Marvel: Familia System

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Nero sat at the polished round table in Stark Industries, his posture relaxed as if he were merely observing a casual discussion rather than a tense shareholder meeting. Warren sat a few seats away, and although they both acted as if they didn't know each other. Around the table, other familiar faces sat, most notably Obadiah Stane, whose presence filled the room with a heavy, almost oppressive tension. This meeting was Obadiah's last-ditch effort to rein in Tony Stark, to convince him that ceasing weapons production was not just insane but a financial disaster waiting to happen.

Tony was late, as usual, leaving the room to fill with idle chatter and the faint clinking of glasses as shareholders mingled, forming alliances or sharpening their knives, depending on how they viewed the upcoming discussion. Nero, however, remained silent, his eyes calmly scanning the room. The days of hiding in the shadows were far behind him. Gone were the times when he had to worry about someone like Kingpin noticing him. If he wanted, he could erase Kingpin from existence with a mere thought. But power wasn't about acting impulsively. He'd learned that patience was a weapon in itself, and he wasn't about to cause a power vacuum that would draw more innocent lives into the chaos. Kingpin would live a little longer, not out of mercy, but because his existence still served a purpose.

Warren caught Nero's eye for a brief moment before turning away, a small, nearly imperceptible nod exchanged between them. They played their roles well, strangers in a crowded room, both fully aware of the game they were part of. Warren knew Nero's strength, though he had only seen glimpses of it. The true extent of what Nero could do was something he kept closely guarded, even from his allies.

The conversation around them shifted as the doors opened, and Tony Stark finally strolled in, a smug grin on his face as if he were completely unaware of the storm brewing in the room. Or perhaps he simply didn't care. He was Tony Stark, after all—charming, brilliant, and reckless, a combination that made him both admired and hated by those around him.

Tony didn't apologize for his tardiness. Instead, he dropped into his chair, his attention focused on Obadiah, whose expression remained stern and unyielding. The room fell silent as everyone took their seats, all eyes now on the two most powerful men in Stark Industries.

Obadiah leaned forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Tony, we need to talk about your recent decisions. Ceasing weapons production—it's a mistake. A catastrophic mistake. The board needs to hear you out."

Tony looked unimpressed, almost bored, as he responded. "Obie, I've already made my decision. We're done making weapons. It's over."

Obadiah's jaw tightened, but he kept his composure. "This isn't just about you, Tony. This is about the company. About the shareholders, the employees—people whose livelihoods depend on Stark Industries continuing to do what it does best."

Nero leaned back in his chair, observing the exchange with a faint smile. The power struggle between Tony and Obadiah was a fascinating dance, one that Nero had been anticipating for some time. Tony was a wild card, unpredictable and driven by emotions that most people couldn't grasp. But Obadiah—he was a known quantity, a man whose motivations were transparent, if only to those who knew how to read them.

The tension in the room was thick as Obadiah continued, his voice growing more forceful. "You think you're doing the right thing, but you're leading this company into ruin. The board won't stand for it, Tony. They'll push back, and when they do, you'll be left with nothing."

Tony leaned back, crossing his arms as he met Obadiah's gaze head-on. "I'm not here to make everyone happy, Obie. I'm here to make a difference. And if that means burning this company to the ground and rebuilding it from the ashes, so be it."

A murmur ran through the room, Nero's eyes narrowing slightly. Tony's words were bold, but they weren't just empty bravado. There was a conviction behind them, one that Nero recognized. Tony wasn't just challenging the status quo—he was declaring war on it.

Obadiah opened his mouth to retort, but Tony cut him off, his tone sharp. "I'm done justifying myself. This is the new direction of Stark Industries, and if you can't get on board, maybe it's time for you to find another seat."

The room went dead quiet. Everyone could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on those present. This wasn't just a disagreement—it was a battle for the soul of Stark Industries.

Obadiah sat back, his expression dark and unreadable. "You're making a mistake, Tony," he said quietly, but the threat was clear. This was far from over.

Tony didn't respond, instead turning his attention to the rest of the board, his voice taking on a more measured tone. "Stark Industries will adapt. We'll innovate, find new markets, and push the boundaries of what's possible. But we will not be defined by the mistakes of the past. We will not be weapons manufacturers. Not anymore."

