The elevator doors slid open with a near-silent hiss, revealing a panorama of sleek glass, polished steel, and breathtaking views of the city waking up. Britney Carter tightened her grip on the strap of her well-worn leather satchel, its surface soft from years of use. It felt like an alien artifact in this sterile, luxurious environment. Breathe, she told herself. You earned this. Scholarship, summa cum laude, top of the class. You belong here.
Well, maybe not belonged, but she sure as hell had the right to be here. As a legal intern at Titan Global, one of the world's most powerful conglomerates, this was the first, crucial step on the ladder she intended to climb with her own two hands.
"Britney Carter? Intern for Legal?" a crisp voice inquired. A woman with a perfect blonde bun and a smile that didn't reach her eyes stood before her, tablet in hand.
"That's me," Britney replied, offering her most confident smile.
"I'm Stacy, from HR. Follow me. Your orientation was expedited. Mr. Klaus is reviewing the Anderson merger documents this morning, and the lead counsel wants the intern—that's you—to be on hand to fetch files and take notes. Consider it your baptism by fire."
Britney's heart did a little tap dance against her ribs. Klaus. Klaus Smith. The name was synonymous with power, wealth, and a ruthlessness that was legendary in the business world. The 28-year-old prodigy who hadn't just inherited Smith Enterprises but had quintupled its value, earning him the top spot on the Forbes list. He was known for his icy demeanor and an expectation of perfection that made seasoned executives break into a cold sweat.
She was led to a conference room adjacent to a massive corner office. The room was already filled with a handful of tense-looking lawyers, their expensive suits seeming to absorb the anxious energy. At the head of the table, an empty chair loomed like a throne.
Britney found a discreet spot against the back wall, pulling out her notebook and a reliable pen. She ignored the flickering glances of the other interns already seated, their expressions a mix of sympathy and 'better-you-than-me'.
A sudden drop in temperature seemed to hit the room a second before he did.
Klaus Smith entered without fanfare, yet his presence sucked all the air from the space. He was taller than she'd imagined, with broad shoulders that filled out his impeccably tailored dark suit. His hair was the colour of dark ash, his features sharp and unforgivingly handsome. But it was his eyes that arrested her—a piercing, glacial blue that scanned the room, missing nothing, and finding everything wanting.
The meeting began. It was a rapid-fire dissection of a multi-billion dollar merger agreement. Klaus's voice was low, calm, and utterly devoid of warmth. He fired questions, demanded clarifications, and pointed out flaws with surgical precision. One senior lawyer stammered over a clause about intellectual property rights.
"...the non-compete provision here is laughably weak. It's a gaping hole. Fix it," Klaus stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The lead counsel, a man named Mr. Higgins, nodded hastily. "Of course, Mr. Smith. We'll redraft immediately. It's just that Anderson's team was very resistant on this point—"
"Their resistance is not my problem. Their signature on a watertight contract is. Do I need to find a legal team that understands the meaning of the word 'watertight'?"
A deadly silence fell. Britney's mind raced. She'd studied the Anderson case last night, poring over the publicly available filings until her eyes burned. The clause was weak, but she'd also noticed why Anderson was pushing back. There was a precedent, a little-cited case from a decade ago, Apex Tech vs. Veridium, that could be used to strengthen the clause in a way that might be more palatable to Anderson, framing it as industry-standard protection rather than an aggressive overreach.
Her hand moved before her brain could fully caution it. She raised it slightly, her pen hovering in the air.
Mr. Higgins looked mortified. Klaus's icy gaze slowly tracked across the room and landed on her. The intensity of it felt like a physical weight.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Britney Carter. The new legal intern, sir," she said, hoping her voice didn't quiver.
"This is not a classroom. Do you have a relevant point, or are you just eager to introduce yourself?"
A few muffled snickers came from the other interns. Britney felt a flush creep up her neck, but she met his gaze steadily. "It's regarding the non-compete clause, sir. The case of Apex Tech vs. Veridium, 2012. The ruling established a framework for defining 'competitive activity' within a specific technological niche. If we mirror that language here, it strengthens our position by citing legal precedent, not just muscle. It might make Anderson's counsel more amenable, as it's a recognized standard."
The room went so quiet she could hear the hum of the air conditioning. Mr. Higgins looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.
Klaus stared at her for a long, unnerving moment. His expression was unreadable. "An intern," he stated flatly.
"She's... she's mistaken, Mr. Smith," Higgins blustered. "That case is not directly applicable—"
"Is it applicable?" Klaus interrupted, his eyes still locked on Britney.
"It is, sir," Britney said, her confidence growing. "The core technology in the Anderson merger is nearly identical to the patents disputed in Apex vs. Veridium. The precedent is clear."
Klaus finally broke his gaze, turning to his head of legal. "Check it."
Higgins fumbled with his tablet, his fingers shaking slightly. A minute ticked by, feeling like an hour. He cleared his throat. "It... it appears she is correct, Mr. Smith. The precedent could be leveraged."
Klaus didn't look surprised. He simply gave a curt nod. "Redraft it using that framework. And you," he said, turning back to Britney. His blue eyes appraised her, not with gratitude, but with a spark of cold curiosity, as if he'd found an unexpected and slightly interesting specimen under a microscope. "Don't just stand there. If you're smart enough to find the precedent, you're smart enough to draft the initial amendment. Have it on Higgins's desk in an hour."
Then, he turned back to the meeting as if nothing had happened. "Next item. The liability cap."
Britney slowly lowered her hand, her heart now hammering for a completely different reason. She had just corrected a senior partner in front of the most terrifyingly powerful man she'd ever met. And instead of being thrown out, she'd been given a task.
As she slipped out of the conference room to find a computer, she felt his gaze on her back for just a second longer than necessary. It wasn't warm. It wasn't friendly. But it was aware.
Klaus Smith, the king of his empire, had finally noticed someone new in his courtroom. And Britney Carter, the girl who had fought for everything she had, had just offered her first, unshakeable argument.