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"Katharine."
Tony Stark rarely used such a solemn tone. With a single glance exchanged, the old lady instantly understood.
Smooth as ever, Katharine Hepburn rose to her feet and said casually,
"Oh dear, I've rested long enough. I should go talk to those old friends outside.
You young people continue."
And with that, she left the lounge.
Henry had no intention of following.
He watched Tony making those subtle eye-signals and, after the door shut, asked with amusement:
"So you don't trust her? Clearing the room just for this?
Should I leave too?"
Tony shook his head.
"If we're planning to rob a bank and don't want to drag certain people down with us, then not telling them is the right thing to do.
This has nothing to do with trust.
Even if they heard it, they'd rather pretend they didn't."
"So you want me to help you rob a bank?
You're Tony Stark—your target should be at least the Federal Reserve, right?
Fine, I'm in. Fifty–fifty split seems fair."
"No.
The target's probably worse."
Tony reached into his tailored suit and pulled out a pen-shaped device.
It was thicker than a fountain pen.
With a click on the "cap," it released a burst of high-frequency noise—
too high for normal human ears.
But Henry was no normal human.
The sudden shriek almost made him lose composure.
Still, he pretended not to notice and asked:
"What's that?"
"A gadget that blocks recordings and eavesdropping." Tony replied.
Henry raised a brow.
"You're carrying gear like a professional spy now."
"Pulled it out of the old man's storage room.
It's a twenty-year-old prototype.
Haven't had time to improve it yet."
Seeing Henry intentionally steering the conversation aside, Tony finally snapped:
"Enough.
This antique drains power like crazy.
We don't have much time.
"Long story short—
Do you remember that gunfight on the villa estate we were caught in?
"I intend to investigate the people behind those shooters.
"I'm handling the East Coast personally.
But on the West Coast, I need someone else.
That's why I kept Stark Pictures—
Hollywood is the closest place to their sphere."
He continued:
"This isn't something Katharine should hear.
Not because she can't handle it, but because this is the kind of business nobody outside the problem should know.
Even you—
I'll only say more if you agree to be involved."
Henry smiled lazily.
"Since you already know this is trouble, why would I jump in?
Don't bother telling me."
Tony leaned forward.
"What if I told you… I can wipe out your FBI problem?
Is that enough to buy your help?"
Henry blinked.
"My FBI problem?
Funny, I didn't know I had one."
"I wasn't interested in the reason.
I was only interested in the fact that you're on several lists.
Not just the FBI's.
But for you, their list is the most dangerous one."
Henry sighed helplessly.
Yep.
That definitely sounded like a Stark.
"So forget my issue for now.
Let me ask—you're still digging into something from years ago?
Is it worth that level of persistence?"
Tony hesitated, then said:
"Do you remember the official cause of death for my father and mother?"
"Car accident.
Why? Something wrong with that?"
He nodded.
"Publicly, they said the braking system had a flaw.
That caused a loss of control and crash—driver and passenger both dead."
"So you sued the manufacturer and bankrupted them?"
"No.
I bought them."
That took Henry by surprise.
Tony continued:
"I told them that if they didn't sell to me, the compensation lawsuit I'd file would bankrupt them worse.
"In the end, I bought the whole company at half price, fixed the braking defect,
and resold it at nearly triple its value.
Part of my inheritance tax came from that deal."
Henry clapped slowly.
"Bravo.
Very impressive.
Is this where I'm supposed to praise you?"
"Shut up!
That's not the point."
He took a deep breath and went on:
"My old man flew aircraft.
He raced cars.
That day, he was driving a vehicle with a brake defect—
but with his skill, it shouldn't have resulted in a fatal crash."
Henry played along.
"So you suspect…"
Tony said gravely:
"I never thought much of it before.
But ever since becoming CEO of Stark Industries,
things happening around me forced me to reevaluate everything.
Including the crash that killed my parents."
"Any evidence?"
Tony shook his head.
"No.
Autopsy reports, accident analysis—everything was clean.
But fixing that brake defect… made me question something."
"What?"
"I never personally confirmed the bodies from the autopsy.
I only saw the reports.
Only confirmed 'identity.'
Not the bodies themselves."
Meaning—someone could have tampered.
Henry couldn't reveal what he actually knew from another timeline,
but he asked:
"Did you check road surveillance archives?
Any idea who could've done it?"
"Crash site had no surveillance.
At least that's what every agency I hired claimed.
"As for suspects—
let's just say one percent of the nation had motive."
Henry pointed upward.
"That one percent?"
"The one that controls ninety-nine percent of the country's wealth."
Tony nodded.
"They had motive.
Whether they acted—or whether I can ever prove anything—
is another matter."
Henry gave a mocking grin.
"Seems you've been living an exciting life.
Hiring a whole security team and everything."
"Happy Hogan—Brooklyn, former boxer, no notable record.
Saved my life during a test-drive crash.
Now he runs my security.
His people are all handpicked."
"You trust guys like that?" Henry asked.
"Right now, men like him are more trustworthy than anyone with a spotless résumé."
"So that's why you're coming to someone like me—'background questionable' and all?"
"At least you've proven you aren't easy to buy.
Anyone who can turn down me and the Mellon family—
I doubt you'll be easily bought by anyone else.
"And out of all my bargaining chips—
Stark Pictures is the one I'm sure appeals to you most."
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