In the sprawling garden of the Stark mansion, five elderly gentlemen were seated around a large, ornate table, the morning sun casting dappled shadows through the trees. This was their tradition—every second and fourth Friday, the patriarchs of the Stark, Carter, Thompson, White, and Hiddleston families gathered for brunch, a ritual that had persisted through decades of friendship and rivalry.
Older Mr. Stark, with his mane of silver hair, leaned back in his chair, a content smile on his face. "Gentlemen, isn't it a fine day?"
"Indeed, it is," chuckled Older Mr. Carter, his closest friend since childhood. The two had been through thick and thin together, their bond unbreakable. Older Mr. Thompson, ever the joker, raised his glass. "To old friends and new mischief."
The men laughed, their camaraderie palpable. Older Mr. White and Older Mr. Hiddleston, who had joined the group during their early business days, nodded in agreement.
Their laughter was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Gerard White, Stephen's father. His expression was one of conflict and worry. Older Mr. Stark noticed immediately. "Gerard, my boy, what's troubling you?"
Gerard sighed deeply, taking a seat. "It's Summer and Tristan. They're at each other's throats, competing fiercely for a billion-dollar deal with White Corp. It's getting out of hand."
The elderly men exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from amusement to concern. Older Mr. Stark and Older Mr. Carter, though proud of their grandchildren's ambition, were deeply worried. The rivalry between Summer and Tristan was no secret, but the intensity of their competition was becoming alarming.
"Well," Older Mr. Hiddleston said with a playful grin, "it's good to see the younger generation's blood boiling with ambition. Shows they've got spirit."
Older Mr. White nodded in agreement. "Gerard, you should feel proud. They're fighting hard for their future."
"But it's not just about the deal," Gerard continued. "It's about their animosity. It's unhealthy, and it's affecting their relationships and potentially our family ties."
Older Mr. Stark's face softened at the mention of Summer. He had a soft spot for her and couldn't bear the thought of her being caught in this rivalry. "Tristan needs to stop this. He shouldn't be bullying Summer."
Older Mr. Carter laughed heartily. "Bullying? My Sam? She's tougher than she looks. But you're right, they shouldn't be doing this out of spite. It's not healthy."
Older Mr. White leaned forward, his expression serious. "Why don't you both talk to them together? This rivalry has gone on too long, and we don't even know the real reason behind it anymore."
Older Mr. Thompson nodded, a nostalgic smile on his face. "I remember when they were kids, how inseparable they were. Innocent times. It's a shame to see how things have turned."
The group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts. The stakes were high, and the future of their families' relationships hung in the balance. The elders knew it was time to step in, to guide the younger generation back to a healthier path.
Older Mr. Stark finally spoke up, his voice resolute. "Alright, let's do it. We'll talk to them. For the sake of our families and their future, this rivalry needs to end."
The others nodded in agreement, the decision made. They would intervene, hoping to mend the rift between Summer and Tristan before it was too late.
Tristan had barely stepped into his car when his phone buzzed. It was his grandfather, older Mr. Stark, summoning him to the mansion. Summer's call, meanwhile, didn't go through, leaving her unaware of the elders' concern.
Thirty minutes later, Tristan arrived at the sprawling Stark mansion. The outdoor garden, usually a place of serenity, felt charged with tension. The group of elderly men gave him somber looks, while Gerard White's anxious gaze followed him.
Tristan greeted them all respectfully, "Good afternoon, Grandpa. Old Mr. Carter, Old Mr. Thompson, Old Mr. White, Old Mr. Hiddleston, Mr. Gerard. You wanted to see me?"
Older Mr. Stark wasted no time. "Tristan, what do you think you're doing with these extreme measures against Summer? This rivalry is getting out of hand."
Tristan clenched his fists, his anger rising. "You're siding with her, Grandfather? With my enemy?"
Older Mr. Stark's expression hardened. "Don't talk back to me, Tristan. Summer is not just anyone. She's a brilliant young woman, and your actions are unbecoming. Why must you always compete with her?"
Tristan kept his tone respectful but firm. "Grandpa, I'm not just competing for the sake of it. This is about securing the project with White Corp. It's business."
