Three months into our expanded relationship, we'd settled into a comfortable rhythm.
The underground facility was fully operational—a state-of-the-art base hidden beneath the city with living quarters, training rooms, a tech lab, and enough security to keep even SHIELD at bay. Maya had moved in officially, and the three of us had developed an easy dynamic that worked.
Mornings usually started with training. Evenings often ended with the three of us tangled together in bed, exploring each other in new and creative ways.
But today was business.
"We have a problem," Felicia announced, spreading surveillance photos across the conference table. "Kingpin's been asking questions about us. Well, not us specifically—about the anomalies in the criminal underworld. Money moving in unexpected ways. His people suddenly forgetting certain meetings."
I studied the photos. Wilson Fisk—the Kingpin himself—meeting with various associates. "How much does he know?"
"Not much yet. But he's suspicious. And when Fisk gets suspicious, people start dying."
Maya signed: "Do we eliminate him?"
"No," I said immediately. "Killing Fisk creates a power vacuum that could destabilize the entire city. Better to control him."
"You think you can take on the Kingpin?" Felicia asked, her tone skeptical. "He's not some low-level corporate stooge, Marcus. His mind is going to be fortress."
"Then I'll need to be smart about it." I pulled up a file on my tablet. "He's hosting a charity gala next week. I'll attend, make contact, and see if I can get close enough to touch his mind."
"And if you can't?"
"Then we'll need a backup plan."
The gala was exactly what I expected—excessive wealth on display, criminal money laundered through charitable donations, and Wilson Fisk holding court at the center like a king.
I'd brought Felicia as my date, leaving Maya to monitor from the base. She looked stunning in a silver dress that clung to every curve, drawing appreciative looks from every man in the room.
"Remember," she murmured as we entered, "Fisk is dangerous. Don't underestimate him."
"I won't."
We worked the room, making the rounds. I was building up to approaching Fisk when someone else made first contact.
"Mr. Cole," a smooth voice said behind me. "A pleasure to finally meet you."
I turned to find Wilson Fisk himself, massive and intimidating in his white suit, eyes sharp and calculating behind his polite smile.
"Mr. Fisk," I replied, extending my hand. "The pleasure is mine."
When our hands touched, I pushed—and hit a wall.
Not a literal psychic shield, but something almost as effective: a mind so disciplined, so compartmentalized, that breaking in would take time I didn't have. Fisk wasn't psychic, but decades of brutal self-control had made his mind incredibly resistant.
Fuck.
"I've heard interesting things about you," Fisk continued, releasing my hand. "A young man with surprising connections and even more surprising success. Tell me, how does someone so young build such an impressive network so quickly?"
"Careful investments and good timing," I replied smoothly. "Plus a willingness to see opportunities others miss."
"Hmm." His eyes studied me, weighing, measuring. "I admire ambition. But I'm also cautious of those who rise too quickly. In my experience, there's always a reason."
"Perhaps I'm just lucky."
"I don't believe in luck, Mr. Cole. I believe in power, strategy, and knowing when someone is playing a game they shouldn't." He smiled, but there was steel beneath it. "I hope we understand each other."
"Perfectly."
He nodded and moved on, leaving me with a cold knot in my stomach. Fisk knew something was off, even if he didn't know what. I'd have to be more careful.
"That went well," Felicia muttered sarcastically as we headed for the bar.
"He's more resistant than I thought."
"Told you. So what's the backup plan?"
Before I could answer, another voice interrupted us.
"Marcus Cole? I thought that was you."
I turned to find a stunning woman in a red dress—dark hair, dangerous curves, and eyes that missed nothing. My enhanced mind placed her immediately from the subtle tells: the way she moved, the calculation in her gaze, the barely visible edge of a weapon under her dress.
Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow.
Shit.
"Do I know you?" I asked carefully.
"Not yet," she replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "But I know you. Or rather, I've been learning about you. SHIELD has been tracking some unusual patterns in New York's criminal networks. Your name keeps coming up."
Beside me, Felicia tensed imperceptibly.
"I'm flattered SHIELD finds me interesting," I said, "but I'm just a businessman with inherited wealth. Hardly spy material."
"Hmm." Natasha moved closer, invading my personal space deliberately. Testing. "Funny thing about patterns, Mr. Cole. When you look at them long enough, they tell a story. Your story is… intriguing. Associates who suddenly become very cooperative. Competitors who inexplicably make poor decisions. It's almost like someone is influencing events behind the scenes."
"Sounds like good luck to me."
"I don't believe in luck." She echoed Fisk's earlier words, and I wondered if that was intentional. "I believe in skills, training, and abilities. Tell me—what are your abilities, Mr. Cole?"
Her hand moved to touch my arm, and I pulled back on instinct. If she touched me, I could push into her mind, but I also risked her recognizing the intrusion. Natasha Romanoff was trained to resist interrogation—she'd know if someone was in her head.
