Hell's Kitchen Safe House
A month had passed since Tony Stark's disappearance. The city and the world were in a maelstrom of speculation. Rumors of his death and corporate espionage dominated the news. The short he had placed on Stark Industries stock the day of the ambush was the most audacious financial gamble he had ever made. He had leveraged all of his wealth—a staggering amount—to place a short position that would be worth billions if the stock crashed.
And it did. The moment the news of Tony's disappearance became public, the stock plummeted, bleeding value with every passing minute.
[Financial Acumen (Passive): Your ability to analyze market trends and predict outcomes is at its peak. Profit from a short position on Stark Industries stock. +$50 billion.]
[Net Worth: $50.5 billion]
Arthur stared at the screen. The number—a number with nine zeros—felt like a physical blow. He choked on his drink, a violent cough rattling his chest.
"What? No. No, that can't be real."
He looked back at the screen, his hands trembling slightly. The numbers were still there.
A wild, breathless laugh escaped his lips, a disbelieving smile on his face.
"Oh my god..." he whispered. "I'm a goddamn multi-billionaire."
He sat down at his desk, his hands flying across the keyboard. He then pulled up a second screen, his eyes scanning a series of untraceable hedge funds that he had created under shell companies. The returns on his short position were a staggering 99%. A return that, in the real world, would be considered insane.
A satisfied smile spread across his face. He could now put his plans in motion. He created a new investment firm, with a persona for a trader named Jack Davis.
This new entity would start aggressively buying public shares of Stark Industries for $10 million each day. He calculated that this would amount to a total of $1 billion in shares over the month, giving him control of 10% of the company.
Arthur let out a low, gleeful chuckle.
"Stark Industries, say hello to Mr. Jack Davis," he whispered to himself. "This will definitely drive Stane crazy."
With his Stark Industries plan in motion, Arthur's attention shifted. He knew that controlling the narrative would be just as important as controlling the company. He leaned back in his chair, a quiet sense of satisfaction settling over him.
"This is just the beginning," he whispered, a wry smile on his face. "I'll need a quiet team—one that's loyal and discreet, and which I can pay without a paper trail or a digital footprint."
He then pulled up a third screen, his eyes scanning the global media landscape. "I'll need to acquire a major media outlet. Vanity Fair and Global News Network (GNN) are the best options. The acquisitions would cost an estimated $21.5 billion, but I have the money."
It still leaves me with $19 billion.
Arthur then, with a quiet sense knew that his vast wealth and power came with a opportunity to influence a world that was unaware of the coming conflicts.
He decided that he would create a foundation that would have a dual purpose: a public face of providing legal and financial aid to individuals who had been wronged by powerful organizations, and a secret purpose of asset protection and providing a safe haven for key individuals who would be caught in the crossfire of the MCU's major events.
"Well I can start laying the groundwork with this, and its not as if I can't make more money , I will just dump all my shares during Tony's press conference and this time push a billion to short the stock." He giggled "And I bet even Stane's beard will evaporate then" He enjoyed a moment of euphoric feeling imagining that face.
He leaned back in his chair, a quiet sense of satisfaction settling over him. He could see it all now. He then, with a new sense of purpose, began typing, a series of commands flashing across his screen. The words blurred into a document titled
"The Aegis Initiative"
________________________________
Greenwich Village, New York
The real estate office was a testament to old money. Ms. Albright, the real estate agent, was an elegant woman in her sixties, with a confident smile that bespoke years of experience. Arthur sat across from her, a briefcase on his lap. He was dressed in a simple but well-tailored suit, a man of quiet authority.
"The Greenwich Village brownstone is a masterpiece, Mr. Steele," Ms. Albright said, her voice a calm, professional murmur. "It's a landmark building, with a rich history that, in this city, is a priceless commodity. As you know, we're in a neighborhood known for its secretive, wealthy residents." She gestured to the folder on her desk. "The specifications you provided from Mr. Davis were quite precise. We've ensured the security system, with its biometric scanners and private security firm link, is exactly as he requested."
Arthur gave a subtle, professional smile. "My client is a man who values privacy above all else, Ms. Albright. We will take it."
Ms. Albright's confident smile faltered for a moment, her eyes betraying a hint of surprise before quickly recovering. "A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Steele. I'm sure your client will be very happy."
The next day, Arthur was at a high-end car dealership, where he was met by a young, energetic salesman named Frank. The car, a sleek, black Bentley Continental GT, was parked at the center of the showroom, gleaming under the lights.
"A beautiful machine, Mr. Steele," Frank said, his voice filled with a salesman's enthusiasm. "The specs you provided for your client were very specific. This isn't just a car; it's a custom-built model with a zero to sixty in under four seconds. It's a perfect reflection of a man who values performance and discretion."
Arthur just nodded, his gaze fixed on the car. "Send it to this address," he said, handing him a card with the address of his new brownstone on it.
