First Day

Marie woke to the soft hum of her alarm at six in the morning, the first rays of sunlight spilling through her curtains. As the sound echoed through the room, she blinked, momentarily disoriented, before a wide smile crept across her face. Today was the day. Her first day at Innovare, the job she had worked so hard to land. She had dreamed of this moment, and now it was finally here.

Sitting up in bed, Marie stretched, her heart racing with excitement. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor. Slowly, she walked over to her dresser, the excitement bubbling up inside her with each step. The mirror reflected her face, fresh with anticipation, and she couldn't help but smile at her own reflection.

"Today is going to be a good day," she whispered to herself, her voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking it aloud would make it real.

With a quick, satisfied nod to the mirror, she padded across her room and grabbed a fresh towel from the rack. The promise of a new beginning fueled her as she headed into the bathroom for a quick, refreshing shower. The hot water cascaded down her skin, washing away the sleep and filling her with renewed energy. As she rinsed her hair, her mind wandered to the day ahead—new colleagues, new challenges, and the sense of accomplishment she'd been craving.

By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, it was six-thirty. Wrapped in a towel, Marie moved with purpose, quickly dressing in a crisp white blouse and a pair of tailored black pants. She took one last glance in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric with nervous hands. After a moment, she took a deep breath, steadying her nerves.

"Let's do this," she whispered, her lips curling into a determined smile.

Downstairs, the smell of freshly cooked eggs and toast wafted through the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of brewed coffee. As Marie entered the dining room, she was greeted by the familiar sight of her older cousin Cynthia bustling around the kitchen, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. Gabo, Cynthia's husband, sat at the head of the table, the newspaper in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. He looked up from his reading as soon as Marie walked in.

"Well, look at you, all ready for your big day!" Gabo exclaimed, his warm smile stretching across his face. He raised his coffee mug in a mock toast. "Good luck with the new job, Marie. Innovare is lucky to have you."

Marie blushed slightly, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her. "Thanks, Gabo. I'm a bit nervous, but I'm excited, too."

"You'll be great," Gabo replied confidently, setting down the newspaper. "You've got that fire in you, always have. Just remember, you earned this. So go in there and show them what you're made of."

Cynthia turned from the stove, balancing a plate of golden pancakes in one hand. "He's right, you know. You've worked hard for this," she said, her eyes soft with pride. "We're so proud of you, Marie."

Marie's heart swelled as she sat down at the table. "Thanks, Cynthia," she said softly, reaching for the toast on the plate in front of her. "I really appreciate it."

As she spread butter on her toast, Cynthia sat down beside her, pouring herself a cup of coffee. The morning was calm, the kind of peaceful routine that grounded Marie, but today it felt different. She wasn't just starting a new job—she was stepping into a new chapter of her life.

Just as Marie was about to take her first bite, Cynthia spoke up again, her tone casual but with a hint of excitement. "Oh, by the way, don't forget—Mang Caloy is coming home tonight."

Marie froze, mid-bite, her eyes widening in surprise. "Mang Caloy? He's coming back?" Her voice rose with excitement as she placed the toast back on the plate, her heart now racing for a different reason.

"Yes, he called last night," Cynthia replied with a smile. "He'll be home around eight. So, if you can, come home early. He'll be happy to see you."

A broad grin spread across Marie's face. Mang Caloy had been a father figure to her for as long as she could remember, and the thought of seeing him after such a long time filled her with joy. "I'll definitely come home early!" she promised, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Cynthia laughed, shaking her head. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you."

"Same here," Marie replied, her mind already racing ahead to the evening. She couldn't wait to hear Mang Caloy's stories from his latest trip and catch up with him. But first, she had to get through her first day at Innovare.

She glanced at the clock and realized it was already time to go. She quickly finished her breakfast, grabbed her bag from the chair by the door, and made her way to the hallway. Gabo stood up, walking over to give her a quick pat on the back.

"Knock 'em dead, Marie. Just be yourself, and everything will fall into place," he said, his voice warm with encouragement.

