Chapter 1

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"Y/n! Wake up!" My father shouted at a bright and early 3 in the morning. "It's time to start your training."

"Coming." I grumbled as I got ready for my daily training.

My dad was very important with his own business, Stark industries. He raised me to be strong and intelligent, as his apprentice. I often felt that's all I would be, he and I have never celebrated a birthday, I was homeschooled, and the worst of it all is that nobody knows I exist other than the few agents I spar with regularly.

I got started with just a punching bag and some weights for about 2 hours when my father approached me with a man by his side. I stood tall with my arms at my side.

"Ready for your sparring?" I nodded my head. "Perfect. I expect the best, nothing less."

The man and I fought over and over again, and time after time I brought him to the ground. We had a break once it hit 8 so that we could get water.

"Very good Y/n. Next spar I expect better form from you, it was a little sloppy today." He insisted.

"Understood father." I agreed reluctantly. I couldn't understand how I possibly had sloppy form, I was fully undefeated.

"Good, and remember, remain prepared for everything. You never know what you might face." I nodded my head. "Don't forget next week is my expo, I don't want you to miss it. I expect you to speak to no one about who you are. You are only there to observe."

"Yes, father." I agreed again.

"If all goes well at the expo I'll allow you to accompany me on a business trip soon. I'll be working directly with the military." He explained to me.

"Yes, father. Thank you" I was so excited to be able to go on this trip. Sure it was work but we could get a chance to show them my weaponry designs.

"Return to your training." He commanded.

The man and I continued to spar for a while. As always I remained undefeated, bringing him to the floor time and time again. I tried doing as my father said in hopes to make him proud, and kept a close focus on having a clean form, no sloppy hits.

I kept my focus strong on my form, mentally reminding myself of each sloppy mistake. Didn't follow through enough. Late block. Stumble. Too slow of a reaction. Then...

BANG!

I felt a hot burning feeling in my left shoulder. I looked down and saw my arm bleeding from a bullet wound. I looked back up and saw my father with the gun in his hand. I stood there in shock.

"What the HELL?!" I shouted as I applied pressure to the wound.

He pulled up his notes and began writing. "Preparation for any occurrence during a fight: Failure. Keeping focus during a fight: Failure. Need I go on?"

"Dad you shot me!" I shouted in awe of my own father's mood about this.

"Yes and you failed." He huffed. "Now go fix yourself up in your room. Training is done for the day."

I had no words. I left the training center and headed towards my desk in my room where I usually studied and designed some tech, but on the occasion, it did have to be my medical area.

I brought out my necessary sanitary supplies and carefully removed the bullet. It hurt like hell to take it out but I had no time to react I needed to quickly stitch the wound.

I spent the rest of my day studying and tinkering with some tech, still in shock of my father's recklessness towards his own child. Though this does just prove I'm not truly his child, simply his project, his little prodigy.

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