Nero couldn't help but admire Tony's audacity. The man was reckless, yes, but there was a vision behind his actions that went beyond profit and loss. It was a vision that resonated with Nero, even if their methods differed.

Obadiah, sensing the tides turning against him, decided to call for a vote. "Raise your hands if you support my position," he declared, lifting his hand confidently. A few hands followed his, though not as many as he hoped. His gaze shifted to those who remained silent, their discomfort evident under his intense scrutiny.

One of the shareholders spoke up, clearly uneasy. "We prefer to remain neutral."

Obadiah's lips tightened as he turned back to Tony. "The board vote stands—three against one. You're outnumbered, Tony."

Tony was about to brush him off, his typical nonchalance barely masking his growing irritation, when Nero's quiet chuckle cut through the tension. "Why do you assume you speak for all of us?"

Obadiah's eyes narrowed as he turned toward Nero, his expression one of thinly veiled hostility. "And who are you?"

Nero didn't bother with a direct answer, instead turning his attention to Tony, who was now studying him with a blend of curiosity and recognition. "It's you," Tony muttered, his frown deepening. Nero merely smiled, a casual, knowing grin that did little to hide his amusement.

A while before Tony's disappearance in Afghanistan, he'd crossed paths with Nero at an exclusive nightclub. The encounter had been memorable, though not in the way Tony had hoped. With his usual charm, Tony had tried to impress Maria and Sofia, only to be met with relentless rejections. Nero, with a drink in hand, had watched the spectacle unfold with a mocking smile that had irked Tony more than he cared to admit. That same smile now played on Nero's lips as Tony stared at him across the boardroom table, recognition flickering in his eyes.

Obadiah, sensing the shift in the room, signaled to his assistant, who swiftly handed him a binder. Flipping through the pages, Obadiah's eyes landed on a name that made his jaw tighten—Nero Principe, listed as an 8% shareholder. The fact that Nero had been invited by Obadiah's own assistant, following orders to call significant shareholders, only added to the sting. Obadiah's eyes narrowed as he regarded Nero.

"Are you in favor of Tony's idea?" Obadiah asked, his tone sharp, bordering on accusatory.

Nero didn't rush to answer. Instead, he casually dusted off his jacket as if ridding himself of some imaginary dirt, his expression one of mild amusement. "Sure," Nero finally said, his voice calm yet cutting through the tension like a knife. "Mr. Stark's venturing into clean energy, and I'm curious about what he can achieve. Weapons bring in profits, no doubt, but they also leave a mess. It feels... dirty."

The subtle disdain in Nero's tone wasn't lost on anyone, least of all Obadiah. Nero wasn't just siding with Tony—he was making it clear that he found the idea of continuing with weapons production distasteful. He didn't need to elaborate; his gesture and choice of words spoke volumes, dismissing the notion of blood money as beneath him.

Tony's frown eased slightly as he observed Nero, the tension in the room shifting. While Tony was still puzzled by Nero's presence, he appreciated the unexpected support. "Looks like we're not as outnumbered as you thought, Obie," Tony remarked, his tone almost playful, though the underlying tension remained.

Obadiah's lips thinned, his gaze shifting around the room as he calculated his next move. What had started as his confident power play was unraveling faster than he anticipated. He could feel the board's resolve faltering, their previous confidence in him eroding under Nero's support in Tony.

"We still outnumber you, Tony," Obadiah said, voice taut with frustration. "You and Mr. Principe are just two votes."

Tony's expression didn't change. With a calm, almost bored look, he replied, "I still hold the majority of the company's shares, Obie. Doesn't matter how many of you disagree. If anyone's not on board, they can sell their shares to me right now." He casually pulled out his checkbook, flipping it open without hesitation.

The room went silent, all eyes on Tony as he made his offer. Nero caught the slight smirk Warren tried to hide, and with a faint chuckle, Warren spoke up. "Actually, Tony, you're not outnumbered. I'm with you on this one."

Obadiah's eyes narrowed, now wary. Warren was not an unknown like Nero—he was a powerful figure, wealthy and influential, and his recent rise as a hero with Neogenes added to his weight in the room. Warren's support tipped the scales, and Obadiah knew it.

