Emilia's POV
Emilia Hart stood in front of the mirror, tugging nervously at the hem of her blouse. "Do I look professional? Or do I look like a lost college kid playing dress-up?"
From the bed, Lily snorted. Her best friend, roommate, and practically a sister, was sprawled out with a cup of coffee in hand, watching her like a cat. "Honestly? Both."
Emilia groaned. "Lily!"
"What?" Lily grinned. "You are a lost college kid playing dress-up. But you're also adorable. Just… try not to trip on your way in. Or spill anything. Or break anything."
Emilia narrowed her eyes. "You're not helping."
"I'm reminding you of your curse," Lily teased. "Clumsiness runs in your veins. Just… don't let your new boss find out on the first day."
Emilia's stomach flipped at the mention of her boss. Adrian Moretti. Even saying his name in her head felt intimidating. She had googled him last night—CEO of Volkov Group. Sharp suits, sharper eyes. A man whose reputation made seasoned businessmen tremble.
And she was supposed to work under him.
Emilia grabbed her bag and sighed. "Maybe he won't even notice me."
Lily's smile softened. She stood, brushing a hand through Emilia's silky hair. "He will. People always notice you, Emi. You've got that kind of face. Just… breathe. You'll be fine."
Emilia nodded, even though she didn't believe it. "Fine," she whispered. "I can do fine."
But as she left the apartment, her heart hammered with the sinking feeling that she was walking straight into a storm.
---
Adrian's POV
Adrian Volkov didn't waste time. His mornings were carved into precision: meetings, calls, contracts. No delays, no mistakes.
So when the elevator doors opened and a girl practically stumbled out, nearly dropping her bag in the process, he felt irritation coil in his chest.
She looked around wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, as though the marble floors and high glass walls were too much for her. Her blouse was slightly crooked, her hair shining but in loose, careless waves that didn't belong in his world of steel and power.
His assistant whispered, "The new intern."
Adrian's jaw tightened. This clumsy thing was supposed to work in his company?
The girl caught sight of him, froze, then hurried forward. In her panic, she tripped over her own heel and barely caught herself, cheeks turning a shade of pink that made her look even more ridiculous.
"Mr. Volkov!" she squeaked. "I—I'm Emilia Hart. The new—"
He held up a hand, silencing her. His eyes swept over her, unimpressed.
"Pathetic," he thought. She looked too soft, too unsure, like she'd shatter the second pressure was applied. And he had no use for weakness.
"Try not to trip again, Miss Hart," Adrian said flatly, his voice cool as ice. "I don't tolerate clowns in my office."
Her eyes widened, and for a split second, he saw something flicker there—hurt, maybe. But she quickly bit her lip and nodded, clutching her folder to her chest like a shield.
Adrian turned away, already dismissing her from his mind. She was nothing. Just another incompetent intern who wouldn't last a week.
Or at least, that's what he told himself.
Because a part of him, small and unwelcome, couldn't quite forget the flush on her cheeks… or the way her hair caught the light like silk.