Older Mr. Thompson and older Mr. White exchanged worried glances and stepped in to diffuse the situation. "Now, now, let's not get heated," Mr. Thompson began, his voice soothing. "We're here to talk, not to argue."
Mr. White nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We just want to understand what's going on and ensure things don't get out of control."
Older Mr. Carter, who had been silent, finally spoke. "It's not just Tristan's fault. Summer is equally responsible. We can't lay all the blame on one side." He smiled warmly at Tristan. "Remember, we're not against you. We just want what's best for everyone."
Tristan felt a pang of gratitude towards Mr. Carter. At least someone understood. "Thank you, Old Mr. Carter. I appreciate your fairness."
Older Mr. Carter sighed, sensing Tristan's resolve. "Perhaps it's best we don't meddle too much in the younger generation's affairs. They're capable of sorting it out themselves."
Tristan heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Old Mr. Carter. You're the most sensible one here."
"If only you were my grandfather instead of Summer's." keeping this thought to himself, he left the mansion, his anger still simmering. "That evil witch has bewitched my grandpa," he muttered under his breath, fuming as he walked to his car. "How could he take her side?"
The elderly watched him go, disappointment etched on their faces. "We tried," old Mr. Hiddleston said with a shrug. "But the young ones are stubborn."
Older Mr. Stark sighed heavily. "I just hope this doesn't end badly for either of them."
Older Mr. Carter nodded. "They'll find their way. They always do."
As Tristan drove away, he couldn't shake his frustration. He needed to find a way to outsmart Summer without causing more trouble. The battle was far from over, and he was determined to come out on top.
After Tristan left, older Mr. Carter sighed and tried calling Summer again. The call didn't go through, and he shared his concern with the group.
"Still no luck," he said, shaking his head. "She must be busy."
Old Mr. Thompson suggested, "Why not try Max? He might know where she is."
Nodding, older Mr. Thompson dialed Max. Max was sitting with Summer in her hospital ward when his phone rang, and he picked it up immediately.
"Hello, Max here."
"Max, it's Grandpa. Do you know where Summer is?" old Mr. Thompson inquired.
Max blurted out, "She's right here with me."
Summer glared at him, her eyes wide with annoyance. He had slipped. With no choice left, she took his phone and greeted, "Hello, Grandpa Thompson."
"Ah, Summer, good to hear your voice," he replied, then handed the call over to older Mr. Carter.
"Sam, where have you been? Why aren't you visiting us at home?" older Mr. Carter asked, his voice both concerned yet doting.
Summer glanced at her arm, which was in a sling from her gunshot wound, and replied nonchalantly, "I've been busy with business, Grandpa. I'll come home in about two weeks. I don't want to worry you or the rest of the family."
"Why isn't your phone going through, Sam?" older Mr. Carter asked, his voice both concerned.
Summer replied insistingly, "I lost my phone, Grandpa. I got a new one."
Older Mr. Carter chuckled. "Lost your phone, or did you destroy it in a fit of anger while competing with Tristan for the project?"
Summer was momentarily shocked but quickly feigned innocence. "I told you, Grandpa, it was lost."
Older Mr. Carter's tone turned gentle but firm. "Sam, don't go to such extreme heights to compete with Tristan. It's not worth it."
Summer remained adamant. "Grandpa, I know what I'm doing. Tristan can't be underestimated."
Suddenly, old Mr. Stark snatched the phone from older Mr. Carter. "Let me talk to her."
"Gramps!" Summer greeted warmly. "How are you?"
"Missing you, Sam. You don't visit me anymore," old Mr. Stark complained playfully.
Summer laughed. "Gramps, you know I'm busy with work. But I miss you too."
Old Mr. Stark's voice softened. "You know, you shouldn't take things too far with Tristan. It's not good for either of you."
Summer tried to coax him. "Oh, Gramps, I wish you weren't Tristan's grandfather. How about you become my grandpa instead?"
Old Mr. Stark chuckled. "I'd love that, but alas, we can't change family trees."
After a few more exchanges of pleasantries, they said their goodbyes, and the call ended.
Summer handed the phone back to Max, her expression darkening. "That Trash-tin dared complain about me to the elders as if he's innocent. Perhaps he's just scared that I'll win."