boyutpedia Page 11
Page 11
Shen Shiya looked up at him, her eyes clear yet scrutinizing, and replied briefly, "Shen Shiya."
Her gaze swept past Harry, as if piercing through him, looking into something hidden deeper within.
"Are you sick?" Shen Shiya suddenly said something shocking, even Gu Ziyun turned around in shock.
“Uh…what?” Harry seemed to choke.
"nothing."
Shen Shiya smiled and shook her head. She could tell that the young man in front of her seemed to have some kind of illness, but it hadn't been triggered yet. Unlike the old man named Norman next to him, who was already terminally ill.
But this has nothing to do with her. Mind your own business, well, that's what Mr. Hawke said.
Harry felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze, and his smile became somewhat stiff.
Crystal chandeliers refracted dazzling light, and champagne towers flowed slowly amidst the clinking of glasses.
"It seems the collapse of Bates Capital makes tonight's champagne taste especially good."
The crisp sound of high heels clicking on the ground came from behind, accompanied by a faint scent of roses mixed with gunpowder, interrupting Hawke and Norman's confrontation.
“Mr. Hawke Lane”.
He turned around and saw a woman with fiery red hair, a deep V-neck black dress that accentuated her curves, her red lips slightly upturned, and her eyes filled with a captivating light.
Seeing this, Norman nodded and smiled at the two men before walking away.
19 Natasha's "Smith Squat"
“Natalia Romanova.” Natasha extended her hand, her Russian accent languid and sexy. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Looking at the angelic face in front of him that was exactly like Scarlett Johansson's, Hawke almost burst out laughing.
He took her hand, gently stroking her palm with his fingertips, his smile deepening: "Ms. Romanova, your name... seems more suited to appearing in a Moscow intelligence file than at a Wall Street dinner."
Natasha's eyelashes trembled slightly, but her smile remained unchanged: "Finance and intelligence, sometimes the lines are blurry, aren't they?"
“Indeed.” Hawke leaned slightly forward, his voice low. “Like your goal tonight—is it to steal my trade secrets, or…” His gaze lingered on her red lips for a moment, “…something else?”
Natasha chuckled, her fingertips lightly tracing his tie: "Perhaps I'm just curious what kind of man could wipe out Bates Capital in three weeks."
“Men’s secrets are not to be pried into casually, Ms. Romanova.” Hawke shook his head slightly and chuckled, “Unless you offer your secrets in exchange.”
“A fair deal.” Natasha raised her glass with a smile, seemingly very interested in Hawke’s deal, and even pondering what secrets she might have.
Suddenly, Romanova seemed to have thought of something. She pointed at Hawke's chest suggestively and said in a seductive voice, "Actually, I am an international intelligence broker. If Mr. Hawke has any valuable intelligence, he can sell it for a good price, or I can exchange it for intelligence of equal value."
"Wow, cool!" Hawke exclaimed with an exaggerated expression. "Well, I have a secret, I wonder how many it can sell for?"
Romanova showed interest and made a "please" gesture.
Hawke glanced around cautiously, seemingly genuinely afraid of revealing the secret, then cleared his throat and whispered:
"I... am 185 cm tall, weigh 100 kg, have eight-pack abs, and am 25 cm tall..."
"Wait a minute..." Natasha laughed at the joke, then suddenly moved closer and asked curiously, "Are you really 25 centimeters?"
As Natasha approached, Hawke examined her closely. The woman was indeed beautiful, with large, bright blue eyes, a high nose, rosy lips, a sexy and alluring aura, and a slightly cute, half-smiling expression.
"Genuine and authentic, honest and trustworthy."
“Hmm.” Natasha took a sip of her mojito with a charming air, her red lips parted slightly, “Mr. Hawke, I don’t think this is the place to talk business. I would like to discuss this issue in more detail.”
She casually picked up a pastry, an egg tart, and took a small bite with her moist red lips, revealing a blissful expression. The alluring look she gave Hawke was incredibly charming and captivating.
