Henry casually adjusted his collar as a familiar figure approached, carrying two glasses of champagne.
It was the blonde reporter he'd met at the dinner party before everything was interrupted by the kidnapping.
"Mr. Henry, we meet again," she teased, her eyes gleaming with admiration.
"Seems our last conversation was cut short. Will I get to hear the rest of your story tonight?"
He took the glass and winked, offering a charming smile.
"Of course, beautiful lady. But tonight's tale is a long and thrilling one. Are you sure you're ready?"
She met his gaze, cheeks flushing, chest out:
"I'm a professional, Mr. Stark. I've seen excitement before."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Henry smiled, drained his champagne, and handed the empty glass off to another passing beauty.
He made his way to Tony, taking in the spectacle with a good-natured complaint.
"Tony, how long was I gone? You've turned this place into a zoo. Your taste, honestly, is so basic—I expected you to at least hire some top-tier people, not a crowd of vases screaming and shaking."
"Oh, come on," Tony shot back, unbothered.
"At least they're easy on the eyes. Unlike you—always surrounded by cold metal. Sometimes I wonder if your sexual orientation is industrial-grade."
"No, obviously not."
The brothers bickered, completely unfazed by the crowd, which only seemed to fuel the partygoers' excitement.
Then Tony's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, saw Pepper's name, and—without hesitation—hit mute, slipping it back in his pocket.
"Who was it?" Henry asked.
"Pepper." Tony waved it off.
"Probably wants to debate stocks, the board, or my cholesterol. Boring. Tonight's for celebration, not spreadsheets."
Henry smiled, knowing this was Tony—always chasing pleasure, but shouldering burdens when they mattered.
After their exchange, Henry raised his arms and called out to the women in the pool:
"The party really starts now! Miss me, honey?"
A wave of cheers and shrieks swept the party, and electrifying music erupted anew.
Crowds of beauties surged towards Henry, all vying for a moment in his orbit.
He laughed and welcomed the energy, weaving through actresses and models, charming each one with ease.
Tonight, he outshone Tony, as if fame and fortune were second nature.
Tony watched from the sidelines, wine in hand, a subtle smile in his eyes.
Despite his joking complaints about Henry stealing his thunder, he felt more relaxed than ever.
His little brother, once needing protection, now stood as his equal—shoulder to shoulder.
Eventually, Henry escaped the throng and joined Tony at the edge of the party, the faithful reporter trailing him.
"Why are you hiding with a drink? Jealous I'm in higher demand?" Henry teased, nudging Tony.
"Jealous?" Tony laughed.
"I'm pondering a serious scientific dilemma."
"Oh? Since when are you a scientist again? Thought you were the party animal tonight."
Tony's eyes glinted.
"Once this dull party closes, we're hitting the lab. I need a full exam—you're my key data for the serum combo in your veins. Jarvis has his theories, but I want to see how they fuse. I'll forge the perfect super-soldier serum for myself. No way I'll let you hog all the spotlight."
"Monster?" Henry raised an eyebrow.
"No, Tony. That's called evolution."
He lifted his glass—smiling to the crowd and to the reporter by his side.
Tony rolled his eyes.
"Did I hear you say 'evolving?' You just won the genetic lottery, that's all. Honestly, the way you talk is like a mad scientist about to end the world in a B-movie. Add a weird laugh next time—it'll be perfect."
"We're both the same," Henry shot back, finishing his champagne.
"But my performance is more eco-friendly than your tin can, and I don't worry about paint scratches. Seriously, Tony, insure that thing—bird strikes will bankrupt you."
Their playful feuding was now legendary among Stark guests—an entertainment highlight.
Later, Henry retreated to the villa's upstairs balcony.
He sipped his drink, watching swimmers and the city's glowing skyline, a faint smile on his lips.
But in his eyes flickered a deeper, solitary thought.
It was good to be alive.
To feel grounded, to breathe, to think, to protect those who mattered.
He remembered his parents—Howard and Maria Stark—publicly affectionate, always treating him like the world's most spoiled child.
Since first realizing he was living in the dangerous Marvel universe, anxiety shadowed his thoughts about their fate.
He carried secrets, fighting alone against a future he secretly feared.
His first act had been to seek out Howard, indirectly mentioning Captain America and the hidden super soldier serum.
His idea was audacious: get the whole Stark family injected with the serum.
As long as they could defend themselves, maybe they would survive whatever the future held.
But Howard refused.
Though still a genius, he was mellowed by peacetime.
Patting Henry's head, Howard had told him:
"Kid, the war is over, and the world is safe now. We don't need that dangerous thing."