Nero watched the room with quiet amusement, enjoying how quickly the tide turned. Obadiah was grasping at control that was slipping through his fingers, while Tony and Warren, despite their contrasting personalities, now stood united. The shareholders who had once backed Obadiah were shifting in their seats, clearly rethinking their positions.

"Seems like you miscalculated," Nero said lightly, his tone casual but with a subtle edge that made Obadiah flinch. He didn't need to say more—his presence alone was enough to unsettle the man.

Tony leaned back, a satisfied grin creeping onto his face as he closed his checkbook with a snap. "So, who's next?" His voice carried a teasing lilt, but there was no mistaking the seriousness of the challenge.

Obadiah's face tightened, but he kept silent. Warren's gaze locked with Nero's again, and they both understood the game was nearing its end.

Nero rose from his chair with an air of casual indifference, adjusting his jacket as if the entire meeting had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Looks like the board's made up its mind," he said smoothly. Without waiting for a response, he began to walk towards the door, pausing briefly to glance back over his shoulder. "What a waste of time. Next time, try not to bother me with something so trivial."

Obadiah's fist tightened, his knuckles turning white, but he remained silent, his frustration palpable. Tony, on the other hand, couldn't suppress a smirk. "He always knows how to get under people's skin," Tony muttered under his breath, loud enough for only those closest to him to hear. Obadiah caught the comment, his eyes narrowing as he watched Nero leave, misinterpreting the connection between them. He assumed Nero was Tony's ally, his narrowed eyes boring into Nero's retreating back.

Nero didn't care. He walked out of the boardroom without a backward glance, leaving the power struggles and corporate games behind. He found Maria waiting in the lobby, scrolling through her phone with a serene expression. Without missing a beat, Nero slipped into the seat beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist in a familiar, affectionate gesture. He let out a small sigh, laying his head on her shoulder.

"How was it?" Maria asked, her voice warm and inviting, as if she already knew the answer.

Nero closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the brief respite from the tediousness of the meeting. "Boring," he replied simply, his tone carrying a hint of playful exasperation.

Maria smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Want me to get you some ice cream to make up for it?"

Nero's face lit up instantly, the weariness evaporating. "Yes, please, mommy," he said with a grin, the teasing lilt in his voice unmistakable.

Maria chuckled softly, clearly amused by his playful response. "Alright, anything for my big baby," she teased back, ruffling his hair affectionately.

Leaving the skyscraper hand in hand, Nero and Maria stepped out into the bustling streets of New York. The city buzzed around them, yet it felt distant, the two of them wrapped in their own world.

Nero squeezed Maria's hand gently, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "You know, if you really want to make up for that dreadful meeting, ice cream is just the start."

Maria rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "Oh? And what else would you suggest, Mr. Principe?"

He tilted his head, pretending to ponder. "Maybe a stroll through Central Park, followed by a not-so-accidental detour to that bookstore you love...and dinner at that little Mexican place you keep talking about."

Maria chuckled, clearly enjoying his playfulness. "You've got the whole evening planned out, haven't you?"

Nero shrugged, a hint of mock innocence in his tone. "What can I say? I'm a man of many talents."

They continued walking, the chaos of the city blending into the background as they bantered back and forth. At one point, Nero paused in front of a small flower stand, pulling Maria closer as he gestured grandly to the display. "Pick one," he said, his tone playful yet sincere.

Maria eyed him skeptically, but couldn't suppress her smile. She scanned the flowers, eventually settling on a simple yet elegant white lily. "This one."

Nero plucked the flower from the stand, handing it to her with a flourish. "A fine choice, my lady."

Maria laughed softly, tucking the lily behind her ear. "Oh, my big baby got a flower for mommy," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Nero grinned, his voice light as he countered, "Just trying to stay in your good graces. You know, for all those times I will make you suffer in the lobbies while I go through boring meetings."

Maria playfully bumped her shoulder against his. "Hmm, you're lucky you're cute."

Nero chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist as they continued walking down the street. "Cute, huh? I'll take that as a win."

After a few blocks, Nero glanced over at Maria, his tone turning mischievous. "So, where's this ice cream you promised? Or was that just a trick to keep me from sulking?"

Maria smirked, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Maybe I just like seeing you all excited over ice cream. It's a good look on you."