"Thanks, Gabo," she replied with a grin. "I'll do my best."

Cynthia waved from the table, a knowing smile on her face. "Don't worry about anything. We'll have dinner ready when you get home."

Marie opened the door, the cool morning breeze brushing her face. As she stepped outside, she felt a surge of confidence rising within her. This was it—the start of something new, something exciting. And with the support of the people she loved behind her, she knew she was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Today is going to be a good day," Marie whispered to herself again, this time with more conviction, before walking down the path to begin her journey.

---

At eight in the morning, the streets were alive with the rush-hour frenzy—cars honking, buses packed, and people bustling about in their hurried routines. But for Marie, the chaotic energy of the city seemed distant. She had arrived early, standing in front of the towering Innovare building, the nerves bubbling inside her were quickly replaced with excitement. Her first day. Her new job. She felt a sense of pride as she glanced up at the sleek, glass-covered skyscraper, Innovare's logo gleaming in the morning light.

Clutching her bag, Marie took a deep breath, steadying herself. I'm ready for this, she thought. She had been dreaming of this opportunity, and now, here she was, standing at the threshold of a new beginning.

The lobby was still fairly quiet as Marie entered, its minimalist design a contrast to the bustling energy she knew would fill the building soon. She checked her watch—it was eight-thirty, still plenty of time before the official workday started. Her gaze flickered toward the entrance as the security guards began positioning themselves in front of the doors, a sign that the rush of employees would begin any moment.

As the clock ticked toward nine, the scene began to shift. Employees hurried through the lobby, exchanging greetings, some with coffee in hand, others typing furiously on their phones. The once-quiet space filled with the soft hum of footsteps and conversations, but Marie's attention was pulled toward the entrance once more as she noticed the guards suddenly standing at attention.

Then she saw her.

Jasmine Marino, CEO of Innovare, strode through the entrance with a presence that commanded respect. Dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, her confident steps were measured, her expression unreadable but powerful. Everyone knew Jasmine as a hardworking leader, someone who demanded the best from herself and others. She controlled her time, arriving when it suited her, but no one doubted her dedication.

Marie straightened instinctively, feeling a wave of nerves. She had heard so much about Jasmine—the stories of her efficiency, her leadership, and her no-nonsense approach to running the company. But to see her in person, the figurehead of Innovare, was another experience entirely.

Jasmine's gaze quickly found Marie standing near the lobby desk, and a slight smile curled at the corner of her lips. "Oh, I see that you're early," she remarked, her tone smooth but appreciative.

Marie's nerves briefly settled. She smiled back, determined to make a good impression. "It's my first day, so I thought I should be extra early."

Jasmine's smile widened, a flicker of approval in her eyes. "Good for you. I'm impressed," she said, her voice carrying the weight of someone who valued punctuality above all else. "I can often sense a person's attitude through how they respect time. And you, it seems, have a good start."

The compliment sent a surge of pride through Marie. She had worked hard to get here, and earning Jasmine's approval meant more than she could express.

"Come," Jasmine added, gesturing with a nod toward the hallway, "I'll take you to the HR department. There are some formalities we need to take care of."

Marie followed, her footsteps light but determined. Walking beside Jasmine felt like stepping into the future she had always envisioned for herself. They passed by employees who whispered quietly as they saw the CEO personally escorting a new hire. Marie noticed their curiosity, the way their eyes flicked toward her as if trying to discern who she was to warrant such attention.

Arriving at the HR office, Marie was greeted by the staff who quickly handed her an information sheet to fill out. As she sat at a small desk, filling in her details, she could feel Jasmine's presence lingering behind her, casually watching but also waiting. The HR employees exchanged astonished glances, clearly surprised to see the CEO herself taking such an interest in this process.

"Wow, who is she that Jasmine would actually wait for her?" one of the employees whispered from behind the desk.

Jasmine overheard the remark and turned, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "She's my new secretary," she said, her tone casual but definitive. "I've needed a secretary for a while, and I found one. So, I'll be orienting her personally."

