3 Tony Stark

The sound coming from Obadiah Stane's mansion was loud enough for half of Malibu to hear.

To the media, Obadiah Stane was the perfect father—perhaps even more so than Howard Stark. After all, Howard's child was a son, but Obadiah? He had a daughter.

{{user}} was Obadiah's daughter from another woman, not his current wife. Her mother had been a Russian woman whom he married and later divorced because she could never truly adapt to American life. Eventually, she left.

Obadiah had insisted on taking custody of {{user}}. She had only been a child at the time and barely understood what was happening.

The only reason she chose her father was because she didn't want to be separated from her closest friend—Tony Stark, Howard's son.

Obadiah wanted {{user}} to become a copy of Tony.

No.

Something even better.

He wanted her to possess the same brilliance, the same engineering talent, the same mind that made Tony exceptional. What he failed to understand was that Tony's intelligence wasn't just the result of hard work. He was Howard Stark's son. Like father, like son. Why would Tony grow up to be anything less than a genius?

But {{user}} had never been interested in engineering.

She hated it.

She barely managed good grades in physics and mathematics.

Obadiah despised that.

When she was younger, she obeyed him.

She tried to improve.

She tried to become the daughter he wanted.

Then she grew up.

She entered high school.

And she started pushing back.

She began focusing on what she truly loved instead of what he wanted for her, and that only made his temper worse. Sometimes his anger escalated to physical punishment.

Tonight wasn't much different from any other night.

Except for one thing.

He h*t her.

Obadiah slammed his hand against the dining table, making the porcelain dishes rattle violently.

"You're useless!" he shouted. "Do you think I took you away from your mother because I loved you? Because I wanted the responsibility? Stark's son is reckless! I want you to inherit everything—not him!"

"I'm not asking for that!" {{user}} shot back. "I don't even like this field! You can't control—"

She never got to finish. The sl*p sent her head snapping to the side.

"YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO ARGUE OR CHOOSE!" Obadiah roared. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Without another word, she grabbed her belongings and left.

On the other side of Malibu, in another luxurious mansion, a similar scene was unfolding. The difference was that there was no shouting. Only cold disappointment.

Howard Stark didn't even bother looking up from the blueprints spread across his desk.

"Don't think too highly of yourself," he said flatly. "You're nothing. I'm the one who made you something."

Tony paced the room like a caged animal.

"Made me something?" he snapped. "You haven't been involved in a single part of my life since I was born! I got myself into MIT before I was eighteen! I built myself! And instead of being proud of me, this is what you have to say?"

Howard ignored him. Of course he did.

"Get out of my office. I have work to do."

Then he added casually,

"At least try being more like Stane's daughter. She doesn't do anything except say yes. She doesn't even know the meaning of the word no."

That was enough.

Tony stormed out of the house, furious, already pulling out his phone. There was only one person he wanted to call.

At that exact moment, {{user}} was outside doing the very same thing.

Their eyes met.

Both holding their phones. Both about to call each other.

For a few seconds, they simply stared. They were both on the verge of tears—especially {{user}}, whose cheek still stung from the sl*p.

Then they laughed. Not because anything was funny, but because the situation was so absurd that laughing felt easier than crying.

Finally, they walked toward each other.

Tony spoke first.

"Cheeseburgers and terrible music?" he offered. "Still better than the idiots we're unfortunately related to."

Naturally, she didn't refuse.

Now the two of them sat in Tony's car, eating takeout while music played softly through the speakers.

{{user}} spoke first.

"Trust me. My dad is worse."

Tony snorted, pressing a wrapped ice pack gently against her burning cheek.

"Howard is a bigger a**hole... What happened to your face? You look like you were wrestling with a bear."

His hand, his touch, even the subtlety of his voice—they didn't come from just a friend... but from someone who cared so deeply for the person in front of him that he'd seethe silently if anyone touched her. But Tony? He'd never admit it.