping the coffee. "She's the Managing Director, right?"
"Yeah," Chloe nodded. "Honestly? She's a total badass. Keeps the boardroom in check like she owns the place. And she's super close to Jean and Ethan. Like... inseparable. Some say they were friends before the company even started."
Natalie made her rounds through the office that day, carefully placing herself in different conversations. She learned that the top floor — Ethan's personal wing — was protected by biometric locks and restricted access even to high-ranking staff. The security team rotated on strange shifts, and one of the janitors claimed he saw weird glowing runes on the walls one night.
She never reacted. She only listened, laughed, and asked just enough questions to seem curious — but never suspicious.
Back at her desk, Natalie opened a clean notepad and pretended to take meeting notes. Instead, she jotted down a list:
Jean Grey: Professional. Respected. Feared slightly.
Anna: High influence. Keeps a low profile but commands attention.
Ethan Carter: Reclusive. Private R&D. Rumored to perform "impossible" science. Possible mystic signs inside restricted areas.
Natasha leaned back in her chair.
'There's more to this place than just biotech. And the deeper I dig, the less it feels like a company... and more like a fortress.'
She smiled to herself as she watched employees pass by, casually chatting about their weekend or sharing memes on office chat. All seemed normal. But beneath it all, she felt the tension — like a coiled serpent waiting in silence. 'Let's see how long it takes before the serpent notices me.'
.....
Inside a towering skyscraper in the city, a bald, broad-shouldered man stood before a wall of glass. His imposing figure cast a long shadow as he gazed out at the shimmering skyline.
"It's a beautiful city when you look at it from above," he said, his voice deep and composed. "But no matter how long I stare... it never calms me."
Behind him, a nervous man in a dark suit replied cautiously, "I'm sorry, boss. We're still trying to find the person who stole from us."
Fisk didn't turn around. His fists clenched behind his back.
"You've been saying that for years..." His voice grew cold. "...And still, I don't know if we're dealing with one man... or a damn organization."
Suddenly, Fisk whirled around. With a sickening crack, he slammed the man's head into the marble wall. The impact left a deep dent, but the man — Hammerhead — barely flinched, tension written all over his face.
"You're lucky you're useful," Fisk growled. "Otherwise, your namesake would be shoved so far up your ass, you'd forget how to stand upright."
He lifted Hammerhead by the throat with one hand, the raw strength in his grip making the man's feet dangle.
"You have one week. If I don't have answers... you won't see another day. I hate useless men. Is that understood?"
Hammerhead coughed, nodding quickly. "Y-Yes, sir."
Fisk released him, and he stumbled backward, bowing his head before leaving the room. But as he walked away with his eyes narrowed with quiet rage. 'Damn you, Fisk. One day... I'll make you pay. I'm not your dog forever.'
Back in the office, Wilson Fisk turned his gaze back to the golden light of morning flooding the city.
"Whoever you are... you made a big mistake stealing from me," he muttered.
For years now, someone — or something — had been siphoning off large amounts of his money. Quietly, cleanly, undetected. Ghost-like. No one knew how or when it happened. No evidence. No trace.
Every security measure, every trap, every snare had failed. Every plan to catch them had failed.
But then, just as mysteriously as it began, the thefts had stopped.
Fisk hated the unknown.
He hated not having control. He needed to know who dared to touch what was his. Why they did it. Why they vanished.
And most of all... he needed to make them pay.
...
Meanwhile, the man causing waves in the underground world was peacefully slept without a care in the world.
Ethan Carter lay in bed with eyes half-lidded with a lazy smile as sunlight filtered into the room. In his bed — warm, spacious, and sunkissed by the mid-morning light he lay with two women entwined beside him.
One was Jean Grey, her red hair tangled over his chest, soft breaths rising and falling. The other was Anna Marie, strong and curvy, tucked against his side with an arm draped possessively over his stomach.
They had been up late. Very late.
Last night had been... wild. It had started sweetly — gentle touches, whispers, playful teasing. But once the dam broke, it was chaos in the most beautiful way.
The kind of night where time melted and only pleasure remained. They had gone at it until 6 a.m., only stopping because Jean couldn't move anymore, and Anna finally tapped out at 9 a.m.
Ethan was still ready for more. His stamina was almost infinite, but he wasn't selfish. He looked at them now, both curled up in the aftermath, and smiled.
'This is the life I love,' he thought. 'And I'm never letting it go.'
Jean stirred first, groaning softly as her eyes opened halfway. Her face scrunched as she moved her leg and winced, "God... I can't feel my legs," she mumbled.
Ethan grinned and kissed her on the forehead. "Guess I got a little carried away last night, huh?"
Jean glared at him through half-lidded eyes. "Carried away? Ethan, I think you tried to imprint your soul into me."
He laughed. "I'll make it up to you. Breakfast in bed?"
"You'd better make me breakfast, dinner, and maybe give me a foot massage too," Jean muttered, though she smiled and snuggled closer. "I'm not even mad. Just... sore."
Anna finally groaned and rolled over. "Y'all are loud. Can I sleep another hour?"
"Sorry," Ethan said, chuckling. "Didn't know you got tired."
Anna gave him a lazy smirk. "Oh, I'm not tired. I'm just resting so I can flip you over next time."
"Is that a challenge?," he said while narrowing his eyes.
Jean rolled her eyes but smiled warmly. "We should get up anyway. Today's important."
"Right," Ethan nodded. "Scott and Madelyne had their baby yesterday."
Anna rubbed her eyes and sat up. "Think he has laser eyes or dream-walking powers?"
Jean shrugged. "No idea. But Maddie's been quiet lately. I think she's trying to be better — for the baby."
Ethan stood before stretching his arms, "Let's go give our congratulations."
After some shared kisses and a quick round of teasing in the bathroom, the trio cleaned up and got dressed.
Jean wore a smart red blouse and black jeans, Anna chose her usual jacket and jeans combo, and Ethan kept it casual in a black shirt and fitted slacks.
As they gathered in the living room, Jean paused and touched Ethan's arm.
"You sure you don't want to use the sling ring?"
Ethan smirked. "Nah. That's training wheels."
He extended a hand and the air shimmered — reality folding into a golden spiral as a portal opened to Xavier's Mansion.
Anna whistled. "Show-off."
"I learned it with passion," Ethan said while holding out a hand.
Jean took it. Together, the three stepped through the portal — into a new moment of peace, family, and the curious future that lay ahead.
....
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