"My ability is knowing when to avoid dangerous women," I replied.
She laughed, genuine amusement in the sound. "Smart man. But I'll be watching you, Mr. Cole. Whatever you're doing, whatever game you're playing—SHIELD will figure it out. And when we do, you'll answer for it."
She walked away, leaving me with a second problem to deal with.
"Fuck," Felicia said quietly. "Black Widow and the Kingpin both have eyes on you. We need to be more careful."
"Agreed. Let's get out of here."
We returned to the base to find Maya waiting with an update.
"While you were gone, I did some digging," she signed. "SHIELD has a file on you. Nothing concrete yet, but they're building a case. They think you're either enhanced or working with someone who is."
"They're not wrong," I muttered, pouring myself a drink. "Any idea who's leading the investigation?"
"Agent Romanoff, apparently. Along with someone named Jessica Drew."
I froze. Jessica Drew—Spider-Woman. Another person on my potential recruitment list, now investigating me.
"This is bad," Felicia said, reading my expression. "If SHIELD gets enough evidence, they'll come for you. And unlike Fisk, we can't just manipulate them away."
"No," I agreed. "But maybe we don't have to. Maybe we can turn this into an opportunity."
"How?"
"By showing SHIELD that I'm more useful as an ally than an enemy. By positioning myself as someone who can help them with threats they can't handle alone." I turned to Maya. "Can you track Spider-Woman's movements? I want to know where she goes, who she meets with."
Maya nodded.
"And Felicia, I need you to dig into Romanoff. Find out what she cares about, what vulnerabilities she has. If SHIELD's going to investigate me, I'm going to investigate them right back."
"On it." Felicia moved to her workstation, already typing. "But Marcus? Be careful. These aren't street criminals or corporate executives. These are trained operatives. One wrong move and we're all fucked."
"I know. Which is why we need to be smarter than they are."
As my women worked, I retreated to my private quarters, my mind racing through scenarios and possibilities. This was always going to happen—eventually, someone would notice. I just hadn't expected it to be so soon.
But maybe Natasha showing up was a blessing in disguise. If I could turn her, if I could make her see me as an ally…
I pushed the thought aside for now. First, I needed to deal with the immediate threat. Then I could think about recruitment.
But tonight, I needed something else. Something to clear my head and remind me why I was doing this.
I found Maya in the training room, working through forms with deadly precision.
She saw me approach and signed: "Everything okay?"
"Not really. But it will be." I moved behind her, my hands settling on her hips. "I need you right now."
She turned in my arms, understanding in her eyes. "Take what you need."
Maya and I didn't make it back to the bedroom.
The training room would do just fine.
I pushed her against the padded wall, my mouth finding hers hungrily. She responded immediately, her strong legs wrapping around my waist as I lifted her.
"Fuck, I need this," I growled against her lips. "Need you."
She couldn't respond verbally, but her body told me everything. Her hands were already working on my belt, freeing my cock while I yanked her training shorts aside. She wasn't wearing anything underneath—she never did when we trained—and I slid two fingers into her pussy, finding her already wet.
"Always ready for me, aren't you?" I murmured.
She bit my shoulder in response, hard enough to leave marks, and I groaned.
I replaced my fingers with my cock, thrusting into her in one hard motion. She was tight and hot, and the sensation made my head spin. I fucked her against the wall, hard and fast, using her body to work out my frustration and fear.
She took everything I gave her, her nails raking down my back, her pussy clenching around me. When she came, it was silent but violent, her whole body shaking in my arms.
I followed moments later, spilling inside her with a groan.
We stayed like that for a moment, both breathing hard. Then she pulled back, her hands signing: "Feel better?"
"Getting there." I kissed her again, softer this time. "Thank you."
She smiled and signed: "Always. Now let's find Felicia. She'll want to help too."
We found Felicia in our shared bedroom, already naked and waiting.
"Took you long enough," she said with a grin. "Maya texted me. Said you needed stress relief."
"She's not wrong."
"Well, come here then. Let me help."
The three of us fell into bed together, and for the next hour, I lost myself in pleasure. Felicia's mouth on my cock while Maya rode my face. Both of them taking turns riding me, touching each other, putting on a show. The feeling of being inside one while tasting the other.
By the time we finished, I was thoroughly exhausted and significantly more relaxed.
"Better?" Felicia asked, curled against my side while Maya sprawled across my chest.
"Much."
"Good. Because tomorrow, we start planning how to handle SHIELD." She propped herself up on one elbow. "But tonight, we're just going to be us. No threats, no schemes. Just this."
"I like this," Maya signed.
"Me too," I agreed, pulling them both closer.
As I lay there with my two women, I felt something settle in my chest. Whatever came next—SHIELD, Fisk, cosmic threats—I wouldn't face it alone. I had Felicia's brilliance, Maya's strength, and together, we'd find a way through.
But first, sleep. Tomorrow would bring new challenges.
Tonight, I had everything I needed right here.