Glowing Embers (Avengers Fanfiction)

3-The Less I Know The Better

My heels clicked loudly against the marble floors as I made my way to the conference room. Once a year, the head honchos at Stark Industries get together to go over anything and everything that the company did that year. Since I was a Stark, I was graciously allowed to attend the meetings, since I technically owned a percentage of the company. However, there was some bullshit clause that I needed to be twenty to attend the meeting, so this was my very first one. Some brunette assistant rushed to greet me as I walked closer to those glass doors.

"Miss Stark, we weren't expecting you this year." She nervously announced, clutching a tablet to her chest. Obadiah glared at me from within the room. I ignored the assistant and pulled the door open. A dozen old men's heads turned to look at me and suddenly I'm glad that I chose the Chanel suit. I walk over to the only empty chair, sitting in between two geriatrics. Tony wasn't it the room, but he never comes to anything like this. He's probably waking up with some woman in his bed and hungover. Like you didn't this morning.

"Miss Stark, we didn't think you were going to come." Obadiah breathes out, standing. He had wiped the angry look off of his face and instead he looked glad that I was here. I smile back at him, taking my seat.

"And throw away my opportunity to be more involved with this company? Heavens no." I respond, my voice saccharine sweet. I lean back in my seat, a nice little smile on my face. I open the Stark Industries branded folder, glancing at the papers inside. Now trust me, I had done my homework, okay? I know what each one of these little numbers meant. I was here in good faith. I wanted to know more about the company, wanted to be involved

"Well, lets get started shall we?" Obadiah brings the attention back to his favorite person-himself. The meeting was boring, of course. What each department is doing, how much the Department of Defense wants of each weapon in the upcoming fiscal year. I was listening, I truly was. That was, until I caught a very big mistake. It's a good thing I can do math in my head, because numbers don't lie. One the men-Pickett? I think that's his name.-was in the middle of talking before I put a finger up.

"The numbers are off." I announce, looking up at head of accounting. He shifts under my gaze. Now, I just thought it was a simple mistake. They happen, of course. Humans are human. But the head of accounting looked nervous, like I wasn't supposed to notice. Shit.

"What?" Obadiah asks, blowing out a cloud of smoke from his cigar. He's trying to play it off, but his eyes say something else. Oh he is pissed off. So fucking pissed off. What are you up to, Obi?

"These numbers are off. Greatly. There's about five million dollars that are unaccounted for. Either you guys are shitty at math or there's something bigger at play here. I'm going to go with second one." I respond, narrowing my eyes slightly. The room is quiet and I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. Calm and cool. Even out your breathing.

"Miss Stark, I don't think you know what you're talking about." One of the men stupidly stutters and I pull a cigarette out of its little holder. I put it into my mouth, pulling out a lighter to light it. I breathe in the cancer filled smoke before exhaling it. There's one main exit. Windows are a viable escape if needed. Obadiah is the only one to worry about-unless each of these men has a gun on them. Wouldn't be hard to take control of the situation.

"No, you all know what I'm talking about. You guys aren't a bunch of narcos. This is a huge company that can't get away with shit like that. Hell, those business men will actually cover it up." I tell them, holding the cigarette daintily between my fingers before taking another puff of it. I continue, adding, "If you're going to play dirty, you need to cover it up a little bit better. Obviously, you guys didn't care because you thought I wasn't coming today."