*April 15th, 12:01pm.—ArCains, Liverpool.
The clatter of joysticks and electronic chiptune music echoed through the neon-lit arcade as Tony pushed the door open. He was late — as always — and a little nervous. His eyes scanned the place until he spotted Cristiano.
[This paradise was booked only for the two of them.]
The man wasn't in a suit for once in his whole life, maybe . A plain black jacket, dark jeans, and — surprisingly — sneakers. He sat at a retro arcade cabinet, completely focused, thumbs tapping at lightning speed.
Tony: "Didn't expect you to know Street Legacy: Chaos Wars."
Cristiano (grinning without turning): "I was the European champion in '99. Before empires, there were joysticks."
Tony (blinking): "Wait, you? A 40 year old—gamer?"
Cristiano (still grinning): " 40 isn't anything, Tony! Aaron's 43 and he's a strong fighter. Anyway I was a menace. Had a crew. We were called 'Nightfire'. Dumb name, but we ruled the underground tourneys."
Tony chuckled, partly from the mental image, partly from disbelief. Cristiano, the Bellingham CEO and cold-blooded capitalist, once an arcade rat?
[Rat is quite a strong word!!!!]
He sat beside him.
The two of them spent the next hour like boys unchained from time:
A retro shooter: Blasting pixelated alien scum side by side as neon explosions lit the screen. Cristiano kept calling out strategies like a general. Tony covered his back.
A racing sim: Tony chose the flashy car. Cristiano picked the ugliest but fastest model and kept ramming Tony into walls.
Tony: "That's cheating!"
Cristiano (smirking): "That's winning, son."
A rhythm music battle: Fast beats, tapping tiles, electronic guitars. Tony beat Cristiano with a perfect streak.
Cristiano: "Pfft. Reflexes are for the young. I had rhythm once… before taxes."
For the first time in weeks, Tony laughed without pretending.
Not like an heir.
Not like an imposter.
Just a son.
And why it was so special was because, Kai before becoming tony never had a dad. He grew up with his mom's love and since dying in japan, before gettin reincarnated, he hadn't seen his mom.
The Day Out Montage
As they exited the arcade, sunlight spilled across the streets of Downtown, Liverpool. Cristiano adjusted his collar and gave Tony a sly look.
Cristiano: "Come. One arcade's not enough for a Bellingham boy."
Tony: "You're seriously doing a montage day with me right now?"
Cristiano: "Consider it... inheritance training."
Cue montage mode:
📍Boardwalk Creamery(2:03pm)
They shared a two-scoop sundae — Tony went for mint-chocolate, Cristiano picked lemon basil. They argued about whose flavor was more "refined." (Tony won by pointing out basil didn't belong in dessert.)
📍Liverpool Museum(3:12pm)
Cristiano stood unusually still before an oil painting of a stormy sea. Tony caught him muttering something in Italian under his breath.
Tony: "What did you say?"
Cristiano: "Nothing. Just… memories."
They didn't talk much inside. Just walked. Silent understanding.
📍Luxury Watch Boutique(4:00pm)
The store shimmered with glass and gold. Cristiano pointed out a sleek, vintage timepiece behind a velvet rope.
Cristiano: "This belonged to a man who turned his father's pawn shop into a global brand. Got banned from five countries for tax evasion. Brilliant mind. Morally... flexible."
He bought it. Had it fitted to Tony's wrist.
Cristiano: "It doesn't measure time. It carries legacy."
📍Rooftop Sushi Bar(4:30pm)
The table was small, the wind soft. The only sounds were birds, chopsticks clicking, and a faint lo-fi tune from the outdoor speaker system. No one stared. No one whispered.
Just a father and son sharing eel rolls and sipping cucumber water, eyes on the endless blue sky.
Tony (thinking):
"He's nothing like I expected. Maybe he's been playing a part too. Just like me."
And finally, to end a wonderful day: Bellingham Tower, Sunset Viewpoint(5:05pm)
The black sedan coasted into the Bellingham Tower underground garage. The elevator to the Sunset Deck was already waiting. No keycard needed.
They ascended in silence.
