He wore an expensive custom-tailored suit, holding a leather folder in his hand, his expression a mix of concern and affection.
Obadiah Stane, Vice Chairman of Stark Industries, an old veteran from Howard's era, and one of the business partners Tony relied on most after taking over the company.
"Tony." Obadiah's voice was low and gentle, carrying the concern of an elder.
"We scheduled to discuss the third-quarter arms sales proposal at ten, and it's already ten-twenty."
Tony glanced at the clock on the wall: "Oh, right, sorry Obie, got held up by something."
He pointed at the motorcycle: "Mavuika's motorcycle is broken, I have to take care of it first."
Obadiah's gaze turned to Mavuika, quickly sizing her up.
Young, beautiful, with a unique aura, but dressed plainly; she didn't look like a socialite or a business partner.
His brow furrowed slightly, but he quickly regained his professional smile.
"And this is?" he asked politely.
"Mavuika, a friend of mine." Tony introduced her simply.
"Mavuika, this is Obadiah Stane, the company's Vice Chairman."
Mavuika nodded at Obadiah, smiling appropriately: "Mr. Stane."
"Pleasure to meet you." Obadiah responded, but his attention quickly returned to Tony.
"Tony, that proposal involves a 1.6 billion dollar contract. The Deputy Secretary of the Department of Defense needs a preliminary response by this afternoon; we need to finalize the quote and delivery schedule..."
"I know, I know." Tony waved his hand and bent down again to check the motorcycle.
"You talk, I'm listening. The shock absorbers need replacing, the rim can be repaired but I suggest just replacing it with a new one... continue."
Obadiah took a deep breath, clearly not very satisfied with this way of working, but he opened the folder: "According to our cost analysis, if we use the new composite material casing, the production cost per missile can be reduced by 7%, but the R&D investment will need to increase..."
He began to explain the figures in detail, while Tony listened, starting to disassemble the motorcycle's front wheel.
His movements were precise and efficient; even while multitasking, his work efficiency was not affected in the slightest.
Wrenches, sockets, and torque wrenches switched fluently in his hands, like a Doctor using surgical instruments.
Mavuika quietly stepped aside, leaving them room to talk.
She wandered around the studio, looking at the various design sketches posted on the wall—some were weapons systems, some were energy devices, and others looked like products of Tony's pure whims.
On one sheet of paper was a concept drawing of an armor that could fly, with "Maybe someday?" scrawled next to it.
She walked to the window and looked out at the New York skyline.
The morning sunlight dyed the glass curtain walls gold, and the traffic on the streets looked as small as toys.
Mavuika closed her eyes, feeling the pulsating energy of this city, the lives of millions flickering like stars...
Suddenly, her eyelids flickered slightly.
A kind of distant and abnormal energy fluctuation, like a stone thrown into a calm lake, rippled through her perception.
Mavuika opened her eyes, a glimmer of golden-red light flashing in her amber pupils.
She turned to look at Tony; he was arguing with Obadiah about the purchase price of some alloy while tightening a bolt.
"Tony." Mavuika spoke, her voice calm: "I have something to attend to, I'm going to head out."
Tony didn't even look up, focused on the torque wrench in his hand: "Bye, when the motorcycle is fixed, I'll have someone send it to you."
"Thanks." Mavuika nodded with a smile and walked toward the door.
Obadiah finally couldn't hold back; once the studio door slid shut behind Mavuika, he turned to Tony, his expression serious: "Tony, we need to talk."
"Talk about what?" Tony finally put down his tools and picked up a cloth to wipe his hands: "About the titanium alloy quote? I think it's possible to squeeze another 0.5 dollars per kilogram, but we'd need to commit to an annual purchase volume..."
"Not that." Obadiah interrupted him, stepped forward, and lowered his voice.
"What's the deal with that woman?"
Tony raised an eyebrow: "What about her?"
Obadiah's expression was a mix of disappointment and worry: "Tony, I know you're young and like to play around; that's normal. But you are now the CEO of Stark Industries, and the company's revenue is calculated in the tens of thousands of dollars per minute."
"You postponed an important business meeting to personally be here... repairing a motorcycle? For a girl?"
He paused, his tone becoming more serious: "And you let her come and go as she pleases in your private studio? How many company secrets are here, how many unannounced weapon designs? Tony, I know you might think I'm old-fashioned, but this kind of thing... is a bit too much."
Tony was stunned; he looked at Obadiah, his expression becoming very strange.
Obadiah misunderstood this expression: "What? Am I wrong? I shouldn't need to remind you how much the Stark Industries revenue is per minute, right?"
"For this kind of woman, just throwing some money at her or having her keep you company occasionally is enough. As the dignified CEO of Stark Industries, you're personally helping her fix a motorcycle? Small matters like this, just let her go find a repair shop to solve it herself."
Tony's mouth began to twitch; he put down the cloth he was using to wipe his hands and looked at Obadiah with a strange gaze.
"Stop!" Tony finally couldn't help but interrupt him, then whispered as if talking to himself.
"Although I'm curious about her reaction if she heard this kind of talk... but for the sake of my safety for the rest of my life, don't say these things again!"
Obadiah didn't understand at all: "Isn't that the case? I'm doing this for your own good, Tony. With your current position, how many people are watching you? How many competitors want to find dirt on you?"
"Getting entangled with a girl of unknown origin and delaying important business for her... if this gets out, it will affect the company's image and investor confidence..."
"Obie..." Tony sighed and walked to the coffee machine to pour himself a cup.
"First of all, Mavuika is not a 'girl of unknown origin,' and secondly, she and I are not in that kind of relationship you're thinking of."
"Then what kind of relationship is it?" Obadiah pressed, his tone clearly disbelieving.
"She doesn't look like a business partner or a technical consultant... Tony, I've known you for so many years; when have you ever been so interested in fixing someone else's motorcycle?"
Tony took a sip of coffee, thinking about how to explain without revealing Mavuika's true identity.
Finally, he said: "We are... friends. Helping her fix the motorcycle is something I promised to do. And honestly, her motorcycle always breaks in very 'creative' ways; the repair process itself is like solving a puzzle, which is a form of relaxation for me."
He turned to look at Obadiah, his expression becoming serious: "As for the safety issue... Obie, trust me, that's the last thing you need to worry about."
"And don't say things like me being entangled with her again. Although I wouldn't mind, it's probably impossible for her to be interested in me... right?"