Lies Don't Hurt, the Truth Is the Sharpest Knife
New York — a private yacht harbor.
The car carrying Xu Mo and Tony Stark rolled to a stop.
Waiting by the yacht stood a striking short-haired woman. Xu Mo's expression shifted at once. It was none other than Natasha Romanoff—the Black Widow.
Catching Xu Mo's glance at her, Tony puffed his chest and said proudly,
"This is my new assistant. What do you think? But—take it from someone who's been there, don't try anything funny!"
His expression darkened slightly, as if recalling an unpleasant memory.
"Assistant?" Xu Mo smirked. So, the events of Iron Man 2 were already in motion.
Natasha's eyes gleamed the moment she saw him step out of the car. For over a year Xu Mo had seemingly vanished without a trace. When she caught wind of Stark Industries' new security assignment, she took it on herself—partly to investigate Tony, but mainly to see if she could track Xu Mo down. And now, here he was.
Tony led Xu Mo and his companion toward the luxury yacht. As they passed, he introduced the two.
Xu Mo, of course, already understood. Nick Fury had laid the groundwork for the Avengers Initiative. Natasha's undercover assignment at Stark Industries wasn't malicious—just an evaluation of whether Tony had potential as a candidate.
Xu Mo had no intention of exposing her cover.
As they exchanged a handshake and let go, Natasha surprised him by asking,
"Would I have the honor of dinner with you tonight?"
Before Xu Mo could respond, Tony sputtered.
"What? Why? Ms. Natasha—I've asked you out three times and you've refused every time. But you take the initiative to ask him?!"
For the first time in ages, Tony Stark felt his ego wobble. He had never failed with models, actresses, or anyone else—yet his new assistant had rejected him flat. And now, she was inviting Xu Mo.
"What does he have that I don't?" Tony demanded. "I was building circuit boards at four, engines at six, and I had two PhDs by seventeen—"
His rant was cut short when Natasha arched a brow.
"Do I really have to say it?" she replied coolly.
Tony froze, lips snapping shut. He dropped his hands in defeat.
"Fine. Have fun with your dinner. But right now, we don't have time!"
Grabbing Xu Mo by the arm, he practically dragged him aboard the yacht.
Xu Mo nearly laughed at Tony's devastated look.
Even after the yacht pulled from the harbor, Tony still muttered, face tight with frustration.
"I think there's something wrong with her taste."
He refused to admit it, but deep down he knew Xu Mo outclassed him in looks. Not that he'd ever say it out loud.
"Is that so?" Xu Mo sipped champagne with a teasing grin. "Ever heard this saying?"
"What?" Tony asked, swallowing a mouthful of his drink.
"Lies don't hurt. The truth is the sharpest knife."
Tony: …
---
By the time the yacht reached open waters, Tony's spirits had lifted. A deck filled with bikini-clad models helped with that.
He and Xu Mo lounged on the top deck, surrounded by laughter and playful chatter. The young women stole glances at them, angling their poses just so. Neither man was blind to it. Both were wealthy, powerful men—just being noticed by either could change a model's career, or even her life.
Xu Mo and Tony clinked glasses.
"Next month I'm heading to Monaco for the Grand Prix," Tony said casually. "Want to come?"
"Not interested," Xu Mo replied, shaking his head. But inwardly, he knew this was the race—the one where Ivan Vanko would attack.
Though he knew Tony would survive, he still offered a warning as a friend.
"Racing can be dangerous. Better bring the armor, just in case."
Tony blinked at him. "Are you kidding? Aside from the rules, do you think I can't handle a race car?"
He bristled, feeling his skills questioned.
"I pilot an Iron Man suit that's more complicated than ten race cars combined. Don't insult me."
Xu Mo only shook his head. "If you say so. Let's drop it."
Tony sat back down, grumbling. Xu Mo tilted his glass.
"If I recall, your will lists Pepper as your beneficiary, doesn't it?"
Tony stiffened, instantly wary. "Why are you bringing that up?"
"Nothing. I just think, if something happened to you, Pepper would be thrilled—spending your fortune while you…"
"Stop!" Tony cut him off, throwing up his hands. "Okay, okay. You win. You really know how to get under someone's skin."
Xu Mo smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Sure," Tony sighed.
The yacht drifted across the high seas the whole morning. It was scheduled to stay out until evening. Aside from the crew, the only people aboard were Tony, Xu Mo, and the dozen models. Not a single other man—something Tony had clearly arranged.
By afternoon, the deck was empty of guests. According to tradition, they would return to port that evening.
And in the meantime?
Well—seafood and simple, unpretentious pleasures of the rich.
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