When the doors opened, they stepped into golden light. Floor-to-ceiling glass framed the city like a masterpiece. The skyline glittered, dipped in warm amber. A jazz track played gently in the background.
Tony held a glass of chilled apple cider. Cristiano held a cigar — unlit — rolling it between his fingers.
They stood at the railing, saying nothing. The moment didn't ask for words.
But then, Cristiano broke the silence.
Cristiano: "You know... I wasn't born into all this. The suits, the skyscrapers, the headlines. No. I was born in Naples. Street kid. Learned to throw a punch before I learned to read."
Tony looked at him. This wasn't the usual corporate mythos. This felt… real.
Cristiano (continuing): I know we rarely talk, since you were three when your mom left. "My father — your grandfather — brought me here when I was ten. Started a construction company. Nothing fancy. Brick, sweat, stubbornness. When I turned 18, he handed me the reins."
Tony: "Just like that?"
Cristiano (chuckling): "Just like that. Said I had 'the fire'. What I had was ego. I nearly burned it all."
He took a slow breath.
Cristiano: "So I studied. Obsessively. Learned economics, market patterns, business psychology. I stopped being a boy. Became steel."
Tony: "And then you built the empire."
Cristiano: "Yes. But not alone. There was someone else."
He smiled, faint and distant.
Cristiano: "Hinata."
Tony's heart flickered. He'd heard her name before — always in fragments, always like a ghost. "Hinata, the one accused for murder? Who was she to him?
Cristiano: "She didn't give a damn about my money. Or my suits. She saw… the boy under all the armor. We married in Paris. Stormy day. No guests. She said the thunder made it feel alive. Her cute smile, affection, smarts, he was like a gyaru, a modest one at that. I can't recall her hair, because she always changed but one thing i can never forget is her wonderful light blue eyes!"
[Gyaru is a japanese term, for a woman who usually shows a lot of skin, usually has more "bust" and is usually on the more-developed side than other female. HINATA was well-developed but didn't show skin]
"Tony(kai) said to himself. " Wow, kinda reminds me of mom! Well the light-blue eyes part. Tony(Kai) imagined that. Rain hitting glass. Two people saying "I do" in defiance of the world. But what made him think the most was
*Cristiano married Hinata!!!!!*
Cristiano: "You were born a year later. My first real weakness. I swore I'd protect you. Then… two years later came Matteo."
[So Hinata is tony's mom????]
Tony blinked. Matteo, huh? His mind flashed back to the pic he saw before, questions and thoughts filled his head, but he decided to play it cool
Cristiano: "Firecracker. Wild eyes, wild soul. He stayed with us for a year. But things turned dark. Too dark."
A heavy silence hung in the air.
Cristiano: "She left. Took Matteo. I let it happen because it had to. So as to prevent her from suffering for a crime she wasn't involved in. Some wars aren't worth destroying everything for."
The wind tugged at his coat. The sun dipped lower, dyeing the city in rose gold.
Cristiano: "I lost her. I lost him. But I never let myself lose you."
Tony didn't know what to say. He gripped the railing tighter.
Tony (softly): "...Was this her favourite view?"
Cristiano nodded.
Cristiano: "Hinata loved sunsets. Said they make even cold men feel something."
Tony turned toward him sharply.
Cristiano (hesitates): "Hinata....Hinata Bellingham
Tony absorbed that like it was a secret unlocked.
Tony: "Why did she.....Why did mom leave?"
Cristiano's face shut down. Whatever warmth had flickered vanished.
Cristiano (quietly): "Forget the past. It won't change what's coming."
Tony didn't press. The silence between them had weight. Meaning. History.
Tony (more quietly): " I still want to know! More about Mom, more about Matteo, more about why she left.
Cristiano stiffened. The cigar between his fingers stopped spinning. He looked out — far, like searching the horizon for something only he could see.
Cristiano (cold but fragile): "I'll tell you… when the time is right."
Tony heard it. The crack in the armor. The grief behind the control.
He nodded.
And then they stood — side by side — father and son. The cold king and the heir prince. Not enemies. Not strangers.
Just two men watching the sun disappear behind a city they both belonged to, in different ways.
Even if it was just for today.
[END OF CHAPTER]