The HR manager, equally intrigued, stepped forward. "Where will you be taking her after this, ma'am?" she asked, curious about the special treatment.

Jasmine looked down at Marie, then back at the manager. "I'll give her a tour of the IDEAS Compound. It's important that she understands how things run here."

Marie finished the paperwork, handed it back to the HR team, and stood up. Jasmine gave a slight nod of approval before turning on her heel and leading Marie out of the office. As they walked through the halls of Innovare, Marie found herself in awe of the modern architecture. The building had a sleek, minimalist style—glass walls, chrome finishes, and open spaces that seemed to radiate both power and innovation.

Jasmine walked slightly ahead, her voice calm as she began pointing out various features of the company. "This is the executive office wing," she said, motioning toward the corner where a large but unassuming office stood. "That's my office. Not as extravagant as some CEOs' offices, but I prefer simplicity."

Marie nodded, taking it all in. The subtle elegance of the space reflected Jasmine's personality—efficient, sharp, and powerful without being excessive.

As they moved further down the hall, Jasmine gestured toward a series of framed portraits hanging on the walls. "These are the previous CEOs of Innovare," she explained. "The first one is my father, Karl Marino. He was one of the founders of the company. He stepped down in 2026 to run for Congress. I didn't meet him until I was twenty."

Marie's curiosity piqued as Jasmine continued, pointing to the next portrait. "This is Antonio Flores. The directors entrusted him with running the company after my father left. He eventually joined my father as his legal counsel."

Jasmine then pointed to a picture of a woman. "That's my stepmother, Riko Marino. She oversaw the transition of IDEAS into the Penthouse Seven Group. Some of the directors didn't like her, said she didn't have enough experience, but she managed to hold her own."

As they continued down the hall, Jasmine provided more history—stories of power, influence, and family ties that stretched beyond Innovare into international business and politics. Marie listened intently, fascinated by the intricate web of connections that seemed to govern Innovare's past and present.

They paused in front of a section dedicated to the "Seven Sages," as Jasmine called them—figures of immense influence who had been both advisors and guardians to her father. Each sage had a unique background, ranging from martial arts masters to global political leaders, their portraits displayed with reverence.

Marie was captivated by the stories—each name, each portrait, each anecdote told a tale of power, loyalty, and sacrifice. But there was no mistaking that this company, this legacy, was still rooted deeply in the Marino family.

"Now," Jasmine said, finishing her tour with a smile, "I want you to meet the executives."

Marie felt a flutter of nerves as they walked toward the executive offices. As they entered, the staff turned, surprised to see Jasmine with a new face by her side. Marie felt the weight of their attention, but Jasmine's steady presence kept her calm.

"Everyone," Jasmine announced, her voice carrying across the room, "this is Marie, my new secretary. Please make her feel welcome."

The employees greeted Marie warmly, some offering handshakes, others simply nodding in acknowledgment. It was clear that Jasmine's introduction carried weight—Marie was no ordinary new hire.

After the introductions, Jasmine led Marie into her own office, a spacious, elegantly designed room with walls painted in a striking combination of blue and silver, representing Jasmine's personal dominance within the company. The portraits of Karl, Riko, and other Marino family members hung on the walls, adding a personal touch to the otherwise professional space.

"Now," Jasmine said, sitting down at her desk, "aside from handling my schedule, meetings, and daily tasks, you have one other responsibility." She leaned forward, her eyes sharp but kind. "I need you to keep an eye on my daughter, Amy."

Marie blinked, surprised by the request. "Amy? Is something wrong?"

Jasmine stood up and placed a reassuring hand on Marie's shoulder. "No, nothing dangerous. But I need someone I trust to keep tabs on her, make sure she's not getting into trouble. It's more about peace of mind."

Marie nodded slowly, still processing the request. "I can do that," she said, though her mind raced with questions.

"Good." Jasmine smiled warmly, sensing Marie's unease. "Don't worry. You'll get the hang of things."

Just then, the door to the office opened, and Jasmine's sister, Bianca, stepped inside. "I see it's your first day," she said to Marie with a grin.

