Hamr Industries' underground R&D facility was lit in harsh white, like an operating room.
Justin Hamr, dressed in an expensive custom suit, enthusiastically gestured at rows of military drones.
"Look at this, Ivan! Titanium alloy shells, advanced targeting systems, Gatling guns, micro-missiles—this is the future of warfare!"
Ivan Vanko stood in a gray prison uniform, hands in pockets, expression cold.
"Software?" he asked flatly.
Hamr hesitated. "Still optimizing. But the hardware is perfect!"
"Your team are idiots," Ivan cut in.
He tapped a keyboard. A robotic arm nearby glitched violently, bending a freshly mounted Gatling barrel with a shower of sparks.
"Garbage," Ivan said. "Not even equal to Stark's toys from ten years ago."
Hamr forced a smile.
"That's why I need you. Help perfect them. Money, won—whatever you want."
"I don't fix garbage," Ivan replied. "I build my own."
Hamr nodded quickly. "Anything you want. But I need those drones operational by the Expo closing ceremony. I want the world to see Hamr Industries crush Stark."
Ivan's lips curved faintly.
"I will give you software. But I will also build my own soldier."
Hamr didn't care about the hatred in Ivan's eyes.
He only cared about results.
---
Stark Tower – Top Floor
Tony Stark was casually throwing darts at a photo of Justin Hamr pinned to the wall. Hamr's forehead was already perforated beyond recognition.
The office door opened.
Pepper Potts entered, followed by a tall red-haired woman in a fitted professional suit.
"Tony, stop," Pepper sighed. "This is Natalie Rushman. She's transferring from legal as a notary consultant. Impressive credentials. Speaks multiple languages."
Tony turned.
"Wow," he whistled. "Legal? You should be in Hollywood."
"I prefer my current profession, Mr. Stark," Natalie replied smoothly.
Tony extended his hand. "Interested in boxing?"
She ignored the hand. "Not in my job description."
Pepper pinched her brow. "Tony!"
Before Tony could continue, the door opened again.
Levi walked in.
"Tony, your 'Arc Program' promotional proposal is a disaster," Levi said bluntly, dropping a file onto the desk.
Tony rolled his eyes—then suddenly smiled mischievously.
"Anthony! Perfect timing."
He draped an arm over Levi's shoulder.
"You're the second-largest shareholder and you don't even have a proper executive assistant. That's unacceptable."
Levi narrowed his eyes. "What are you planning?"
"I'm reassigning talent efficiently," Tony declared. "Natalie here is overqualified for . Too organized. You two are a better match."
Pepper's eyes widened. "Tony!"
But Levi had already looked at Natalie.
And she was looking at him.
For the first ti, sothing shifted behind her calm gaze.
Levi understood instantly.
Natasha Romanoff.
Nick Fury's operative.
Interesting.
"Very well," Levi said calmly.
He stepped forward and extended his hand.
"Anthony Chen. From now on, you'll serve as my personal executive assistant. Salary tripled."
Natasha paused for half a second—then shook his hand.
"Honored to work with you, Mr. Chen."
Her grip was soft—but Levi felt the subtle calluses at the base of her fingers.
Combat conditioning.
Natasha felt his hand too.
Warm. Steady.
No visible tension.
Dangerous n often felt like that.
Tony grinned triumphantly, satisfied he'd offloaded a complication.
Levi ignored him.
He picked up the rejected Arc Program file and handed it to Natasha.
"Your first assignnt."
She accepted it.
"I want a full forensic financial analysis of Hamr Industries over the past five years. Public filings, shell companies, offshore transactions, subsidiary equity structures. I want to know where every dollar went. Eight a.m. tomorrow."
Natasha's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.
That wasn't assistant work.
That was intelligence analysis.
He's testing .
"Understood," she replied evenly.
Levi placed a black, unmarked keycard on the desk.
"Your office is on the 88th floor. Private elevator from the underground garage."
Stark Tower officially had only 87 floors.
Natasha glanced at the card.
Another variable.
Levi walked toward the door, then paused.
"Welco to the team, Miss Rushman. I hope you can keep up."
He left.
Silence lingered.
Natasha looked at the file in her hands.
Then at the black keycard.
Her mission had just beco significantly more complicated.
Anthony Chen.
Who exactly are you?
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