chapter 2
1072 Words
The Vexmor Corporation headquarters towered over the city like a monument to wealth and ambition. Mia tilted her head back as the SUV slowed in front of the main entrance. She had seen photos of the building when her sister showed her fan art and Pinterest boards—but seeing it in person, in this new reality, was something else entirely.
Polished black glass. Ten-meter-high steel-framed doors. A rotating gold “V” logo hovering above the lobby entrance.
Mia swallowed. “Okay. Deep breath. You're Selene now. Just… fake it until you make it.”
The driver stepped out and opened her door. “Have a good day, Miss Ashford.”
She gave him a weak smile and a nod before stepping onto the marble curb. Immediately, a gust of wind blew her hair across her face. She fought it back with one hand and marched forward, trying to walk like she belonged—even if the heels were slowly murdering her.
Inside, the lobby was a sea of black, gray, and navy suits. People moved like clockwork—phones pressed to ears, ID badges flashing at security, sharp heels clicking against the floors in sync. Everything screamed precision, money, and power.
Mia stepped forward and tapped her ID card at the security gate. For one terrifying second, it blinked red.
“Invalid—”
Beep! It turned green.
She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“Come on, Mia. Get it together,” she muttered under her breath.
“Talking to yourself this early in the morning?” a voice asked from her right.
She turned.
A woman in her late twenties stood beside her, holding a coffee cup and a file folder. Her sharp bob cut and wine-red lipstick matched her irritated expression.
“You must be hungover,” the woman continued, eyeing Mia’s blouse. “You’re wrinkled. Again.”
“Um… sorry?” Mia offered weakly.
The woman narrowed her eyes. “You don’t even remember me, do you?”
Mia’s heart sank. Oh no. A co-worker. A cranky one.
“I’m Kara. PR division. We literally sit across from each other.” Kara scoffed, walking past her toward the elevator bank. “Whatever. Not surprised. You always zone out during meetings.”
Mia followed awkwardly, pressing the button to the 27th floor as Kara stepped in beside her.
“So,” Kara said, sipping her coffee. “Did you forget about the 9 AM presentation, too?”
Mia blinked. “Presentation?”
Kara smirked. “Figures.”
The elevator dinged.
Mia followed the flow of sharply dressed employees out into the wide, elegant space of the PR department. Sleek white desks with glass partitions stretched across the floor, each one equipped with dual monitors and paper-thin tablets. Everyone looked busy. Everyone looked like they belonged.
She spotted a desk with a nameplate: Selene Ashford.
Home base.
She made her way toward it, trying to ignore the curious glances and whispers around her.
“She’s late again.”
“Third time this month.”
“Maybe she thinks she’s special?”
Mia sat down and glanced at the files on her desk. Her eyes widened.
Charts. Presentation slides. Names and dates. This was not high school PowerPoint stuff—this looked like real-world, corporate-level stress.
“Okay,” she muttered, flipping through the materials. “Maybe Selene wasn’t just a side character. Maybe she was competent. That’s... new.”
A window on her screen blinked open. An internal message.
From: D. Vexmor
Subject: 9 AM Status Review – Conference Room A
It was short. Cold. No greeting. No signature.
Mia winced. “So he really is as charming as the book described.”
Kara appeared beside her again, now with a second folder. “You coming, or are you planning to bomb this meeting solo?”
“I—I’m coming.”
Mia stood quickly, nearly tripping over her chair leg.
Kara rolled her eyes. “You okay? You seem... off.”
“Just a bad dream,” Mia said before she could stop herself.
Kara gave her a strange look but said nothing.
---
The conference room was already half full when they arrived. A long, rectangular glass table dominated the space, and Drake Vexmor sat at the head of it like a king on a throne—suit perfect, expression unreadable, eyes focused on a tablet in his hand.
Mia's breath caught in her throat.
There he was.
The male lead of her sister’s favorite novel. And now her boss.
In the book, he had always been described as cold, ruthless, devastatingly handsome. Up close, he was all three. Raven-black hair neatly slicked back, sharp cheekbones, and intense gray eyes that could probably see straight into her soul.
He didn’t look up as she entered.
“Sit,” he said.
She slid into a seat near the middle, trying to avoid eye contact.
One by one, team members reported on their respective projects. Kara gave a flawless presentation about a new investor pitch. Someone else presented numbers about digital engagement.
And then—
“Selene.”
Her heart stopped.
Drake’s voice was low. Commanding. Like it didn’t ask—it expected.
Mia looked down at her notes, panic bubbling inside her. She had no idea what the project was about. No memory. No prep time.
Think. Think.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, sir. Um…”
She skimmed the top of the report. Corporate rebranding. Q3 outreach. Demographics.
“The rebranding project is on schedule,” she began, praying it sounded believable. “We’re refining the messaging to better resonate with our younger target audience, especially Gen Z. Initial test campaigns show a twelve percent increase in click-through rates compared to last quarter.”
The room was silent.
Then Drake spoke. “And what about the budget? Is the current allocation enough for the expansion phase?”
Expansion phase?!
“Yes,” she blurted. “We’ve trimmed unnecessary ad placements and restructured the timeline to make room for content-driven engagement strategies instead of relying purely on sponsored posts.”
She didn’t know where it came from. Maybe it was Mia's own real-life college brain kicking in. Maybe she was bluffing well. Either way, the response was met with a nod.
No compliments. No further questions.
But he didn’t correct her.
The meeting moved on.
Mia sank into her seat, sweaty but still alive.
- Writer
