The heavy iron door of the training dojo groaned as Ethan slid it shut. He didn't look back at the training mats. He had other things on his mind.
"Who could have built that?" Gwen asked, her voice tight. She paced the length of the foyer, moving with sharp, predatory steps. "It was tech from another world. That wasn't scavenged junk from an alley fight. That was military-grade dimensional tracking. Whoever built that knows exactly what I am."
Ethan leaned against the grand staircase banister. "It’s a concern, for sure. But whoever did it doesn't have a direct line to your location anymore."
He crossed his arms. "The beacon seemed crude, and it vanished almost immediately. It may be just a defective product. Dying after giving out its last breath."
Gwen stopped pacing, her brow furrowing. "But still, it’s not something we can just shrug off."
"I know," Ethan said. "I need to start asking around the underground. Someone in Hell's Kitchen has a very expensive, very illegal toy. Hardware like that leaves a paper trail, and it can't be left in the hands of just anybody."
He checked his watch and waved a hand toward the stairs. "Training is finished for today. Go wash up, get some food. I will go talk to a person who knows how to ask around."
Gwen blew out a frustrated breath, but she nodded. She turned and headed up the stairs toward the guest wing.
Ethan watched her go before turning his attention to the library.
The soft, rhythmic swipe of a feather duster echoed from the mahogany bookshelves. Natalie stood near a display case. In the French maid uniform, she looked immaculate, but Ethan could read the coiled tension in her posture.
"Drop the duster," Ethan said, walking into the room.
Natalie paused. She turned, her expression shifting instantly from vacant servant to calculating operative.
"I need you to pull your S.H.I.E.L.D. strings," Ethan told her. "Someone in Hell's Kitchen is playing with multiversal scrap. Find out who bought it."
Natalie set the duster down on the table. She closed the distance between them with slow, measured steps.
"I can get you a name," Natalie said smoothly, her green eyes locking onto his. "But my intel isn't free. I’ve already learned to channel the dimensional energy. When are you going to teach me real spells?"
Ethan looked down at her. She was testing her leverage.
He stepped closer. He could smell the sharp, expensive scent of her perfume mixed with a faint, metallic trace of gun oil. His hand snaked out, sliding smoothly up her thigh and slipping directly under the short, frilled edge of her maid skirt.
His large palm found her bare ass. The skin was incredibly smooth and radiating heat. He gripped her firmly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, slowly massaging the curve of her cheek.
Natalie let out a soft, startled gasp at the sudden, heavy grip. Her professional mask cracked for a fraction of a second.
But she didn't pull away.
Her Red Room conditioning took over. She leaned forward, pressing her chest flush against his torso. She tilted her head, her lips parting into a sultry, inviting smile.
"Too eager, aren't you?" Ethan murmured, his thumb tracing the warm skin of her hip.
"What can I say?" Natasha purred, her hands sliding up to rest lightly on his chest. "I am a very curious person. Always eager to learn more."
Neither of them noticed the shadow on the landing above.
Gwen stood at the top of the grand staircase. She had just stepped out of the shower. An oversized shirt clung to her damp skin, and a towel was wrapped around her wet blonde hair.
She looked down into the library.
She saw Ethan’s hand buried under the black-and-white skirt. She saw Natalie pressed against him, looking entirely willing and dangerously seductive.
Pure, blinding jealousy slammed into Gwen's chest. It wasn't a spider-sense warning; it was a raw, visceral territorial instinct. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the wooden banister.
"Slutty bitch," Gwen muttered under her breath.
Her jaw locked tight. She didn't scream. She didn't interrupt. She turned sharply on her heel and marched back down the hall toward her bedroom.
If Ethan wanted to play games with the maid, Gwen was going to remind him exactly who ran this house.