I Promise (Tony Stark Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

Tony POV

She was so beautiful.

That was the only thing I could think when I laid eyes on her.

She had my brown eyes and brown hair, slightly wavy as it reached a little below her waist. Her skin was like her mother's, tan and Greek. Her lips were a blood red, just like her mother's. She was of average height for a fifteen year old, but extremely thin. Her cheekbones were more visible than they should be, and her cheeks were slightly hallow. My . . . child. God, that's going to take some getting used to.

"Hey, kid," I say a little awkwardly. She looks at me, not saying a word. Probably freaked out.

"So, what's your name?" I ask her, hoping to get an answer. When I had asked Fury not to tell me anything about her, I meant it. I didn't want to hear it from him, considering he is a spy. He is THE spy. His secrets have secrets. "Mine's Tony."

"I-Isadora," she stuttered out quietly as she refused to make eye contact with me.

"Isadora?" I questioned, taking a seat in the available chair on the other side of the table. "I'm guessing that's Greek?"

She nodded her head quickly "Y-Yes, sir."

"Just like your mother," I said quietly. She looked up at the mention of her mother. Curiosity burned in her eyes, along with something else I didn't want to see. Fear and pain. No one ever wants to see their child in pain. Even if you've only known them for a couple of minutes, it still bothered you.

"My m-mother, sir?" Isadora says with interest. I look at her with a smile, loving the way her eyes showed so much emotion.

"Um, yeah," I answer a little late. "Yeah, I knew your mother." Her eyebrows raised in shock. She was barely seated on the chair, almost jumping up from what I guessed and hoped was excitement.

"You d-did, sir?" She questioned me with a small smile. "What w-was she like?" I got a puzzled look on my face. Hasn't she been living with her mother all these years? Who's she been living with?

Realization finally hit me and my heart dropped into my stomach. I felt nauseated as I Iooked at my daughter. No, I thought to myself. She can't be an . . . orphan. She can't.

"You don't live with your mother?"

She shakes her head. "N-No, sir. I never h-have. All I-I know is that her n-name is Stacia Z-Zervos and she was f-from Kozani. That's it, s-sir." I look at her with a pained expression as she opens her mouth to say something, "H-How did you know m-my mother, sir?" She whispers in fear. I can see her trembling, afraid of what she thinks I'm going to do to her.

Anger filled me immediately. Something or someone had made my daughter afraid. No one is naturally scared to ask questions. My poor daughter . . .

"Isadora," I say quietly. I look at her with the same pained expression as before. How would she react to me telling her I was her father? Would she be happy? Sad? Angry? Indifferent? I hoped for the first.

"I'm . . . your father." I say clearly. I look up at her to gauge her reaction. She looks at me first with a confused expression, as if she was still processing what I had said. Then, a shocked expression overcame her face.

"Y-You're m-m-my father-r-r?" She nearly yelled. I nodded my head. She keeps looking at me, as if she were inspecting me to make sure I'm really her father. Her eyes travelled from my head down to my torso as she took me in. Suddenly, a look of sadness overcomes her face as she looks down. And I might have imagined it, but I saw a tear run down her cheek.

"Why d-didn't y-you w-w-want m-m-me-e-e?" She whispered in a broken voice, wiping the cascade of tears off her cheeks.

My heart broke in that instant. All of my selfishness and greed disappeared as I looked at my daughter crying, questioning me about something I didn't know about. In that moment, I realized that I had accepted being a father and would put her first. Always.