He raised an eyebrow, playing along. "Well, I'm not above bribery."

With a laugh, Maria tugged him toward a small ice cream shop tucked between two larger buildings. The neon sign flickered above them as they entered, the cool air a welcome contrast to the warmth outside. Nero scanned the menu like a child in a candy store, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"I'm thinking...chocolate chip cookie dough," he declared after a moment, his voice filled with mock seriousness. "What's your pick, madam?"

Maria pretended to ponder, then finally settled on a flavor. "Strawberry sorbet. Light, refreshing—unlike someone I know who's about to inhale a sugar bomb."

Nero laughed as he handed over the money for their order. "Balance is key. I'll handle the sugar overload, you keep us grounded with your sophisticated choice."

They sat outside on a small bench, the city bustling around them, but it felt peaceful in their little bubble. Nero savored his ice cream, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "You know, this might just be the highlight of my day."

Maria smiled, licking her sorbet slowly. "Well, if that's all it takes, maybe I should treat you more often."

"Don't say that unless you mean it," Nero quipped, pointing his spoon at her playfully. "I'll hold you to it."

Maria shook her head, laughing softly. "You're so easy to please. What's there to think about?"

Nero shrugged, grinning as he scooped up another bite of his ice cream. "Maybe I'm just a man of simple tastes. Or maybe you're just that good at knowing what I like."

Maria raised an eyebrow, amused. "Simple? You? That's a stretch."

Nero leaned back on the bench, looking up at the sky. "True. But you know, it's the little things that keep me sane. Ice cream, a good book, and your company. What more could I ask for?"

Maria pretended to consider this. "Well, if that's all it takes, maybe I should start charging you for my presence."

Nero chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, you wouldn't do that. You enjoy my company too much. Besides, where would you find someone else willing to endure all those boring meetings just for the promise of ice cream?"

"Endure?" Maria teased. "And I bet you were having a little too much fun back there, stirring up trouble."

Nero's grin widened. "Guilty as charged. But you had to see Obadiah squirm, it was so worth it."

Maria tilted her head, smirking. "I suppose it was. You do have a knack for making people uncomfortable."

"Only the ones who deserve it," Nero said, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness. "Besides, it's not every day I get to mess with someone who thinks they're untouchable."

Maria nodded, a glint of approval in her eyes. "True. You did a good job today. Maybe I should reward you with something more than just ice cream."

Nero's eyes lit up with mock enthusiasm. "Like what?"

Maria turned her head, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she tried to hide her smile. Nero leaned closer, his grin playful yet teasing. "Oh, how naughty you've become," he quipped, his voice dropping to a mischievous whisper.

She shot him a look, clearly fighting back a smile. "You're incorrigible," she muttered, though there was no heat in her words.

Nero chuckled softly, enjoying the moment. "Only with you," he replied smoothly, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The simple gesture felt natural, comfortable, as if they'd done this dance a thousand times before. "So, about that reward..."

Maria rolled her eyes but couldn't help the grin tugging at her lips. "You're relentless, aren't you?"

Nero leaned back, hands behind his head as if savoring his victory. "It's one of my finer qualities," he said with mock seriousness. "But I'm willing to negotiate. Ice cream's a good start, but I'm open to suggestions."

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "You really think you've earned more after that meeting?"

He shot her a sideways glance, his expression suddenly more thoughtful. "Well, I did manage to keep my cool. Didn't flip the table or anything, even when Obadiah tried to act like he was still in charge. That counts for something, right?"

Maria raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "I suppose not causing a scene is worth a little extra."

Nero smirked, nudging her playfully with his shoulder. "See? You get it. So, what's next on the list? Central Park? That bookstore you can't resist?"

She gave him a sly look, tilting her head as if considering his offer. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll just drag you to that art exhibit I've been wanting to see. You know, the one you keep dodging."

Nero groaned theatrically, though his eyes gleamed with humor. "Fine, but only if we stop by that taco place on the way. I'm still hungry after all that corporate nonsense."

Maria laughed, shaking her head in mock disbelief. "Deal. But no complaining when we're surrounded by abstract sculptures."

Nero flashed a playful grin and remarked, "Well, it seems like abstract is the go-to style for sculptors these days."

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