She shoved him away by the chest, breaking the hug.
She turned around, marched straight over to the massive bed, and flopped face-down onto the mattress.
She grabbed a pillow and pulled it over her head to hide her red face.
“You are so dumb,” her muffled voice came from under the pillow.
Marcus just let out a quiet laugh.
He walked over to the leather couch and sat down, grabbing the spare blanket.
The fear and guilt that had been suffocating her all night were completely gone.
She was just a normal, embarrassed teenager again.
“Get some sleep, Marie,” he said, still smiling a little.
“We have a long day tomorrow.”
Marcus settled into the leather cushions, pulling the spare blanket over his legs.
The room was finally quiet, the heavy, suffocating tension completely broken.
From the bed, Marie’s breathing had already started to slow, the exhaustion of the last days dragging her under the second her head hit the pillow.
As Marcus closed his eyes, a soft, familiar chime rang out in his mind.
In the darkness behind his eyelids, the pale blue interface flickered to life.
[Bond Influence: Deepened.]
[Psychological Anchor successfully reinforced. Target’s emotional dependency and trust have stabilized.]
[Reward: +50 Merit Points.]
[Current Balance: 380 Merit Points.]
Marcus let out a slow, quiet breath.
Three hundred and eighty.
…
Marcus stood in Emma’s office the next afternoon, the wall screen playing a muted business broadcast.
PEPPER POTTS NAMED CEO OF STARK INDUSTRIES, the ticker read, looping over footage of a press conference — Pepper at a podium, Tony nowhere in sight.
By the glass, Emma watched the feed loop without bothering to turn around.
“Promoting the secretary to CEO,” she said, tone dry.
“Days after a Russian lunatic nearly whipped him to death on live television. Interesting.”
Hands in his pockets, Marcus leaned against the doorframe, watching Pepper field a swarm of reporters without breaking a sweat.
“She already runs the place. He just finally put her name on the door.”
That got a glance over her shoulder, eyes narrowing a fraction.
“I watch the news. She’s been cleaning up his public messes for years. Doesn’t take a security clearance to see who actually runs his life.”
She turned fully, leaning back against the edge of her desk.
“So tell me. What’s your read?”
On screen, Stark flashed a peace sign at a camera before disappearing into a town car.
“Honestly? Hammer’s practically sweating through his suit, and Stark looks like hell. Just sit back and let ’em wreck each other.”
A low, dismissive scoff.
“Please. Hammer is a glorified salesman with third-rate engineers. Stark will crush him without stepping out of his bathrobe. There won’t be any mutual destruction.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, leaning back against the frame.
“Hammer’s got deep pockets and zero shame. That usually leads to something exploding. Want to put money on it?”
Her eyes narrowed further, composure shifting a fraction.
“Excuse me?”
“A bet.” Deadpan.
“Let’s see who’s right.”
She stopped.
A short, sharp sound escaped her throat — an actual laugh.
“A bet.” She picked up her espresso, swirling it.
“I’ll play. Let’s say I formally hire you as my ‘advisor.'”
Heels clicking against marble, she walked around the edge of the desk.
“If, by some absolute miracle, Justin Hammer actually becomes a legitimate threat to Tony Stark, I take you off lockdown. Master keycard. You and the girl get free rein to come and go from this tower exactly as you please.” A mocking smile touched the corners of her mouth.
“Hell, I’ll even give you a kiss in front of my entire board, just to see the looks on their faces.”
He pulled one hand out of his pocket.
“A keycard and a show for the shareholders. Alright. What exactly do I put on the table?”
Her eyes dragged over the plain clothes his security escort had handed him that morning.
“Nothing. You don’t have a dime to your name anyway.” She let that land, unbothered.
“And you’re going to lose. So consider me feeling generous.”
She stopped a few feet from him, arms crossing, the playfulness dropping out of her voice.
“But when Stark swats him down, you drop the attitude. You sign whatever contract I put in front of you.” A pause.
“Without reading the fine print.”
“It’s a bet.”
…
Marcus turned and headed for the door, already thinking through everything else he needed to figure out for the day.
He’d barely made it two steps into the hallway when a sharp chime disturbed his thoughts.
[SYSTEM ALERT.]
He kept walking, letting the notification hover in the corner of his vision.
[Merit Shop: Tier Threshold Reached.]
[Upgrading to Tier 2.]
Marcus slowed his pace..
Huh? an upgrade out of nowheree?
The interface expanded, more text scrolling into view.
[Tier 1 Shop: Refreshes every 24 hours.]
[Tier 2 Shop: Refreshes once every 30 days. Higher-value items, higher costs, permanent effects more common.]
[To Unlock Tier 3: Complete Full Bond with a minimum of 2 Bonded Heirs.]
Marcus stopped walking entirely, standing alone in the middle of the hallway.
Once a month?
That’s — okay, that actually makes sense, I guess.
Bigger toys, longer wait.
But two Bonded Heirs?
He turned that over as he started walking again, slower this time.
I’ve barely got one relationship stable enough to call a “bond.” Marie, and even that’s still fragile as hell.
Where am I supposed to find a second person to bond with, and how exactly is that gonna work without it getting complicated?
He reached his door, tapped in the code, and stepped inside, the lock clicking shut behind him.
Dropping onto the edge of the bed.
Tier 2’s already a massive step up.
Worry about Tier 3 later.
He pulled the interface back up, scrolling to the new tier.
[MERIT SHOP — TIER 2]