He wouldn't say that it was instantaneous.
There was a time he respected Howard Stark.
There was a time he thought he genuinely cared for Anthony Stark.
But he saw the weakness in Howard first. He couldn't be sure if the trait was inherent, something inborn and typical of Stark men, but even the death of Howard and Maria Stark didn't sway Tony from his — weakened path.
It wasn't that he didn't try.
He'd poured so much effort into him already, it seemed a waste to let go too soon. And yet Tony was nothing. The genius, the golden goose of SI, but the eggs had lost their luster, and geniuses were a dime a dozen.
AIM was promising. His weapons were sold globally, his company trampled the competition by years.
Stark may have been the name, Tony may have been the face of the company, but he was little more than wild animal.
An animal that had outlived its usefulness.
It wasn't difficult to set the hit up.
Flash enough money at anyone and they'll do what you want.
It was a shame, so much effort wasted.
He wrote his eulogy that same night.