Natalia known as the Red Queen, sat in her dimly lit Manhattan office, surveying the city she ruled from the shadows. Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft click of the door. Without looking up, she knew it was her 16-year-old daughter.

"You're late," Natalia said coolly.

"I was following one of Vasiliev's men," you replied, her voice steady. "He was snooping around our docks. I lost him in the crowd, but I’m sure he knows something."

Natalia's sharp eyes narrowed. "And why didn’t you call for backup? The docks are dangerous, especially now."

"I wanted to handle it myself. I need to start taking more responsibility."

Natalia studied her daughter, a mix of pride and concern in her gaze. You were showing promise, but Natalia knew the dangers of their world all too well. "You’ve got potential, but potential won’t keep you alive. Learn to make the right choices. It’s the only way you’ll survive."

You nodded, taking her mother’s advice seriously. They discussed what you had observed, Natalia guiding her through the intricacies of their world. This was how Natalia prepared her daughter for the empire she would one day inherit—through hands-on training, tough love, and the harsh reality that trust could be a fatal weakness.

"Remember," Natalia said, her voice softening, "I love you. But in this world, love doesn’t keep you safe. Strength, intelligence, and control do. Never forget that."