On the drive over, Tony said casually while steering:
"Last time I said I'd let you check out my private jet, but I've been busy with the Mark II and just haven't had the time."
"A few days ago, I placed an order with Boeing for a custom jet. Once it's finished and delivered, it'll be sent to you."
"The design's similar to mine—I figured our tastes would align."
Smith was genuinely touched that Tony not only remembered but had gone out of his way to commission one.
"Similar, huh? You mean the cover girls too?"
Tony chuckled at the jab.
"Haha, what—jealous?"
Their banter continued until they arrived at the Disney Concert Hall, the venue for tonight's gala. Tony parked and stepped out. Smith got out from the passenger side and walked up beside him.
The valet, upon recognizing who had just arrived, immediately greeted them:
"Good evening, Mr. Stark."
"Evening, sir. Welcome to the gala."
Smith, not being a household name, clearly wasn't recognized. But Tony threw an arm around his shoulder and said:
"Smith Doyle, my brother from another mother."
He handed over the car keys and headed straight for the hall.
As Tony Stark entered, a wave of exclamations rippled through the crowd:
"Oh my God, it's Tony Stark!"
"He's even hotter in person!"
"Oh wow, who's that guy with him? He's seriously cool!"
"Is he the heir to some secretive mega-corp? Anyone know who he is?"
Obadiah Stane, who was giving an interview at the time, had no choice but to turn at the commotion. He immediately spotted Tony Stark and the unfamiliar man walking beside him—Smith Doyle.
Tony and Smith made their way through the crowd to where Obadiah stood.
"What kind of party is this—invite everyone but the host?"
Obadiah gave Tony a once-over, then glanced at Smith. He was clearly surprised Tony, who had been buried in his research lately, would show up here—and even more surprised he brought Smith Doyle along.
Obadiah had heard of Smith—Pepper Potts's movements and company expenditures were all under his radar. But he didn't dislike the man; after all, he had brought back a golden egg.
With a broad smile, Obadiah stepped forward:
"Well, well, look who's here. Quite the surprise."
He extended his hand to Smith and said warmly:
"Mr. Doyle, thank you for bringing Tony back. Stark Industries without Tony would be like the West without Jerusalem!"
Smith shook his hand and smiled.
"Tony's got a guardian angel on his shoulder. He would've made it back even without me."
Tony, noticing the media cameras clicking nonstop, turned to Obadiah:
"I'll see you inside."
And just like that, he walked off without hesitation.
Obadiah quickly followed, grabbing Tony's arm.
"Hey, hold on a sec, alright?"
"I think I've got the board convinced."
Tony replied calmly:
"Okay, got it."
"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Smith and I won't stay too long."
Relieved that Tony wasn't planning to make any big announcements tonight, Obadiah relaxed. But Smith's continued presence piqued his curiosity.
Sure, Smith had saved Tony—but knowing Tony, he wouldn't normally keep such close company afterward. Was there more to this?
———
Tony and Smith entered the charity gala's main hall without a single hitch. No staff member dared to ask Smith for an invitation—everyone knew this event was under Tony's name. He could bring one guest or a hundred; it wouldn't matter.
They made their way to the refreshment area, where all kinds of snacks and pastries were laid out. Nearby, chefs were grilling seafood and steak on demand.
Tony commented:
"The food's decent. Not as good as my personal chef's, but it'll do the job."
"Waiter, get me a drink."
Elsewhere in the hall, Agent Phil Coulson had been contemplating how to approach Pepper Potts for information when he heard a familiar voice. He turned toward the sound, slightly surprised—not by the sight of Tony Stark, but by who was with him: Smith Doyle.
This was unexpected.
Their intel indicated Tony and Smith hadn't been in touch for a month after the rescue, suggesting a strictly professional relationship. Nothing that would develop into friendship—especially given Tony's notoriously difficult personality.
But now?
Smith Doyle had become a person of interest, ranked even higher than Tony. Especially after Natasha—deep undercover—sent back a report that made HQ double down on its focus on him.
Coulson steadied himself. He wouldn't let this twist rattle him. On the contrary, this might be a chance to gather more intel—maybe even on the device in Tony's chest.
"Mr. Stark."
"Mr. Doyle."
Hearing someone call out to both of them, Tony turned in mild surprise. As far as he knew, no one here should recognize Smith.
"Oh? You know Smith?"
At that moment, Smith was happily shoveling food into his mouth, a detail Coulson quietly noted.
"I'm Agent Phil Coulson."
Tony, holding a glass of wine, thought for a moment before recognition dawned.
"Oh right, right. You're that guy from, uh..."
Pepper had mentioned a government agency once, but Tony hadn't paid much attention.
Coulson added:
"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."
—End of chapter—
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