Skye sighed helplessly and glanced at Lucas. "Aren't we already lying around counting money? You're basically a landlord — the rent you collect every month is no small sum."
"That's just pocket change," Lucas said, stretching lazily across the sofa. "This time, we're talking real money — the kind that piles up while you sleep. Who ever complained about having too much cash? It's not like money bites."
Skye rolled her eyes. Lately, Stark Industries' stock had been in a nosedive. But now that Tony Stark was rescued, it had to rebound — right?
Sure enough, as soon as the news of Tony Stark's safe return spread, Stark Industries' stock skyrocketed like a rocket launch. Tony hadn't even gotten off the plane yet, and the charts had already flipped from red to green.
Lucas knew what was coming next. Once Tony landed, he'd hold a press conference — and that would be the trigger for another crash. That meant he and Skye had only a few hours to act.
Skye kept glancing between the TV news and the stock ticker. Finally, she called out to the "corpse" on the couch.
"Boss! The stock's climbing again — should we sell now?"
Lucas sat bolt upright like a zombie rising from the grave.
"Not yet. Keep your eyes glued to the news. The moment they announce Tony's press conference, dump everything."
So the two of them sat side by side, refreshing news sites, waiting for that fateful headline.
Three or four hours later, the announcement hit every major outlet simultaneously — Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, had landed safely in New York.
"Now, Skye!" Lucas barked. "Sell it all!"
Without a hint of hesitation, Skye's fingers flew across the keyboard, offloading every last share of Stark Industries stock they owned.
"Now we wait," Lucas said, leaning back with a grin. "Once Tony opens his mouth at that press conference, the market's going to tank."
"You're that sure?" Skye asked.
"Of course. Tony's not the same playboy he used to be."
They watched live as Tony appeared on screen, sitting on the stairs with a hamburger in hand. Despite his casual pose, his expression was deadly serious.
"So I've decided," Tony said, his voice steady. "To permanently shut down Stark Industries' weapons division."
Boom!
The press room erupted. Cameras surged forward like a tidal wave. The world's most famous weapons manufacturer announcing a permanent end to weapons production — that wasn't just news; that was history.
Within minutes, Stark Industries' stock price went into freefall. In just ten minutes, it hit the daily limit-down.
"Boss, it's… it's in freefall!" Skye gawked at the red-filled charts. Even with no experience in trading, the sight made her heart race.
Lucas nodded calmly. "It's not done yet. It'll probably keep dropping. We'll wait — watch it for a few days. If it stabilizes, that's when we buy. All in."
Even Lucas hadn't expected the crash to be that severe. He'd seen the movie in his past life, and the film had glossed over the aftermath — but in reality, this was financial devastation.
Sure enough, over the next several days, Stark Industries' stock kept plunging. Even old man Obadiah tried to stabilize things, but it was useless. Investors weren't fools — Stark Industries was Tony Stark. Obadiah was just a salesman; the core technology and the name value were all Tony.
A few days later, with the stock price finally holding steady for three days straight, Skye moved in. She started buying like a madwoman, just as Lucas had instructed — pouring every cent they had into Stark Industries stock.
Then, one quiet afternoon, an unexpected visitor appeared at the door of the Devil May Cry Agency.
"Devil May Cry… what a ridiculous name," a cocky voice said. "Guess that brat's not much for culture."
A silver Audi R8 purred to a stop outside. From it stepped a man in a tailored suit and blue-tinted sunglasses — none other than Tony Stark himself.
"So this is the kid's place?" Tony asked, glancing at Pepper Potts beside him.
"Yes, Tony," Pepper said, exasperated. "And it's called Devil May Cry, not 'Evil May Five' or whatever nonsense you said before."
"Whatever. I'm just here to see if that kid's still alive," Tony said with his trademark smirk, striding up to the door first.
Ding-ling!
The bell above the door chimed as he entered. Skye immediately looked up from her monitor.
"Welcome to Devil May Cry," she began professionally. "How can I—"
Her words froze when she recognized the arrogant face staring back at her.
"So, not only is that kid uncultured," Tony said, glancing around the room, "but his taste in interior design is tragic. What is this? A Renaissance thrift store?"
His gaze swept over the vintage decor — dark wood, old paintings, antique furniture — before landing on Skye.
"Well, well," Tony grinned. "At least the kid's got some taste. A pretty assistant like you — how'd you like to come work for Stark Industries instead?"
Skye blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
"Tony Stark?" she asked, looking between him and the image of his face still frozen on her news feed — comparing them just to be sure.
"That's right — the one and only," Tony said proudly, dropping himself onto the sofa and testing its firmness. He nodded in approval. "Not bad. About a tenth as comfortable as mine."
At that moment, Pepper walked in behind him, shaking her head.
"Skye, don't mind him," she said with a tired smile. "He doesn't know when to stop talking."
"Hey!" Tony protested. "I'm being serious! If this lovely young lady wants to join Stark Industries, she can name her salary."
Pepper blinked in surprise. She'd worked with Tony long enough to know when he was bluffing — and this time, he wasn't.
Tony Stark actually meant it. He really wanted to hire Skye.
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