Lena Thompson stepped off the elevator, her heart thudding in her chest and her palms damp. Today wasn't just any first day—this was the beginning of her dream internship at Stratton & Co., the luxury fashion house everyone in her field dreamed about. She'd made it in. But standing there, she couldn't shake the feeling that she might be out of her depth.
The lobby gleamed with glass, chrome, and marble, the chandeliers scattering light like diamonds across the floor. Eleven other interns clustered in the space, some whispering nervously, others staring around as if trying to memorize the grandeur. They were talented, chosen from thousands of applicants. Still, none of that mattered now. What mattered was what came next.
A woman in a sharp black blazer stepped out from behind a frosted glass door, papers tucked neatly in her hands.
"Good morning, everyone. Welcome to Stratton & Co.," she said, her voice calm and commanding. "You've already been selected. Today marks the beginning of your journey here." Her gaze swept over the group before she continued. "Each of you will be paired with one of our board members. The board of directors will each choose one of you to shadow for the duration of your internship. When I call your name, you'll draw a number from this bowl. That number corresponds to the director you'll work with. No changes will be made. This ensures fairness."
Her expression sharpened. "Confidentiality is non-negotiable. What you see, hear, and contribute here never leaves these walls."
A cold shiver ran down Lena's spine. Privacy. The word hung heavy, as though the company's secrets were more dangerous than designs.
One by one, interns stepped forward to pull slips from the bowl. The room thickened with tension. Lena's fingers trembled as she reached in. Just a number, she told herself. Just a number deciding her fate.
She unfolded her slip and froze. Twelve.
Her breath hitched. Of all numbers, it was the one echoing in her head since she'd walked in. Slowly, she looked up.
And there he was. Lucas Stratton.
The CEO.
His dark eyes found hers across the room, and for a split second, the world fell away. He smiled, not the cold, practiced smile of a billionaire, but something warmer. Genuine. Inviting. Her pulse stumbled.
"Miss Thompson?" the woman's voice yanked her back.
Lena forced her legs forward, though they felt liquid, each step pounding in her ears.
"Congratulations. You've been paired with Mr. Stratton," the woman announced.
Lucas's smile deepened as she approached. He extended his hand.
"Welcome aboard, Miss Thompson," he said, voice smooth and warm.
"Th-thank you, Mr. Stratton," she stammered, sliding her hand into his. His grip was steady, his gaze unreadable, yet charged.
What had she walked into? Her heart thrashed, caught between fear and something she didn't dare name.
Lucas turned back to the group, his voice cutting through the air: "Let's get started. You'll all follow me."
As the interns paired off, Lena followed close behind, stealing one last glance at him. Confident, magnetic, impossibly composed.
This was going to be one hell of a ride.