Moments later, Amy Marino Montevista, Jasmine's daughter, walked in as well. Tall, beautiful, and confident, she exuded the effortless grace of someone born into privilege.

"Mom, are you coming home for dinner tonight?" Amy asked casually, her eyes bright with curiosity.

Jasmine leaned back in her chair, her expression softening. "Depends on the menu."

Amy grinned. "Paella, roast beef, and mango crepe. Laureen and I will be cooking."

Jasmine chuckled. "Sounds tempting. I'll be home by five. Make sure it's good."

Amy gave a quick nod and waved as she left the office, leaving Marie to reflect on the strange but exciting first day she had already experienced.

"Now," Jasmine said, turning back to Marie, "let's get to work. Your cubicle is right outside, and I'll be expecting you to start answering calls and managing my schedule. Think you're ready?"

Marie smiled, her nerves settling once more. "Absolutely."

As Marie settled into her cubicle, her new colleagues greeted her warmly, many expressing their surprise that Jasmine had taken such a personal interest in her. It felt good to be welcomed so openly.

"Wow, Jasmine rarely takes such an active role in onboarding new staff," one of the secretaries, Sheree, said with a grin. "You must've made quite the impression."

Marie laughed softly, feeling the warmth of their welcome. "I hope I can live up to it."

"Don't worry," Sheree added with a wink. "If Jasmine picked you, you're already halfway there."

Marie's first day continued with more introductions, training, and tasks, but as the hours passed, one thing became clear—she was exactly where she needed to be. And this was just the beginning.

---

It was six in the evening when Marie stepped out of the cab in front of the familiar gates of the Teodoro Residence. The sky had turned into a soft shade of twilight, with hues of purple and orange bleeding into the horizon. After a long day at Innovare, her body felt the fatigue of both excitement and exhaustion. She unlocked the gate, pushed it open, and walked inside. As she entered the living room, she dropped her bag on the floor and sank into the couch, slipping off her shoes with a sigh of relief. The quiet of the house and the comforting warmth of home began to soothe her tired muscles.

Moments later, the rumble of a vehicle approaching the gate broke the silence. Marie straightened up, her heart racing in anticipation. A large, black van pulled up in front of the house, its headlights cutting through the early evening dimness. The door of the van slid open, and there he was.

"Mang Caloy!" Marie exclaimed, springing to her feet. She rushed out of the house, the weariness of the day forgotten in an instant.

"Marie!" he greeted, his voice deep but full of warmth.

Without hesitation, Marie threw her arms around him, embracing him tightly. The smell of his familiar cologne brought a wave of nostalgia, and for a brief moment, it felt like time had rewound.

"How are you, my girl?" Mang Caloy asked, patting her back gently before pulling away to look at her with pride.

Marie beamed up at him. "I'm good, Mang Caloy! I've been working hard, and guess what? I finished my degree, just like I promised you!"

Mang Caloy's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's my Marie," he said, his voice filled with pride. "I knew you would."

Marie looped her arm through his, guiding him toward the house. "Come inside, dinner's ready! Cynthia's been cooking all day."

The two entered the house, where the smell of freshly cooked food filled the air. Cynthia and Gabo, who had been waiting in the dining room, stood to greet Mang Caloy as he entered. The dining table was set with a feast of homemade dishes—roast chicken, rice, steamed vegetables, and a fresh pot of soup.

"Welcome home, Mang Caloy," Cynthia said, smiling warmly as she placed the final dish on the table.

Gabo stepped forward and shook Mang Caloy's hand. "It's been too long," he added, his voice filled with warmth and respect.

Mang Caloy nodded and took a seat at the table. Marie eagerly sat down beside him, her excitement bubbling over as they began to serve themselves.

"So," Mang Caloy said, turning his attention to Marie as he filled his plate, "I heard you've started working at Innovare?"

"Yes!" Marie said, her eyes lighting up. "It's been amazing so far. My boss is the CEO herself—Jasmine Marino. She's been personally orienting me!"

Cynthia and Gabo exchanged glances, their eyebrows raised in surprise at this unexpected news.

