"So this is the one show that has gained a different kind of reputation across Manhattan?" The red-haired woman, clad in a sleek bodysuit that hugged her elegant form, spoke into her earpiece.
"Agent Natasha Romanoff, watch your surroundings. The man at two o'clock is the owner of the gallery."
"Got it. I'll find a way to get closer to him."
"Be careful. This person has a small connection to a British nobleman named Kent Aaron, who was mentioned in our files ten years ago. We're not sure..."
With that, the red-haired woman turned off her earpiece and cautiously moved closer.
In the Manhattan area of the Big Apple, a place called Hell's Kitchen, order belonged to the dark underground forces, both day and night. It was a place of tyranny and struggle, a symbol of freedom and democracy in this country, to a certain degree.
Although Aaron didn't particularly like this place, it was a good spot to settle down.
"Did you paint this?" A cold voice sounded in Aaron's ear.
Aaron, who was walking through the eastern section of the exhibition hall, stopped, turned, and saw a woman in her fifties standing behind him, flanked by several security guards.
Putting on a professional smirk, Aaron nodded. "Madam, is there something wrong with the painting?"
"How about you sell it to me? I'll give you five dollars."
The woman's offer was sincere, but the price was insulting. Five dollars for one of his paintings? Was she trying to provoke him? Aaron smiled. He knew who the old woman was, but her attitude was making him uncomfortable.
"Five dollars?" Aaron repeated, calmly staring at the woman and her bodyguards. "Are you saying you want to take this painting from me by force?"
"It doesn't have to be like that." The woman folded her arms across her chest, looking at Aaron's pale face. "This painting shouldn't belong to you, so give it to us. We can guarantee you'll live well in Hell's Kitchen. Not even that fat pig Kingpin will be able to touch you."
Aaron frowned. Was this the level of their approach?
To Aaron, the painting was just an ordinary piece of art. But to these people, it was clearly something extraordinary.
"You're not qualified," he said.
He then, with his bare hands, lifted the woman and the bodyguards, throwing them out of the gallery. "Go and tell your master that if he wants to take this painting from me, he should think about how many lives he'll have to pay to get it."
The cold voice was hypnotic. The people who heard it ran away without a word.
"Tsk, tsk, Boss Aaron is really domineering!" a charming voice cooed.
Aaron looked back and saw the red-haired woman in the bodysuit, standing not far away, staring at him strangely. The woman exuded an annoying aura. Aaron frowned, stared at her, and said, "Get lost." He then turned and left.
In her earpiece, a voice whispered, "Natasha Romanoff, be careful not to anger this person. His status is very unusual. I suggest you shift your attention to the underground."
"Understood."
As a professional agent, she knew her usual beauty tactics wouldn't work on the man in front of her. She immediately launched Plan B. Since she couldn't charm him, she'd find his weakness.
Later that night, everything in the gallery became eerily quiet. It was clear tonight was destined to be a sleepless one.
Aaron sat quietly in his studio. The pen in his hand didn't seem to be stained with red or black paint, but after a careful sniff, there was a smell of blood.
"They're coming," he said with a smile, but he remained silent, waiting for the unknown intruders to walk into his hell.
"Be careful. The gallery owner is no ordinary person. Don't get caught!" a voice whispered in the dark.
"Don't worry. We've done plenty of jobs. This is just a kid."
"Just be careful. There's no harm in that. Let's go!"
With sophisticated tools, the thieves began to cut the gallery's glass, trying not to make a sound. But what they didn't know was that their every move was being watched.
Two buildings away, Natasha Romanoff, a high-level S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, was watching everything through a telescope and an infrared scanner.
Inside the gallery, Aaron was also quietly waiting for them to arrive.
(End of Chapter)
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