The next day, Dave summoned both his secretary and bodyguard to his office. As they entered, he addressed them with a commanding presence.
"I called you both here for two reasons," Dave began, his tone authoritative yet composed.
His secretary, a Latina woman named Diana with sleek black hair, and his bodyguard, an American man named Albert, stood attentively. Dave's gaze shifted between them as he prepared to outline his directives.
"First," he said, "I need you both to familiarize yourselves with my new schedule and responsibilities. Everything is going to change with me stepping into this new role, and I need you to be on top of every detail."
Diana nodded, her expression professional. "Understood, sir. I'll review all the necessary documents and make sure everything is organized and up-to-date."
"Second," Dave continued, gesturing toward the figure standing near his desk. "I want to introduce you to Trish."
Trish stood there with her arms crossed, dressed in black jeans, a white top, and a leather jacket. She nodded coolly in their direction.
"She was my secretary before you came on board, Diana," Dave said smoothly, covering his tracks with a convenient explanation. "My father kept me distanced from certain parts of his life, so I had people like Trish helping in the shadows."
Diana and Albert exchanged glances, clearly surprised but respectful. "It's good to meet you, Trish," Diana said, extending her hand.
Trish, ever the cool figure, shook her hand briefly. "Likewise," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice as if she enjoyed the hidden layers in Dave's cover story.
"Young master, was she appointed by Sir James, or by you?" Albert asked, casting a wary glance at Trish.
"By me, of course," Dave replied, meeting Albert's gaze.
Albert nodded respectfully but pressed on. "Forgive me, young master, but I would like to see her qualifications. Before, it didn't matter much, but now, young master, you are now more than just the son of a billionaire. You now have to take charge of all the companies your father left behind," he explained.
"And for that, you'll need a qualified secretary. To me, she looks more like a punk than a professional," Albert remarked, eyeing Trish skeptically.
Trish, however, paid him no mind. To her, his concerns were no more than the buzzing of an insignificant insect.
Dave's eyes narrowed slightly as Albert voiced his concerns. "I appointed her, Albert," Dave said, his tone steady but firm. "Her qualifications are more than enough for what I need. Just because she doesn't fit the typical image of a secretary doesn't mean she's not capable."
Albert, though respectful, didn't back down completely. "Young master, I understand that. But with all due respect, handling your father's companies is no small task. The people around you need to be capable, experienced, and—"
"Enough," Dave interrupted, his voice cool but decisive. "I appreciate your concern, but Trish's skills are beyond what you can imagine."
Trish, standing with her arms still crossed, smirked. "A punk, huh?" she echoed, clearly unbothered. "I am like that."
Albert seemed a bit taken aback by Trish's confidence, but he didn't say anything further, understanding that Dave's word was final.
Diana, who had been quietly observing the exchange, stepped forward diplomatically. "Albert, I think it's best we trust the young master's judgment. If Trish is here, there's a reason for it."
Albert gave a small bow. "Of course. Forgive me, young master. I just wanted to ensure everything is in the best hands."
Dave relaxed slightly. "It's fine. Just remember, appearances can be deceiving. Now, both of you get back to work. There's a lot to prepare for."
As they left Dave's office, Trish shot him an amused glance. "I like the way you handle things, boss."
Dave shook his head and mumbled, "For a moment, I thought you were going to punch him out. Fortunately, you didn't."
Trish shrugged. "A half Devil like me doesn't survive the human world with a bad temper."
Dave nodded in agreement.
***
Outside Dave's office, both Diana and Albert walked silently, their faces turning pensive as they processed what had just happened.
"What do you think of her?" Albert asked, glancing at Diana.
Diana's professional smile faded into a cold, calculating expression. "Investigate her. She might be involved in Sir James' death."
"But… I don't think the young master will cooperate," Albert said, his voice tinged with doubt.
"Fury's furious," Diana sighed. "You know he's blaming us because we weren't there when James was killed. We can't afford to take any more risks with Dave. If he dies, we're next."
Albert nodded gravely. "James Garcia was a generous investor in S.H.I.E.L.D., funding many of Fury's secret projects that he kept away from the World Council's oversight."
"Now that Sir James is dead, do you think Dave will be offered a place in S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Albert asked, his tone more curious than cautious.
"He will be," Diana replied firmly, her voice softening slightly. "But the real question is, will he accept?"
The two exchanged a glance before going their separate ways, each consumed by their own thoughts as they returned to their respective tasks.
Diana returned to her cabin, her mind heavy with suspicion. She quickly dialed Fury and relayed everything that had transpired with Dave, Trish, and Albert.
"Keep an eye on both of them," Fury's commanding voice came through the line. Diana nodded, ending the call.
"Trish and Albert… two suspects now," she muttered under her breath. A frown creased her face as she questioned herself, "But is Albert really a traitor?"
Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she recalled a distant memory, the one that defined her loyalty to the Garcias.
It was a cold night, and Diana, barely surviving as a beggar, had been shivering near a trash bin when she felt a sudden warmth drape over her. A coat. Startled, she looked up to see a man with kind eyes smiling down at her.
"How are you, little one?" he asked softly.
She instinctively shrank back, her heart racing. "Don't worry," the man continued, his voice soothing. "I mean you no harm." He crouched down to her level, offering his hand. "My name is James Garcia. What about you?"
"D-Diana," she whispered, something about his presence making her feel safe for the first time in what seemed like forever.
"A beautiful name," James said, still smiling. "It's a cold night. How about you come with me?"
He extended his hand, and without hesitation, she took it. The warmth and security she felt in that moment had been overwhelming.
"The best decision of my life," Diana murmured, tears slipping down her cheek as the memory replayed in her mind. "Yet I wasn't there when you needed me," she whispered, staring at her hands, which had once been held in comfort by James.
"I swore to protect you, but I failed…" Her voice cracked, but then her eyes hardened as she looked into the mirror in front of her, the reflection staring back was resolute. "But not with your son. I will keep him alive, even if it means I die in the process."