The woman before him was Natasha Romanoff, known as Black Widow. Mercer was no stranger to her.
It seemed Natasha was a member of S.H.I.E.L.D. no matter which universe she was in.
Mercer was simply speechless. Why did they send her out whenever anything happened? She really was their go-to tool.
"You actually know me?"
Natasha was stunned when Mercer identified her so easily.
Even Stark couldn't uncover her true identity, so how had this young man named her and revealed who she was straightaway?
He knew where she came from, rendering all the talking points Natasha had prepared useless.
But since he already knew who had sent her, Natasha dispensed with the preliminaries and casually sat in the chair opposite Mercer, as though he had been waiting for her all along.
Studying the boy before her, the seasoned agent immediately estimated his age. He had to be seventeen or eighteen.
Why had she never heard of a man so young possessing such terrifying abilities?
And although he clearly looked Chinese American, his eyes were an unusual blue-green. His gaze held neither deeply concealed intentions nor the usual male scrutiny of her figure and face.
Instead, his eyes had a clarity rarely seen even among young people. Who could have imagined that this boy had plunged all of Manhattan into panic not long ago?
As she gathered her words, Natasha deliberately tucked the hair beside her ear behind it.
The gesture was especially alluring coming from a woman already so captivating. Several men couldn't help glancing over, much to their female companions' displeasure.
It was a technique she had honed through years of social interaction. Her every smile and frown could steal a person's heart.
Clink, clink, clink.
Her only answer was the sound of Mercer's knife cutting his steak.