Hawke, a young man, was somewhat taken aback by his age and cursed inwardly, thinking, "No wonder he's such a seasoned demon; he really does become more uninhibited with age."
Two hours later, at the Ryan Building gym.
Natasha was so upset she cried...
She was taking a shower in the bathroom at that moment.
Hawke, who was wiping his sweat, picked up his phone, glanced at it, and handed it into the bathroom.
"It was a call from a man named Coulson."
"understood."
Natasha picked up the phone. "Hello, Coulson."
"Where are you? I can't find you. Your voice sounds a bit strange. It's become a little hoarse."
"It's nothing serious. I just choked a bit while drinking, and my throat is a little sore. It's nothing serious."
Natasha covered her throat and coughed.
"I'm in the gym upstairs. I drank too much earlier, so I'm here to sober up."
"Sobering up at the gym?" Coulson, who was on the perimeter providing support, was completely bewildered. What kind of operation was this?
"That's right, I just did some Smith machine squats! I'm taking a shower right now."
Hawke listened from outside and couldn't help but admire Natasha's professionalism. She had indeed done some Smith machine squats, and by mixing truth and lies, even a silly girl couldn't tell.
Coulson knew, of course, that Natasha was a fitness fanatic who often went to the gym to lift weights when she wasn't on a mission. Smith squats were a regular exercise she did, an exercise that primarily targets the glutes, outer thighs, and adductor muscles.
Although it was a bit strange, I didn't ask any further questions.
After finishing her phone call, Natasha took a shower, leaned against the wall as she walked out, and glared at Hawke.
After getting dressed and ready, the two entered the elevator together.
"So, Mr. Hawke, can you now reveal to me how you managed to secure Bates Capital in just over half a month?" Natasha smoothed her freshly dried hair, her eyes full of charm.
Unfortunately, Hawke is currently in a state of sagehood, unaffected by any debuffs, unless given another minute to recover.
“Just good luck.” Hawke shrugged, but subtly took a half step back. “However, if S.H.I.E.L.D. is interested in my ‘luck,’ Director Fury can simply ask me out for coffee. Why bother sending the infamous Black Widow to my bed?”
Natasha's pupils contracted sharply, and she paused for a moment, but her smile remained perfect: "It seems Mr. Ryan's intelligence network is quite formidable."
Hawke shook his head. “For example, I know you have a miniature communicator hidden in your ear, a ceramic dagger on your right leg bandage, and your perfume—” He lowered his head slightly and sniffed at the side of her neck, “—has a trace amount of neurotoxin mixed in, but unfortunately, it has no effect on me.”
Natasha's smile froze for a moment, but she quickly recovered: "It seems tonight's 'game' is more interesting than I expected."
“A game?” Hawke chuckled. “No, Natasha, this is not a game.”
He suddenly reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her into his arms. His thin lips almost touched her earlobe. "As agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., you should know that this world is quite dangerous."
Natasha's breath hitched slightly, but the next second, her fingertips were already pressed against his throat: "And you? Hawk Lane, whose side are you on?"
Hawke didn't flinch; instead, he smiled and said, "I'm on the side that maximizes profits."
Suddenly, the elevator stopped before reaching the top floor.
20. Stock price movements and a man's abilities are completely similar.
The elevator's down indicator light suddenly lit up, and the metal doors slid open silently to both sides.
The blinding light from the crystal chandelier outside flooded in, illuminating Hawke and Natasha, who were still not completely separated inside the elevator car, as well as the two figures outside who were about to step in.
Tony Stark, his tie loosely hanging around his neck, his white dress shirt unbuttoned three buttons, revealing his muscular chest.
He was half-embracing, half-supporting a blonde, blue-eyed, hot supermodel with a charming blush on her cheeks. The strap of her dress had slipped off one arm, and her eyes were dreamy.
Tony stepped into the elevator and looked up at the scene inside, especially Hawk's hand still around Natasha's waist, and the almost intimate atmosphere between the two. He stopped in his tracks, and his signature knowing smile with a hint of roguishness immediately appeared on his face.
