-?Caught in her Web?- (black widow)

Natasha's POV

The room feels like it's closing in on me.

I'm frozen in place, the pheromonal lock wrapping around my mind like chains, suffocating, mocking me. Dreykov stands there, one finger lazily hovering above the detonator, a smug grin splitting his face. And in front of him — Cleo.

She's kneeling, trembling, bruises painting her skin, blood staining the corner of her mouth.
Her eyes — God, her eyes — they're locked onto mine. Full of silent pleading. Full of trust. Trust in me.

"Cleo," I whisper, my voice breaking before I can stop it. I try to move forward, but Dreykov's hand snaps up.

"Ah ah ah," he sings, shaking his head like I'm a misbehaving pet. "One wrong move, and boom. No more Cleo."

I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms so hard I feel the sting of blood. Think, Natasha, think.

Dreykov chuckles lowly, circling Cleo like a vulture.
"You think you're still the big hero, don't you?" he says. "The noble Avenger. The fearless Black Widow." He spits the title like it's poison. "But you're nothing. Look at you. Kneeling. Helpless."

Cleo shifts slightly, trying to inch away from him. I see the flicker of panic cross her face — she's terrified, she's hurting — and I can't reach her.

"You're scared," I snap at Dreykov, desperate to keep his attention on me. "That's why you hide behind your little tricks. Pheromones. Chips in children's necks."

He laughs. Actually laughs.

"Of course I'm scared," he says mockingly. "You think it's easy controlling a world full of volatile women? Please. Fear keeps the system running. Fear... and loyalty. Two things you never quite learned."

"I was never yours," I snarl. "You never owned me. You never broke me."

"And yet," Dreykov muses, stepping casually toward me, "here you are. Powerless. Watching the only thing you care about about to die."

His hand hovers over the button again, and I see Cleo flinch.

"Stop," I blurt. "Please."

God, the word burns on my tongue.
I never beg. Never. But for her, I would. A thousand times over.

Dreykov tilts his head mockingly.
"There it is," he says softly. "The desperation. The weakness."

Cleo's head lifts slightly. She's shaking, blood dripping from her lip, but she mouths something — tiny, barely visible — "it's okay."

No. No, it's not.
I shake my head at her furiously. Tears prick the back of my eyes but I refuse to let them fall.

"I'll do anything," I say quickly, locking eyes with Dreykov. "You want me? Fine. You can have me. Just let her go."

Dreykov laughs again, slow and cruel.
"Have you? I already do." He taps his temple. "You're trapped, Natasha. Body and mind. And she," he gestures to Cleo like she's nothing, "is just a tool. Like all of you."

Cleo tries to crawl forward — her hands trembling — but the second she moves, Dreykov slams his foot against her back, knocking her down.

"Don't touch her!" I roar, struggling against the invisible leash tying me in place.

Dreykov leans in closer to me, his breath rancid against my skin.
"I should make you watch," he murmurs. "Make you see what happens to the people who think they can fight me."

I glance at Cleo again. She's gasping for air, blinking slowly like it's getting harder to stay awake.

"You don't have to do this," I say lowly, trying to appeal to whatever sliver of humanity might exist in Dreykov. "You can still walk away from this."

Dreykov's face hardens, and for a moment — just a heartbeat — I see something flicker there.
Then he smiles, slow and cold.
"No," he says. "I really, really do."

He taps the button lightly, almost teasingly.

"Say goodbye, Natasha," he whispers.

"No," I say, voice shaking. "Please. You don't have to hurt her. She's just a kid."

"Exactly," Dreykov says. "Fresh. Malleable. A perfect soldier — or a perfect corpse."

My heart is hammering against my ribs. I try to think — try to come up with some brilliant plan, some perfect move — but my mind is drowning in panic.

"Let her go," I whisper again.

"You're not in charge here," Dreykov snaps. He leans closer until his face is inches from mine. "You never were."

He turns to Cleo, still crumpled on the floor, and chuckles.

"Look at her," he says. "Weak. Pathetic. Just like you were, before I made you strong."

I can't stay quiet. I won't.

"She's stronger than you'll ever be," I hiss. "She has something you'll never understand. Heart."

Dreykov's face twists in irritation — and that's the mistake.

The smirk drops. His fingers slam the button down hard.

"CLEO!" I scream.

She lets out a small, broken noise — a whimper — before her body arches off the floor. Foam spills from her mouth. Her eyes roll back. Her body convulses violently once, twice — then goes terrifyingly still.

"Cleo!" I scream again, fighting so hard against the pheromonal lock I feel something snap in my head.
Pain explodes behind my eyes — but I don't care. I don't care.

I need to get to her. I need to fix this.

Dreykov watches me with clinical detachment, like he's observing a science experiment.
He crosses his arms casually.

"That's what happens when you defy me," he says simply.

I fall to my knees, my hands shaking so hard I can barely stay upright.

Cleo's small, broken body lies on the floor between us, motionless.

"I'll kill you," I whisper, and there's no rage left in my voice. Just a terrifying, hollow promise.
"I swear to God, Dreykov. I'll tear you apart."

He only smirks.

"You'll try."

He turns his back on me, walking back to his desk like nothing happened, like he hadn't just murdered the only good thing left in the world.

I stare at Cleo.
I stare and I pray — pray for her to move, to blink, to do something.

But she doesn't.

And inside me, something breaks. Something shatters.

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994 words and only 2 or 3 chapters and we are finished :)

Love y'all 💕