✦ Elodie's Point of View ✦
This wasn't just an internship.
This wasn't just a boss.
And me… I wasn't ready.
I thought I had accepted a regular job—something to fill my vacation, earn a bit of pocket money, and add a line to my resume. But I was wrong.
You don't knock on Elias Varden's door by accident.
And once you step inside… there's no turning back.
---
I was standing there, frozen in front of that massive building, all glass and steel, like it had been pulled out of another world.
One breath, two, then three. I tried to steady my trembling hands.
I was either brave… or completely insane.
What had I been thinking, accepting this?
It wasn't even my idea.
Working for the biggest company in the city wasn't the kind of dream I clung to.
It was the kind of fantasy you admire from behind a glass window.
But today… I was about to step through it.
> Too late to back out now, Elodie.
I glanced at my reflection in the glass wall. A girl with long brown hair, tense shoulders, lips too dry to smile. Not very tall, not very confident either.
My name is Elodie William, 20 years old, second-year student at Lincroft University.
I'm the discreet type. Too quiet. Totally broke. And pretty unlucky.
No impressive circle of friends, no wildly active social media.
A noisy roommate, a bank account in critical condition, and a life that rarely follows the plan.
And yet, here I was, about to knock on the office of the great Elias Varden.
All because of Mathis. Handsome. Brilliant. Arrogant. A bit of a talker.
The kind of guy who walks into a room like he already owns it.
And me? He ignored me. Or worse—threw cutting remarks my way every time I spoke in class.
So when he came up to me that day without warning, I thought it was a joke.
"Looking for a job over the break?"
I froze.
It was the first time he'd spoken to me directly without sarcasm.
"Uh… yeah. I mean… if possible."
I should've lied. The mere fact that he knew made me feel vulnerable.
He smiled. Not a kind smile. More… amused.
"My uncle's looking for an assistant. Someone discreet."
He looked me up and down. I felt the judgment in his eyes—but also something else.
Like he expected me to refuse.
"Why me?"
"No idea. He just said: 'A girl with no ties. Not too smart. Not too dumb either.'
You tick all the boxes."
I should've walked away. I didn't.
"And your uncle, what does he do?"
"He runs Varden Industries. You've heard of it?"
My heart stopped.
Everyone knew Varden Industries. The most powerful, most untouchable company in the city.
He handed me a piece of paper. An address.
"Tomorrow, 9 a.m. Executive office. Say you're coming on my behalf."
I wanted to ask why he was doing this. Why me.
But he was already gone.
I stood at the entrance of this monster of glass and steel.
My reflection trembled on the surface, like my whole body was protesting.
I didn't belong here. I had nothing to offer.
But I had an appointment.
> "Looking for a job, right? My uncle needs an assistant. Take your shot."
I'd looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language.
And now… here I was. With a fake resume, a tight knot in my stomach, and only one goal: survive this interview.
The lobby was cold, impersonal, bathed in a heavy silence.
The receptionist, a stern woman with a perfect bun, barely glanced at me.
"Um… hello. Elodie William. I have an interview with Mr. Elias Varden."
She typed quickly on her keyboard without lifting her eyes.
"Top floor. Last door down the hall. You can go up."
She handed me a badge.
I took it with a quiet thank you and made my way to the elevator, my heart oddly calm.
I arrived at the top floor.
Silence. Thick carpet. Endless glass. The air smelled like money and power.
On the door: Elias Varden – General Management.
I breathed in. Once. Twice. Then I knocked.
"Come in," said a deep, calm voice from the other side.
I pushed the door open slowly and peeked inside.
And there he was. Behind a dark wood desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, focused on a file. He barely looked up.
So that was Elias Varden.
"Have a seat."
I stepped forward with small, hesitant steps and sat down stiffly.
I placed the folder on his desk with trembling fingers.
"Hello, Mr.… Elias… Varden. I'm Elodie William. A student at Lincroft University. Here's… um… my file. Complete. I think."
It was a disaster. I had no idea what I was doing.
He didn't answer right away.
He picked up the folder and flipped through it in silence.
My heart pounded in my chest.
My resume was far from impressive. Worse—it was partly fake.
I had embellished a few skills, added a made-up internship.
Why?
Because I had never done anything exceptional.
And because I never thought I'd end up here, in front of a man like him.
He slowly closed the folder.
Then finally lifted his eyes to meet mine.
And for the first time, I think he actually saw me.
His gaze locked onto me. Cold. Intense. Almost analytical.
As if he were trying to figure out who I was… and why I was here.
I clenched my knees. I didn't dare move.
I hadn't even opened my mouth when he said:
"This resume is fake."
The floor dropped from under me.
---
"I know who you are."
I stared at him, confused.
"You're here because of a recommendation… Mathis, right?"
"Uh… yes… yes," I replied.
"I don't usually hire people as favors.
I always choose them myself.
That's why you're here."
He stepped closer. Slowly.
"You're different. Unprepared. Unpolished. And yet… you came."
I didn't know if that was a compliment. Or if he expected an answer.
"What I'm offering is not a typical internship.
You'll work directly under my supervision.
My schedule. My rules."
I nodded, way too fast.
"Okay… I mean, if I get the position, of course."
He stared straight into my eyes.
"You've got it."
Joy spread through me… with a faint smile I couldn't suppress.
"But there's a condition, Elodie."
He pulled out a small notebook and scribbled something down.
"This position requires total availability. Flexible hours. Frequent travel. Absolute confidentiality.
I don't need just an employee.
I need someone who can adapt to my needs, without asking unnecessary questions."
I blinked. He wasn't speaking loudly. But each word hit hard.
"I… I don't understand…"
He looked up at me.
"This isn't a work contract, Miss William.
It's a temporary agreement.
If you perform, you stay.
If you talk too much… you're forgotten."
I didn't understand any of it.
All I knew was—I really needed the money.
"Come back tomorrow morning. Or don't. There won't be a reminder," he added.
I stood, a little dizzy.
"Mr. Varden…"
He looked up.
"Yes?"
"And if I say no?"
He calmly closed his notebook.
"Then you'll have crossed the door… without stepping through it."
---
I walked out without replying.
The silence of the hallway clashed sharply with the voice still echoing in my head.
No promises. No contract. Just a veiled invitation… or a warning.
The late afternoon wind hit me in the face as the automatic doors slid open.
I wasn't sure I understood what had just happened.
I only knew one thing:
If he had truly chosen me… it wasn't by chance.
And tomorrow…
I would have to decide whether I had the courage to return.