Gwen's love for Toby had reached its peak. After he saved her life twice—and her father's once—she felt there was only one way to truly express her gratitude.
And so, everything happened as naturally as breathing.
The encounter didn't last all night, contrary to the tropes of romance novels. Toby was an experienced "old ox," but Gwen was a completely "new field." By late afternoon, Gwen had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. Toby stepped out onto the hotel balcony, lighting a post-coital cigarette and watching the New York skyline.
He'd only taken two puffs when his phone buzzed.
It was Wilson Fisk. The Kingpin hadn't contacted him in nearly two weeks, and Fisk never called just to chat.
Toby smirked. He'd just dropped $10 million on Peter's suit; it was time to replenish the war chest. He answered the call. "My favorite benefactor. What kind of gold-plated trouble do you have for me this time?"
Kingpin's booming, jovial laugh crackled through the speaker. "Hahaha! You guessed it, Toby. I have a massive job for you. Much bigger than the Japanese gang hit I gave you last time."
Toby's eyes sharpened. The hit on the Japanese gang had paid $10 million—the highest bounty he'd ever collected. Usually, Kingpin paid a few million for a high-profile assassination. For a job to be "much bigger," the numbers had to be staggering.
These were the kind of jobs that let a man retire for a year.
Toby didn't even ask for details yet. "I'm in. Tell me the location, the target, and most importantly, the commission."
Kingpin wasn't surprised by the immediate acceptance. He'd worked with Toby long enough to know the man's philosophy: if the price was right, there was no mission too difficult. This was why Fisk valued him. Toby was more reliable than his entire personal army combined, as long as the check cleared.
And for Wilson Fisk, "Emperor of the Underworld," money was the one thing he had in infinite supply.
"Let's start with the part you like best," Kingpin said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "The commission is fifty million dollars."
Silence hung on the line for several seconds.
"Alright," Toby said finally. "Who am I killing? The President? The Secretary of Defense?"
Now it was Kingpin's turn to be silent. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "No, Toby. I don't need the President dead. If he were gone, I still couldn't win an election right now... No, this isn't my personal business. Someone reached out to me through a very specific channel."
"And this isn't an assassination. It's a rescue."
Toby frowned. "A rescue? Who is it? If it is the President or the Secretary of Defense, tell them to rot. I don't do politics."
Toby hated rescue missions. They were messy, long-winded, and came with "customer service" risks. Assassinations were clean: target dies, job done, five-star rating. Kingpin usually knew better than to offer him "hero work."
But $50 million was $50 million. That was five gang-wars' worth of work in one go.
Kingpin let out a heavy breath. "Toby, why do you hate the government so much? Anyway, you know the rules. Usually, I can't tell a merc the details until they sign on, but you're the only friend I trust. So here it is: the job is overseas. Afghanistan. The target is the CEO of Stark Industries, Tony Stark."
"Tony Stark?" Toby raised an eyebrow.
He'd expected a greasy politician. A billionaire arms dealer was much more his style. But something felt off. "I'll take it, but I have two questions."
"Go ahead," Fisk said.
"First: Tony Stark is missing? That's massive news, and I haven't heard a peep about it. How?"
"Second: For the CEO of Stark Industries, $50 million seems... cheap. He's worth billions. You're not skimming 90% off the top, are you?"
Kingpin's voice turned weary. "First: He's been missing for over two months. Stark Industries has been under a total media blackout. They're keeping it internal to protect their stock prices. I didn't even know until today."
"Second: Stark Industries isn't the one hiring. This is a private contract from his secretary, Pepper Potts. She's bypassed the board and liquidated her personal assets to fund this. She told me it's everything she has. But," Kingpin added with a chuckle, "if you actually pull him out of that hole, I imagine Tony Stark himself will be worth a hell of a lot more than fifty million once he's back."