Orion Voss was only twenty-one, but in the high-stakes world of billionaires, he was already a legend. In just two years, he’d turned a modest startup into a jaw-dropping empire worth three billion dollars. His meteoric rise had made headlines, sparked envy, and even fueled wild speculation about what he’d do next. Some whispered that if he ever set his sights on Stark Industries, he could probably buy it without breaking a sweat.

At a recent press conference, the topic came up—because of course it did. “Mr. Voss, any interest in investing in Stark Industries?” a reporter dared to ask.

Orion smiled his polished, press-ready smile and gave a perfectly vague answer: “Maybe... maybe.” His voice was light, teasing, like he was tossing breadcrumbs to a flock of reporters. The room practically vibrated with anticipation, but Orion wasn’t about to give them more. He knew how the media worked—turning offhand comments into scandalous headlines was their bread and butter.

The crowd buzzed with a mix of excitement and anxiety; Tony Stark was set to make some kind of announcement, and no one knew what to expect. Celebrities mingled with reporters, all jockeying for the best spots near the stage. Orion took it all in from the back, his sharp eyes scanning the room. He didn’t need to be front and center to make an impression—his mere presence was enough to set tongues wagging.

Across the room, Agent Coulson stood chatting with Pepper Potts. Or rather, Coulson was asking questions, and Pepper was doing her best not to roll her eyes at his persistence. He was fishing for details about Tony Stark’s miraculous escape from captivity—a feat that had left more questions than answers. The Ten Rings gang didn’t exactly hand out get-out-of-jail-free cards, and Tony’s survival bordered on the supernatural.

Then Coulson’s gaze shifted, and he froze mid-sentence. His eyes locked onto Orion, exuding confidence and charisma. Coulson leaned toward Pepper. “What’s he doing here?”

Pepper followed his gaze, her brow furrowing as she spotted Orion. “Orion? Why does it matter? Is he on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s radar?”

“No,” Coulson admitted, though his tone suggested yet. “It’s just... surprising. Is he a friend of Tony’s?”

Pepper’s laugh was quiet but incredulous. “Friend? No. I mean, Tony knows who he is—everyone does—but they’ve never met. Orion isn’t exactly the weapons-and-ego type.”

Coulson filed that away, his curiosity piqued, but he knew Pepper wouldn’t be much help. With a nod of thanks, he stepped aside, leaving her to mingle. When Tony finally entered, the room fell silent. Bandages peeked out from under his tailored suit, but his swagger was still intact. He strode to the podium with Happy Hogan trailing behind like an ever-watchful shadow.

“Alright, everyone, take a seat,” Tony ordered, his tone equal parts charm and arrogance. “Let’s get this over with before my coffee gets cold.”

The audience obeyed, some out of respect, others out of fear of becoming Tony’s next punchline. Orion stayed where he was, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He watched as Tony surveyed the crowd, his sharp eyes lingering briefly on Orion. There was a flicker of recognition—or maybe curiosity—but Tony didn’t stop. Not yet.

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“I’m here to make an announcement,” Tony began, his voice steady despite the chaos that was surely brewing inside him. “As of today, Stark Industries will no longer manufacture weapons.”

The room erupted into stunned whispers. Investors looked like they’d been sucker-punched, their faces pale with disbelief. Tony Stark—the king of weapons manufacturing—was shutting down his golden goose? It was bold, reckless, and quintessentially Stark. Orion, however, remained unmoved. If anything, his smirk deepened. This was exactly the kind of stunt he expected from someone like Tony—dramatic, game-changing, and guaranteed to make headlines.

Tony’s eyes flicked to Orion again, as if gauging his reaction. But Orion’s calm, almost amused expression revealed nothing. If Tony had hoped to rattle the young billionaire, he’d failed spectacularly. As the room buzzed with shock, Orion turned to leave. He’d seen enough. But before he could reach the exit, Tony’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

“Rhodey, stop him! I need to talk to him.”

Colonel Rhodes looked up, startled. “Stop who?”

Rhodes didn’t know what Tony Stark was up to, but he wasn’t about to deny his friend’s request. Still, curiosity gnawed at him. Who was Tony so interested in stopping?

“That guy—Orion Voss,” Tony answered, his tone making it sound like everyone should know the name.

As Tony’s focus shifted, another figure was already moving. Agent Phil Coulson had intercepted Orion with the efficiency of someone used to managing chaos.

“Mr. Orion Voss,” Coulson greeted, his polite smile so practiced it might as well have been trademarked. “I’m Agent Coulson with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Could we have a word?”

Orion’s face soured. He recognized Coulson instantly. “Oh, great. You’re back,” Orion said flatly. “Let me guess—you and the lunatic lady still haven’t learned to take a hint?”

Coulson held up his hands in a calming gesture, his tone as smooth as his tie was straight. “That was a misunderstanding, Mr. Voss. We weren’t trying to hurt you.” He patted his chest and checked his pockets theatrically. “See? No weapons. Just conversation.”

Orion crossed his arms, unimpressed. “What do you want?”

Coulson leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “This isn’t the best place for a chat. We could step somewhere quieter, somewhere you’d feel more comfortable.” His tone was calm, but there was an undercurrent of persistence—Coulson wasn’t letting this opportunity slip away.

Orion opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by a smooth, self-assured voice that seemed to carry across the room without effort.

“Well, this looks intense.”

Orion turned to find Tony Stark strolling toward them, his signature swagger intact. His tailored suit practically screamed, I’m rich, and I know it.

Tony flashed a charming smile as he introduced himself. “Tony Stark. You’ve heard of me—I’ve definitely heard of you.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement with all the subtlety of a cannonball.

Orion raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Okay. And?”

Tony’s smile didn’t falter. “And I think we need to talk. Let’s step into my office—or, well, a quieter room I can pretend is my office.” He gestured toward the building with a casual wave, like he owned the place. (Which, knowing Tony, he probably did.)

Orion glanced at Coulson, then back at Tony. With a shrug, he followed. Whatever this was, it was bound to be entertaining. The room Tony led them to was small but tastefully decorated—just enough luxury to remind everyone of his wealth without being obnoxious. Tony immediately made himself comfortable, pouring a glass of water like he’d been planning this conversation for weeks.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Tony began, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve been buying up a lot of Stark Industries stock. About a billion dollars’ worth, if my math is right. And with my announcement today, that stock’s about to take a nosedive. So, tell me—how are you feeling about that?”