"Has West End lost all its pride?" Conan demanded.
Natasha waved her hand dismissively and gritted her teeth. "Everyone out—I can't blame anyone when I'm simply outmatched. I underestimated him, and even if you all attacked together, you'd just be throwing your lives away."
Conan and the other two men reluctantly withdrew, but this time, he remained stationed right outside the door. He wanted to be ready to rush in if Natasha needed help, though he knew they stood no chance against someone who could defeat her.
"I admit now that you surpass me in both combat skills and intelligence," Natasha said blankly. "You even have mysterious connections with Marvin and Mark. I can't beat you, Andrew, so do what you will with me."
For the first time, Natasha felt utterly defeated. She had never underestimated Andrew, but she had clearly misjudged him completely.
She had admired him and wanted him to work for West End, believing her status, charm, and fighting prowess would be enough to t
