"That works too," he said with a smile. "I happen to be a bit thirsty."
However, Tony shook his head. He leaned against the door of his red sports car, hands in his suit pockets, wearing that "I have other things to do" expression.
"I won't go in," Tony declined, his tone light. "There's a party tonight, and I need to go back and get ready."
Howard glanced at his son, his eyes filled with a hint of disdain.
He knew that Tony's so-called "party" was likely another one of those debauched social gatherings, where a bunch of young rich kids and models hung out, drinking, dancing, and talking about superficial topics.
This made him frown, but in the end, he didn't say anything.
"Suit yourself," Howard said indifferently, not forcing the issue.
The relationship between father and son had always been delicate; too much interference would only make the atmosphere more tense.
Tony shrugged his shoulders, his gaze sweeping between Howard and Mavuika.
He could feel that the relationship between the two was abnormal, which made him even more curious—what kind of relationship did his father have with this mysterious woman?
Mavuika had already followed Howard as he turned and walked toward the Villa, his long golden-red hair fluttering gently in the breeze.
The setting sun outlined his silhouette with a soft halo, making him look somewhat unreal, like a character who had stepped out of a classical oil painting.
Tony stood in place, watching his back, his eyes flickering.
He seemed to live here.
Thinking of Howard's previous attitude toward Mavuika, Tony's brain began to run at high speed, analyzing all the details he had just observed.
Although Howard was trying his best to cover it up, Tony could still tell; it was a posture that mixed respect, politeness, and even a bit of caution, placing himself in a subordinate position.
For example, Howard would unconsciously lean slightly when speaking; for example, his gaze toward Mavuika carried obvious reverence; and for example, when Mavuika expressed an opinion, he would always listen carefully, even if the opinion sounded very casual.
And this was obviously abnormal.
Although the father-son relationship between Tony and Howard had never been good, with frequent arguments and mutual dislike, Tony knew very well what kind of person his father was.
Howard Stark, he was the founder of Stark Industries, the greatest scientist of the twentieth century!
He had experienced World War II, participated in the Manhattan Project, and worked side-by-side with scientific giants like Einstein and Fermi.
He had seen countless big figures, from the President of the United States to the Prime Minister of Britain, from Military generals to business tycoons...
And when facing these people, Howard had always been neither humble nor arrogant.
He had his own pride, his own principles, and would never be servile just because of the other party's status or position.
This was something Tony had known since he was a child; whether at family banquets or important company meetings, his father always maintained that calm confidence.
But now, facing a young girl who looked about his own age, why did Howard have such an unbelievable attitude?
Just because he was pretty? Or because he rode a motorcycle well?
Don't joke... A mocking arc curled at the corner of Tony's mouth.
He knew his father—Howard Stark was never the type to be bewitched by beauty, and as for riding skills... his father appreciated technique and talent, but would never be respectful to someone just because of that.
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