The elevator's descent indicator suddenly lit up, and the metal doors silently slid apart. The blinding light of the crystal chandelier outside poured in, illuminating Hawk and Natasha—who hadn't fully separated—and the two figures about to step in.
Tony Stark. His tie was loosely knotted, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned three times, exposing his muscular chest. One arm was half-embracing, half-supporting a busty, blonde supermodel whose cheeks were flushed with a captivating blush, her gown's strap slipped down one arm, and her eyes were hazy.
Tony stepped halfway into the car, looked up at the scene inside—especially the sight of Hawk's hand still resting on Natasha's waist and the near-zero-distance tension between them—and paused. His face immediately broke into his signature, roguish, knowing smile.
"Woah..." Tony drawled, his eyebrows shooting up. His gaze scanned ambiguously between Hawk and Natasha, finally landing on Natasha's stunning face and fiery figure. "Interrupting your… 'in-depth exchange'? This Lane Tower elevator is pretty good quality, Stark Industries original, right?"
He guided the model into the car, and the elevator doors slowly closed. The confined space was instantly filled with the scent of high-end perfume, alcohol, and an undeniable tension.
The supermodel seemed more severely drunk, leaning heavily on Tony. She looked at Natasha curiously, giggling foolishly. "Tony… this Russian sister… so pretty…" She reached out as if to touch Natasha's red hair.
Tony quickly pinned down her restless hand. He winked at Hawk. "Looks like little brother Hawk had quite a haul tonight. This lady's allure… tsk tsk, much more captivating than any Wall Street candlestick chart." He openly admired Natasha, his gaze carrying the distinct boldness of a predator. "Mind sharing your contact information, beautiful lady? I think New York has plenty of interesting places to explore besides Hawk."
Natasha's captivating expression didn't change. She gently slipped out of Hawk's grasp. Hawk, taking the cue, released her and casually leaned against the elevator wall, wearing a look of amusement. Natasha smoothed her slightly disheveled hair, turning to Tony. A perfect arc curved on her red lips, and a trace of lazy provocation flickered in her bright blue eyes.
"Mr. Stark," her Russian accent sounded particularly rich and charming now. "New York is indeed very interesting. But I heard that Stark Industries' stock has been fluctuating quite… violently lately?" She tilted her head slightly, feigning innocence. "Just like a Wall Street candlestick chart, right? Exploring your company's stock trends would probably be much more thrilling than exploring you personally." She paused, then added, "Especially coming from a man who can't stop talking."
"Pff…" Hawk couldn't help but let out a low laugh.
The smile on Tony's face froze for a second. The "Russian wealthy socialite's" response was both sharp and slightly mocking, precisely hitting the nerve of his lengthy presentation—and even questioning his capacity? This was a rare occurrence in the history of Tony Stark's domination of the New York social scene.
"Oh?" Tony immediately adjusted his expression, putting his mischievous smile back on. He countered, "Romanova is quite the researcher, I see? Then you should know that stock fluctuation and a man's capacity are entirely similar: severe volatility is full of infinite pleasure, while stability means only boredom and… brevity." He threw a pointed look at Hawk, clearly implying that despite Hawk's youth, he couldn't possibly measure up to him.
Natasha was about to speak again when the elevator gave a slight shudder, arriving at the top floor ballroom. The doors opened once more, and the bright lights and noise of the gala instantly flooded the car.
Standing outside the door were two people.
Norman Osborn was expressionless, his hawk-like eyes sharply scanning the four people in the elevator: the disheveled Tony and his drunken supermodel, and the subtle-yet-intense pairing of Hawk and the highly recognizable red-haired beauty, Natalia Romanova.
The eyes of the entire party followed Osborn to the elevator, and a momentary silence fell. Some people even glanced toward the two men's companions, Andy and a very stony-faced Pepper Potts.
Harry Osborn stood half a step behind his father, his gaze once again sweeping past everyone to land on Shin Si-ah, who was quietly guarding a corner in the distance. Shin Si-ah seemed to sense his stare and met it with a cold look that seemed to pierce his soul, making Harry's heart jump. He instinctively averted his eyes.
Norman's gaze lingered on Natasha for an extra two seconds, as if assessing something. The air in the elevator car was now completely solidified.
Tony clearly hadn't expected to run into the Osborn father and son the moment the door opened, and Norman's scrutinizing look irritated him. He instinctively tried to push the drunken model in his arms away slightly, attempting to regain a semblance of propriety.
Hawk was the first to react. The impeccable host's smile instantly returned to his face, as if all the awkwardness and probing in the elevator had never happened. He stepped naturally out of the elevator, positioning himself in front of the Osborns, effectively blocking their view of Natasha inside the car.
"Mr. Osborn, Harry," Hawk's voice was steady and warm, as if it were a casual meeting. "The height of the party is just beginning. Did you two miss any exciting auction items?"
Norman's eyes shifted from Hawk's face, returning to Tony who was now half-supporting the supermodel as he walked out of the elevator. A supremely cold, overtly sarcastic smirk played on Norman's lips.
"Exciting?" Norman's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached everyone present. "General Ross just bought what looked like a 'half-knuckle-duster' thing. Apparently, a sorcerer can use it to open portals. But compared to your little drama, I suppose that's insignificant." His eyes turned meaningfully between Tony, Hawk, and Natasha. "The Stark Industries CEO leaves the charity gala midway with a date, only to emerge from the elevator with Mr. Lane and this… 'Ms. Romanova'? This plot is far more entertaining than any auction. It seems there's a particular… Stark scent in that elevator."
The remark was barbed, simultaneously mocking Tony's playboy reputation, hinting at the potential chaos that just occurred in the elevator, and dragging Hawk and Natasha into the mess. The atmosphere instantly became charged.
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