Natasha Marvel Comics Novels & Stories

Her heart ached, this was her chance to make everything right. She stood up stopping at the mirror, the woman who stared back at her, was younger, body beautiful and clear of marks, of any sign of abuse. Her hand touched her stomach, thinking of all her children she had lost. Natasha, vowing not to run away this time, she reached for her phone and scrolled to his name. Natasha remembered his smile, how his voice softened when he needed something, the pride he felt when success came easy because she made it so. Natasha was going to destroy him, slowly, thoroughly, without mercy and Ashley, she was going to reveal their sick relationship to the world.

You say such mean things with that innocent face of yours! [You even use your fans as your weapon. You’re so evil!] [We would’ve been completely duped had we not seen proof. You evil woman!] [You should quit the entertainment industry! You’re so mean; you can’t be a public figure!] … Inside the ward. Natasha was happily picking her new show, excitedly anticipating to shoot up as an international artist. By her side, her assistant was scrolling the phone, and her face turned pale. She looked at the news with disbelief.

I had seen women rehearse smiles and carefully calculated laughter. Natasha did neither, She simply entered the room… and owned it without realizing. Dinner itself surprised me, it was easy. Conversation with most people felt transactional. They wanted something or feared saying the wrong thing but Natasha was different. She challenged. Questioned. Reacted honestly. Even her frustration amused me. When she spoke about her family’s condition—that she needed marriage to inherit the company—I understood more than she realized. She thought it was about control. Perhaps partly but families like ours never acted for only one reason.

I already wasted a lot of tears for that jerk. My phone nearly fell because of that. "What's there to say? I already confided in you everything." "Who is your second-chance mate?" "Alpha Redd." "Oh, my Moon Goddess. And you accept the marriage? Natasha. He has a not-so-good record among the werewolf community. He is nothing but a pain in your ass. But he is filthy rich, okay? Others wanted to uncover where he had gotten all of his wealth, saying it comes from something illegal, but they don't have any proof for that."

It was the fact that we were up against a very strong force. And I suspected that the Circle, and some people in Weasels were in on it. “Gentlemen,” A familiar voice said, as a figure emerged from a portal. “Missed me?” Natasha had changed into a beautiful flowing skirt that hugged her curves. And a short scarf-like blouse that exposed her belly. Her bow and arrow were hung on her back. “Perhaps,” I shrugged. She took her seat close to Qyle and crossed her legs. “Don't bother seducing him. Other women aside from Mirah are just walking walls in his eyes.” Qyle smirked.

I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING but how much I always loved her. Even if she always was the one with the credits and everything, I loved her! I still do. Then why did she do all of this to me? Why...? Maybe I did something bad to her and she made me forget about it by controlling my mind. "You were so naive, Natasha," yeah, you've already stated that. "To the point that you didn't use the magic jewel which could avoid your mind from being washed and manipulated," that's because I didn't know about its existence before it was too late!

Natasha’s Strike Natasha's POV~ I stood at a folding table — my makeshift command center, littered with burner phones, encrypted drives and a laptop whose cold blue luminous sliced my face with harsh shadows. I whispered so low it was more of a venomous hiss, “Valenticia is done.” My fingers jittered across the keys as I typed, closing off a serum seepage—Lazareth’s mind-control concoction, ready to sell on the black market, a gamble to put me beyond Gregor Galden’s chokehold. My leather jacket creaked as I moved, auburn hair falling into one eye, and flickers of fear like a bad spark—he’s a betrayer, isn’t he? Gregor’s leash, his arrest a smug taunt on Seryne’s news feeds, was a chain I’d

Alexander stands beside her with his jaw set and his hand gripping her shoulder in a pose that screams solidarity and heartbreak. Behind them are the rest of the family. Camilia’s lips pursed in feigned sorrow, my father eyes cold and unreadable, and Gregory Westfield radiating smug satisfaction. I hit play. “I…” Natasha’s voice quivers, every syllable calculated for maximum effect. “I know what everyone must think of me,” she begins, dabbing delicately at her eyes. “That I’m the villain in this story. The other woman. The home-wrecker.” She pauses, letting her words hang in the air while soaking up the attention.

Natasha Blaine stood at the edge of the string lights, neither smiling nor armed with a camera crew—just there, a storm in an expensive dress. “Forgive the intrusion,” Natasha said. “I didn’t come to fight.” Ava’s spine straightened. “What did you come to do?” “To see what he sees,” Natasha said. “And to warn you.” Ava’s laugh was not kind. “You think I haven’t been warned since I was nineteen?”

She said. I took her hand and and smiled back at her. “I'm Natasha. Nat for sure.” She seemed nice, and bubbly which was weird for a goth girl. She gave me a drop-down of everything I had to know, the more important things that would help me stay out of trouble with the elites. I was surprised when she said she was only here for fun, unlike me who thought she could dream of a better life. I asked for notes and she let me know the devastating news.