Frank's smile widened. "Consider it done, Mr. Steele. A pleasure doing business with you. Your client has great taste."
Arthur stood on the sidewalk, a quiet sense of satisfaction settling over him. He was a multi-billionaire, a phantom in the world's economy. He had a new home, a new car, and a new life. The first step in his plan to build a better world had been taken.
__________________________________
Stark Industries Corporate Headquarters
The boardroom was filled with a tense, oppressive silence. Obadiah Stane, looking haggard and stressed, sat at the head of the table. His expression, usually one of jovial confidence, was now a mask of frustrated fury. He slammed a hand down on the table.
"I have no idea what's happening!" Stane bellowed, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "The stock is in a freefall. We've hemorrhaged billions. And a significant amount of our public shares are being bought up by some unknown, third-party entity. Who is this guy? And why isn't our legal team doing anything about this?!"
Arthur, who had been sitting quietly at the back of the room, calmly raised a hand. "Mr. Stane, if I may," he said, his voice calm and authoritative.
Stane turned to him, his eyes narrowed into slits. "And what is a lawyer doing in a board meeting? Mr. Steele, not that you are much of a lawyer either, you cost me some serious money on The Jericho Contract."He sneered.
"With all due respect, Mr Stane," Arthur replied, his voice calm and professional. "This isn't a normal market event. The falling stock price, the public panic, the mysterious buyer—this is a legal issue as much as it is a financial one. As Mr. Stark's personal counsel, and his legal Proxy on the Board in his unfortunate absence,I'm here to ensure the company's actions are in compliance with corporate law and to advise on the situation."
The explanation silenced Stane, but his frustration was palpable. "The Jericho contract was amended for legal protection," Arthur continued. "As for the market, I've been monitoring the public shares. The buyer is untraceable. They're not a competitor, and they're not a government entity. He's just a private investor who seems to believe in the long-term value of Stark Industries."
Stane scoffed. "An investor? Mr. Steele, he's a vulture! He's buying up our company for pennies on the dollar!"
"A vulture, Mr. Stane?" Arthur asked, his voice still calm, a hint of steel in his tone. "I'd argue they're an opportunist. They're taking advantage of the company's current valuation, a classic business move that would pay off handsomely if the company were to rebound."
The words hung in the air, a subtle, almost imperceptible threat. Stane stared at him, his face a mask of cold fury. He didn't know who this "investor" was, but he knew they were his enemy. And he knew that Arthur Steele was on their side.
"Get out," Stane said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You're just Tony's lawyer. This is meeting is adjourned."
Arthur just smiled. "I'll take my leave, Mr. Stane. But I'll be in my office if you need legal counsel." Arthur stood and walked out of the room.
_______________________________
Obadiah Stane stood in his office, the spacious room a reflection of his personality—classic mahogany furniture, rich leather, but with screens flashing endless stock data, a cold, modern edge to the old money. In his hand, a half-empty glass of scotch. On his desk, a framed photo: a younger, smiling Tony Stark, standing with him at an old awards ceremony. Stane looked at it, a brief, fleeting pang of something akin to grief crossing his face. He remembered the boy, the genius, the heir he had promised to protect.
"You left me with no choice, Tony," he whispered to the glass, the words a low, dangerous rumble. "You became reckless. You couldn't be trusted with this company. You couldn't be trusted with... this legacy." He took a long, slow drink, the whiskey doing little to dull the ache of a lost friend, but doing much to fuel the fire of his ambition.
He then looked at his computer, the stock market data a frustrating mix of red and green. The price had stabilized, but it was still disastrously low. The board was pressuring him to do something, but he was holding back. He needed the company to recover to continue his plans. The market was a beast he couldn't tame.
His phone buzzed. It was a private line. He answered it, his voice a low, tense growl. "Yes."
"Obadiah," a voice on the other end, a corrupt board member, said. "The pressure is mounting. We're hemorrhaging money. The shareholders are in a panic. You need to do something."
"I am doing something," Stane snarled. "I'm running this company. What do you expect me to do? Announce a new direction? That's what Tony did, and look where it got him."
"And then there's him," the board member said, his voice laced with frustration. "This Jack Davis. Who is he? The man is buying up shares in a company that's hemorrhaging money. The scale of his buying is unprecedented. Who in their right mind would do that?"
Stane slammed his hand down on his desk, his face a mask of cold fury. "I don't know who he is, and I don't care," he growled. "He's trying to take advantage of this situation. I'll find him. I'll find him and I'll deal with him. He's a problem that needs to be solved."
He took a long, slow breath, trying to calm himself down. He was a master of the corporate world. He would find a way to deal with this.
__________________________________
A/N. Let's..go....!!, Wish I had this much money in real life... that would be sick!!
And a shoutout to my man Jack, he was the first to review this fic. Tell me how you like it , a head of a shadow empire controlling the world.
I am gonna mess with sooo...many people using him. You will love it!!