*9:19pm.—Bellingham Mansion*
Tony stumbled through the front gate of the Bellingham mansion just as the automatic lights flickered on. His body was bruised, shirt slightly torn at the collar, and his knuckles had faint traces of dried blood. Every step felt heavier than the last, and the taste of iron still lingered on his tongue.
He barely made it to the front door before collapsing against it with a thud.
[A true warrior, still standing]
Moments later, hurried footsteps echoed from inside. The door swung open, revealing Aaron, dressed in a loose hoodie and pajama pants, clearly startled. His eyes widened.
" Master Tony?! What the hell happened?!"
"Evening, roomie," Tony muttered with a weak grin before swaying. Aaron caught him just in time.
"You look like a deleted scene from The Godfather," Aaron said, hoisting him up with effort. "Come on, sir. Let's get you inside."
The living room lights came on, casting a warm glow over the polished hardwood floors. Aaron guided Tony slowly down the hallway toward his room. The estate felt too silent, too clean. Like it didn't belong to someone who had just brawled in the streets against corporate thugs.
Tony groaned as he sat on the bed, wincing when Aaron began inspecting the bruises.
"Was it Dent Again??"
Tony nodded slowly. "He sent four guys. Two with brass knuckles. One with a knife."
Aaron exhaled sharply. "Sir!. You could've been—"
"I know," Tony cut in, waving him off. "But I wasn't."
Aaron disappeared briefly, returning with a cold pack and a glass of water. "So this is it now? Inner Company wars, and street fights? Thought we were supposed to be sipping overpriced coffee in boardrooms."
{Overpriced Coffee indeed!!!!}
Tony smirked faintly. "Guess I'm more action-hero than executive or even a heir."
"You're more idiot than either."
(Hahahaha!!!!!)
Silence hung in the air for a few moments. Tony leaned back against the headboard, the ice pack resting against his ribs. Aaron pulled the desk chair closer and sat, resting his arms on his knees.
"You know he's cornered, right? Dent doesn't send goons unless he's panicking. He did it once, and now again!!!"
Tony looked at him, eyes tired but sharp. "Exactly. He knows I'm not just playing house with the Bellingham name anymore."
"Still... this doesn't feel like strategy. It feels like desperation."
Tony nodded. "And desperation makes people stupid. Or dangerous."
Aaron sighed. "We need to strike before he gathers more power. Alina already hinted that Dent's trying to sway board members. Mia is trying to disconnect dent's relationships with her dad.
[Mr. Akira Suzumia].
There's something else, too—a leak in the video we checked. Somehow Encrypted. Old-school hard lock. Could be a blackmail file or leverage. It's like, they couldn't remove it, so they encoded it so it couldn't be watched."
"Get it decrypted if possible," Tony murmured. "I'll bet my name it's related."
Aaron leaned back in the chair. "You okay, though? Like... actually okay, sir?"
Tony took a long breath, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know, man. My body's a wreck. My brain feels like it's boiling over. And I'm not even sure how much of this life is still mine."
Aaron didn't respond immediately. Then, softly: "You're doing more than surviving it, Tony. You're bending it in your direction."
Tony looked at him with tired amusement. "Did you just drop wisdom at midnight? Who are you and what have you done with Aaron?"
"Don't push your luck, Bruce Wayne."
They both chuckled. A fragile but honest moment.
Aaron stood, stretching. "Alright, master tony. I'll get back to that encryption project. You rest. You need it."
"Thanks, Aaron."
As the door clicked softly behind him, silence wrapped itself around Tony. The kind of silence that doesn't comfort—but reminds.
He leaned back against the pillows, staring up again. Every bruise on his body throbbed in time with the thoughts in his head.
Dent was slipping, sure—but a cornered beast was still a beast. And this one had claws hidden in handshakes.
His mind wandered to Clara—how she'd teased him earlier with that signature stunt, her knowing smile making it impossible to hide anymore. She knew. She always did.
(And she did the stunt, TWICE!!!!)
And yet… she hadn't told anyone.
Why?
Trust? Amusement? Some long game?
Then there was Mia, the tension between them a puzzle of its own. Her own personal secrets, her silences. Her love . And the Ghosts—was he pulling them into a war too big?
Tony reached for his phone, flipping it between his fingers.
The wallpaper was still the default. No family photo. No reminder of a past life.
Just blank.
He whispered, to no one in particular:
"What the hell am I becoming?"
Outside the window, Tokyo's skyline blinked like static stars—bright, distant, and watching.
He closed his eyes.
And for a moment...
He just breathed.