"The CEO herself?" Gabo asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Marie nodded, practically glowing with enthusiasm. "She's incredible, honestly. I've learned so much already."

Mang Caloy chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes. "Jasmine Marino," he mused, leaning back in his chair. "I've heard of her. She's sharp, hardworking—just like her father. You'll learn a lot from her, Marie. Stick by her side and keep that dedication, and you'll go far."

Marie smiled, the encouragement filling her with renewed confidence. "I will, Mang Caloy," she promised, before diving into the meal, savoring every bite of the food that Cynthia had prepared.

The conversation at the table flowed easily, the warmth of family and good food wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As the meal went on, laughter echoed through the house, memories were shared, and for a while, everything felt perfectly at ease.

Later that night, after Marie had retired to her room and the house had fallen into a quiet lull, Gabo, Cynthia, and Mang Caloy gathered outside in the garden. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the lush greenery. They sat on the old wooden bench beneath the large mango tree, the air still and peaceful.

Mang Caloy stretched his legs out in front of him, his hands resting on his lap as he gazed up at the moon. There was a certain calmness to him, but both Gabo and Cynthia knew that beneath that calm exterior, Mang Caloy was always thinking ahead.

"It's been a while since you left this place," Gabo remarked, his voice low but steady. "A lot has happened in the underground since then."

Mang Caloy glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "I know," he said simply, his voice gravelly with age but still carrying the weight of authority.

Gabo leaned forward, his eyes scanning the garden as though checking for unwanted ears. "Do you happen to know Emilio Zenari?" he asked cautiously.

Mang Caloy's gaze sharpened. "Emilio Zenari?" he repeated, his tone growing colder. "I forced him out of business thirty years ago."

Gabo nodded, but there was more to tell. "He's back. He's been stirring up trouble recently."

Cynthia, who had been sitting quietly, leaned in, her brow furrowed. "What about Maxie Bogues and Pixie La Roca? Do those names ring a bell?"

Mang Caloy's lips tightened into a thin line. "Maxie and Pixie," he murmured, shaking his head. "I had them both imprisoned in the maximum-security prison up in the Arctic. But it doesn't surprise me if they've found a way out."

"They've been gathering allies," Gabo said, his voice tense. "All three of them—Zenari, Bogues, La Roca—are after you."

Mang Caloy sat still for a moment, processing the information. Then, to Gabo and Cynthia's surprise, he chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost amused. "I know," he said, leaning back on the bench. "I met all three of them in Tokyo a few months ago."

Gabo and Cynthia exchanged shocked glances. "What?" Cynthia blurted out. "What are you going to do now?"

Mang Caloy glanced at her, his expression calm but resolute. "I'm not going to do anything. Not yet."

Cynthia frowned, her anxiety growing. "But Mang Caloy, they're dangerous. If they're after you—"

"I know what they're capable of," Mang Caloy interrupted gently but firmly. "But I've dealt with men like them my whole life. I'm not afraid." He paused, stretching his arms out with a yawn. "When it's time to face them, I'll be ready. Either I die, or they do. It's as simple as that."

The matter-of-fact tone in his voice left Gabo and Cynthia speechless for a moment. Mang Caloy had always been a man who faced danger head-on, but hearing him speak so casually about his own possible death left a strange, heavy silence in the air.

Gabo cleared his throat. "And if they come sooner than you think?"

Mang Caloy stood up slowly, stretching his back as he looked toward the house. "Then we deal with it when the time comes. No point in worrying until they make their move."

With that, Mang Caloy gave them a reassuring nod before heading back into the house, leaving Gabo and Cynthia sitting quietly on the bench, their thoughts weighed down by the looming threat. They watched the old man walk away, and despite the uncertainty of the future, there was an unshakable confidence in the way Mang Caloy carried himself.

As they followed him inside to call it a night, Gabo couldn't help but feel that the storm was closer than anyone realized. But if Mang Caloy was worried, he didn't show it. And for now, that would have to be enough

—Chapter end—