Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 694: Natalya: Queen of the Underworld

The sharp, rhythmic clap of Natalya’s hands sliced through the heavy silence of the arena, echoing like a gunshot in the blood-drenched air. The crowd, still stunned by the brutality of the fight, erupted into cheers at the sound, their voices rising in a deafening wave of excitement and awe.

The announcer, snapping back to reality, grabbed the mic with shaking hands, his voice cracking as he declared, "The winner is—Death!"

Natalya stepped into the cage, her leather boots crushing the bodies of her fallen bodyguards beneath her heels, their blood smearing the polished leather.

She walked closer, her dark eyes locked onto me, her gaze sharp and unwavering, like a queen surveying her newest conquest. The crowd cheered, but she ignored them, her attention solely on me.

"You are mine from now on," she declared, her voice cold and commanding, leaving no room for argument. "Do you have any objection?"

I held her gaze, my voice steady, respectful. "I have no objection, Ma’am."

But inside, my mind raced. The thought of such a woman—strong, ruthless, untouchable—falling for me sent a jolt of something primitive through my veins. Anticipation. Challenge.

Natalya smirked, satisfied, her lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. "Good," she said, her voice smooth as whiskey, but edged with steel. "Now, come with me."

The crowd cheered as we walked out of the arena, Natalya’s remaining bodyguards—four armed men—falling into step behind us, their eyes cold, watchful, obedient.

The limo waited outside, sleek, black, armored, a symbol of Natalya’s power and influence. She slid into the backseat, her movements fluid, confident, like a predator claiming her territory.

She gestured for me to follow, and I climbed in, my eyes immediately landing on a file resting on the seat—marked with the name "Viper".

Natalya picked it up, her fingers tracing the letters, her eyes scanning the contents with a sharp, analytical gaze. "Viper," she murmured, her voice low, thoughtful. "So that’s your real name?"

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "Yes, Ma’am."

She studied me for a long moment, her gaze piercing, assessing, like a queen deciding the worth of a new subject. Then, she set the file aside, her voice firm, final. "Just call me Boss," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for disobedience.

"Yes, Boss," I replied, my voice respectful, obedient.

The car started, the engine purring smoothly as we pulled away from the arena. Natalya leaned back in her seat, her eyes narrowing as she studied me, her gaze sharp, calculating. "You look younger than your age," she observed, her voice laced with curiosity, probing. "How old are you, Viper?"

"Old enough to survive, Boss," I replied, my voice even, unrevealing.

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by my evasiveness. "How did you learn to fight like that?" she pressed, her gaze unwavering, demanding. "Was it in prison? Because, according to this," she tapped the file, "you were just a civilian before that."

I nodded, keeping my answer vague, letting the implication hang in the air. "I was lucky to meet some fighters in prison," I said, knowing the weight of my words.

Russian jails were notorious for housing killers, assassins, men who knew how to survive in the darkest corners of the world. She seemed to accept it, nodding slowly as she put the file away, though her eyes remained sharp, searching.

"You killed my personal bodyguards," she said, her voice cold, almost amused, but edged with something dangerous. "Five men, Viper. Five trained fighters. And you ended them like they were nothing." She leaned forward, her gaze intense, predatory. "Tell me, who is going to protect me now?"

"I am sorry, Boss," I replied, my voice sincere, but unapologetic.

She waved a hand, dismissing my apology with a regal gesture. "From now on, you are in charge of my safety," she declared, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something almost excited. "Do you know how to use a gun?"

I nodded, meeting her gaze without flinching.

"Good," she said, leaning back slightly, her voice smooth, but edged with steel. "I didn’t know those five were so weak," she muttered, more to herself than to me, her tone laced with disappointment. "I thought they were stronger."

She paused, then fixed me with a piercing gaze, her eyes sharp as blades. "Have you ever met anyone stronger than you, Viper?"

"Yes," I replied, holding her gaze, unwavering. "But only one."

She raised an eyebrow, waiting, her expression unreadable.

"You, Boss," I said, my voice smooth, confident, but edged with something dangerous. "You are stronger than me... because I work for you."

A slow, dangerous smirk curved her lips, her eyes gleaming with amusement, something almost predatory. "Hmm," she murmured, her voice low, dangerous. "I like you more and more, Viper."

But then, her expression darkened, her voice turning cold, deadly, like the edge of a knife. "I hate betrayal the most," she warned, her eyes locking onto mine, unblinking, unforgiving. "And spies. If you lie to me, if you deceive me, I will find out. And I will make you regret it."

I met her gaze, unflinching, unbroken. "I won’t let you down, Boss," I promised, my voice steady, final, edged with something dark, something promising.

Natalya reached for a decanter of amber liquor, pouring two glasses with practiced ease. She handed one to me, her fingers brushing mine for a moment, her touch cold, commanding. Then, she drained hers in a single, smooth gulp, her throat working as she swallowed, her eyes never leaving mine.

The car hummed beneath us, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows, the air thick with tension, with promise, with danger. The game had begun.

The amber liquor burned down my throat, smooth yet fierce, much like the woman sitting across from me. Natalya closed her eyes, leaning back against the plush leather seat, her long, toned legs crossing with effortless grace.

The way her lips parted just slightly, the curve of her neck exposed under the dim light, sent a jolt of something primitive through me. I gripped the glass tighter, restraining the urge to reach out, to pull her against me, to taste that arrogant smirk right off her mouth. But I held back. Patience was the key here.

The car glided to a stop, the engine purring softly before falling silent. Natalya’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze sharp and unreadable as she murmured, "We’re here."

The door opened from the outside, and I stepped out after her, the cool night air hitting my face. The villa loomed before us—a massive, imposing mansion, its dark stone walls lit by flickering spotlights.

Guards patrolled the perimeter, their rifles slung over their shoulders, eyes scanning the darkness with military precision. Natalya’s bodyguards, who had followed us in the second car, stood at attention near the entrance, their faces impassive, their hands resting on their weapons.

Natalya glanced at me over her shoulder, her voice cool and commanding. "Come with me, Viper."

I followed, my boots silent on the marble floors as we stepped into the mansion. The bodyguards stopped at the threshold, their eyes tracking us but never crossing the line.