“Wow…” Tony drawled, raising his eyebrows high, his gaze sweeping suggestively between Hawke and Natasha before finally settling on Natasha’s stunning face and fiery figure. “Excuse me for interrupting your… ‘deep conversation’? The elevators in the Lane Tower are really good quality, Stark Industries, aren’t they?”
He helped the model into the elevator car, and the elevator doors slowly closed.
The cramped space was instantly filled with the scents of expensive perfumes and alcohol, as well as an indescribable tension.
The supermodel seemed even more drunk, leaning against Tony, curiously looking at Natasha, and giggling dreamily, "Tony... this Russian lady... is so beautiful..."
She reached out as if to touch Natasha's red hair.
Tony quickly pressed her restless hand down and winked at Hawke: "Looks like you've had quite a haul tonight, Hawke. This lady's charm... tsk tsk, it's way more captivating than any Wall Street chart."
He made no attempt to hide his admiration for Natasha, his eyes carrying the blatant glint of a womanizer. "Mind sharing my contact information, beautiful lady? I think there are many interesting places in New York worth exploring besides Hawke."
Natasha's expression remained unchanged. She gently pulled away from Hawke's hand, and Hawke released her, leaning leisurely against the elevator wall with an expression of anticipation.
Natasha smoothed her slightly disheveled hair, turned to Tony, her red lips curving into a perfect arc, and her deep blue eyes held a hint of lazy provocation.
“Mr. Stark,” her Russian accent sounded particularly rich and charming at that moment, “New York is indeed very interesting. But I’ve heard that Stark Industries’ stock price has been fluctuating…somewhat wildly lately?”
She tilted her head slightly and asked with feigned innocence, "Just like a candlestick chart on Wall Street, right? Exploring your company's stock chart is probably much more exciting than exploring you yourself." She paused, then added, "Especially for a man who can talk endlessly."
"Pfft..." Hawke couldn't help but chuckle.
Tony's smile froze for a moment.
The Russian billionaire's response was both sharp and sarcastic, precisely hitting the sore spot where he had just been teased by Hawke about the lengthy press conference, and also questioning his abilities.
This is quite rare in Tony Stark's history of dominating New York social circles.
“Oh?” Tony immediately adjusted his expression, putting on his usual nonchalant smile again, and retorted, “It seems Miss Romanova is quite knowledgeable? Then she should know that stock price movements are exactly similar to a man’s abilities; high volatility is what makes them endlessly fun, while stability means boredom and…short-lived.”
He glanced at Hawke meaningfully, thinking that although Hawke was young, he was definitely not as strong as him.
Just as Natasha was about to continue speaking, the elevator gave a slight jolt and arrived at the top-floor banquet hall.
The elevator doors opened again, and the bright lights and the noise of the banquet hall outside rushed in instantly.
There were two people standing at the door.
Norman Osborne remained expressionless, his hawk-like eyes sharply sweeping over the four people in the elevator:
Tony, disheveled, is accompanied by a drunken supermodel, while Hawke and the strikingly beautiful redhead Natalia Romanova stand side by side, seemingly close yet subtly aura-filled.
All eyes at the banquet turned to Osborne and went into the elevator. For a moment, it fell silent, and some people even looked at the two's female companions, Andy and Pepper Potts, who had a dark expression on her face.
Harry Osborne stood half a step behind his father, his gaze once again passing over the crowd and landing on Shen Shiya, who was quietly guarding him in a distant corner.
Shen Shiya seemed to sense his gaze and glanced back coldly. Her gaze seemed to penetrate his soul, making Harry's heart skip a beat and causing him to instinctively avoid her eyes.
Norman's gaze lingered on Natasha for a couple of seconds longer, as if he were assessing something.
The air inside the elevator seemed to freeze.
Tony clearly hadn't expected to run into the Osborns as soon as the elevator doors opened, especially Norman's scrutinizing gaze, which annoyed him.
He instinctively wanted to push the drunken supermodel in his arms away a little, to appear somewhat more dignified.