Natasha's bedroom was in complete disarray. She lay on the floor, drenched in sweat with disheveled hair and blood at the corner of her mouth, her face ghostly pale.

Her half-open eyes glared at Andrew with intense hatred, while he sat casually on the couch, sipping his tea as if nothing had happened. Unlike Natasha's battered state, not a single thread on Andrew's clothing was out of place.

"Wait, so you two weren't… you were actually fighting?" the bearded enforcer asked in disbelief.

A