This was a warm welcome.
Both sides left well satisfied.
Walter enjoyed himself thoroughly, brimming with self-confidence, convinced that Arabella was nothing but a pushover, ripe for the picking. He believed her reputation was exaggerated—how ruthless could a woman be? Surely, she only thrived under the protection of whichever man's bed she was in.
Arabella, on the other hand, was thoroughly entertained, observing the men's lewd performances with keen interest. Especially later, when Taras took over—his smoky allure, mesmerizing big eyes, and impressive form, his skill evident as he pleased two women in succession, filling the room with an air of indulgence.
As they parted, Walter, with a woman on each arm, gave Arabella a cursory nod before getting into his car and leaving. Naturally, Arabella had arranged the best room for him, bright and spacious, enough for his "exploits" to go on for hours.
Walter's men, taking after their leader, showed little respect toward Arabella as they followed him out.
Only Taras lingered, giving Arabella a respectful nod. He was trailed by three men, clearly his subordinates.
Arabella glanced at the three behind Taras, her eyes dancing with a smile as she asked, "Do you three feel confident?"
Taras's gaze paused, his captivating eyes rippling with a hint of danger. Unfazed, Arabella reached out suddenly, giving Taras's chiseled back a light pat before stepping into her car.
Taras stood still, watching her convoy disappear into the distance. Only after a long moment did his tense posture gradually relax.
One of his men, sensing something was off, stepped forward and asked, "Sir, is everything alright?"
Taras shook his head, a chill concealed within his gaze.
In that instant, he hadn't even noticed how Arabella had made her move—a touch to his waist, both numb and tingly, yet potentially lethal.
Putting away his defiance, Taras couldn't help but heighten his guard. Arabella was even trickier than he'd imagined.
As the car reached the corner, Arabella spoke up, "Stop the car."
Raven sat to the side, watching Arabella intently, waiting for her command.
"Follow them covertly. If they take out Walter, retreat. If they fail, silence them all."
Raven nodded, opened the door, got out of the car, called over a few people, and disappeared into the night.
Late at night, Albatross hadn't slept. He had been waiting in the dark for Arabella's return.
"How did a business deal take this long? Tired? Here, wipe your sweat—"
When Albatross saw Arabella step into the courtyard, he broke into a delighted smile. Under the moonlight, he held a towel and quickly stepped forward to meet her.
Arabella took the towel with a smile, unfolded it, folded it again, and then began to wipe her face clean.
Albatross watched quietly as she finished, took her hand, and asked, "Made me wait this long. Where did you go to relax?"
Arabella laughed, wrapping her arm around his neck, and explained amiably, "A guest is a guest; you have to keep them happy."
Albatross simply scooped her up in his arms. Though his face was refined and handsome, his physique was strong and powerful, his muscular arms flexed with smooth, comfortable lines.
"You've been worn out all night. Let's go back inside, and I'll give you a massage."
Arabella relaxed into his arms, playfully swinging her legs as she lazily agreed, "Alright."
As Albatross carried her inside, he asked, seemingly casually, "Where's Raven?"
"Working," she said nonchalantly, leaning comfortably against him, looking drowsy.
Hearing this, Albatross's steps didn't falter, but the smile on his face didn't reach his eyes.
On the bed inside, Arabella was stripped bare. Her body lines were exceptionally smooth, without an ounce of excess. She wasn't muscular, and there was almost no sign of any training in her physique. Anyone seeing Arabella wouldn't imagine she held the top rank in combat capabilities internationally.
Across three continents and seventeen countries, Arabella remained the top-ranked single combatant.
The ranking was published by Night Owl, an international intelligence-selling organization. From details as minor as a dog shedding a few hairs to assassination opportunities for world leaders, everything was included. Terrifyingly, any intelligence from Night Owl was guaranteed to be accurate.
So when the ranking was released five years ago, it shocked the world. That was the year Arabella took control, carving out her bloody fame worldwide.
Afterward, Arabella rarely made moves herself because Raven, ranked sixth, handled minor disturbances on her behalf.
Raven and Albatross had grown up with Arabella.
After being adopted as orphans, the two had always stayed by Arabella's side, learning all their skills from her. Over time, Raven took on the role of fighting at Arabella's side, while Albatross ended up tending to her in more intimate ways.
Albatross's hands, coated with oil, were not rough; his palms were slender, with long, distinct fingers.
His nimble hands moved over Arabella's neck, gently kneading, as he straddled her waist, hard as iron beneath him, slowly probing between her cheeks.
"Seems like you've learned some new tricks lately," Arabella murmured in pleasure, her back covered in oil, glistening under the moonlight with a tantalizing glow.
Albatross smiled at her praise, his hands following the smooth, flawless lines of her back, reaching down to her legs.
Sometimes, gentle teasing can be as stirring as a storm.
His fingers, with just the right pressure, gradually slipped inside, quickly engulfed, wrapping around hungrily.
Albatross leaned down, parted her thighs with both hands, and let his tongue explore the long, narrow cleft.
Arabella let out a satisfied hum, never one to deny herself in bed. She hid no desire and felt no shame for it.
Arabella's understanding of human nature was indifferent, and she cared even less about gender.
In her world, there were only the strong and the weak.
On the bed, it was a back-and-forth—him pressing her down, her allowing it—just part of the pleasure in their intimacy. When it came to such playful indulgence, Arabella was always cooperative. As long as both she and the man were satisfied, it was no different from conducting business.
Albatross lowered his head, his tongue slipping through the gap between her thighs, skillful and soft in a way no object could replicate. He curled his tongue, tracing carefully from behind to the front, delicately enveloping that gently flowing spot.
The bud began to bloom, teased by his tongue, each layer opening until it blossomed fully, petals upon petals.
Arabella, thoroughly pleased by Albatross's attentions, reached back and gave his arm a light tap.
Albatross, understanding her signal, first helped Arabella up. She cooperated, arching her back and lifting her hips, a picture of willing surrender. Then, he straightened, casually removing his pants.
His cock sprang free. Despite Albatross's gentle appearance, he was well-endowed, thick and veined, a sight charged with raw physicality.
With one hand, Albatross held his cock, rubbing against her center, inching closer, until the head was wet, glistening with her moisture. Only then did he lower himself, easing in shallowly at first before thrusting deeply, filling her entirely.
Albatross, naturally, was pleased with Arabella's technique.
Yet as she lay there, completely bare, her legs over his shoulders, her depths being thoroughly filled, her thoughts remained steady.
She was waiting for Raven to return; by her calculation, he should be back soon.
Right on time, Raven arrived. He didn't knock, disregarding the scene on the bed entirely. After entering, he bowed respectfully and reported, "They succeeded."
Arabella smiled contentedly, patting Albatross on the hip to signal him to continue. Her mind had already drifted to thoughts of Taras.
Taras, she thought, would offer a completely different experience in bed.
Arabella—a person thoroughly fond of novelty and quick to tire of it. Besides her meals and clothes, there was only one exception to her rule of freshness in bed: Albatross, who had been raised by her since he was young. No one else had ever lasted more than half a year in her favor.
