The Billionaire’s Virgin Intern

CHAPTER 1 Shen Ziya’s POV The towering skyline of Shanghai stretched endlessly above her, but none of the glittering buildings stole her breath the way this one did. Zhao Group. Fifty-eight floors of glass and steel. The kind of place that made people feel small even before they walked in. Shen Ziya stood across the street, hugging her thin coat around her. The early morning wind was bitter, the city already pulsing with the rhythm of taxis, horns, and hurried footsteps. But for her, time had slowed. Her stomach twisted with nerves. This was it. After years of scraping by — odd jobs, night shifts, studying under flickering hostel lights — she had made it here. An intern at Zhao Group, the most powerful conglomerate in China. She wasn’t anyone special. No rich father. No connections. Just a final-year university student with callused hands, a modest scholarship, and the kind of work ethic that only came from having no other choice. She took a deep breath, stepped off the curb, and walked toward the building. Inside, everything was marble and metal and silence. Even the air smelled rich — like polished wood and something faintly citrus. Her reflection caught in the glass wall behind the reception: tall, lean, dark eyes wide with anxious focus, lips pressed into a firm line. Her black trousers were ironed with care. Her blouse had been borrowed from her roommate. And her heels? A bit too tight. But she walked like they belonged to her. She had learned long ago — if you act like you belong, people hesitate to tell you otherwise. The HR coordinator met her with a clipped smile and handed her a lanyard with the intern badge. “Executive floor interns assist with document prep, printing, scheduling — whatever’s needed. You’ll report to Miss Yan on 31st floor today,” the woman said. Ziya nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She could handle that. Print. Copy. Smile. Stay invisible. But things didn’t go as planned. It was just before lunch when the chaos began. A few secretaries were whispering in hurried tones near the printer. Ziya had stepped in to help unjam the machine when she heard her name. “Shen Ziya.” She turned. Miss Yan looked agitated. “Mr. Zhao’s personal assistant is on sick leave, and none of the other girls are willing to step in.” Ziya blinked. “Step in for who?” “For him.” Miss Yan’s voice dropped. “Zhao Liyan. The CEO.” Everything inside Ziya froze. “Me?” Her voice was barely audible. “You’re just an intern,” Miss Yan hissed. “You won’t be expected to talk. Just stand by in case he needs files or coffee. Do not speak unless spoken to. And don’t touch anything unless instructed. Understood?” Ziya swallowed. Nodded. She didn’t want to do it, but she couldn’t afford to say no. Her knees felt weak as she entered the elevator. The chrome walls reflected a hundred versions of her nervous face. Everyone knew about Zhao Liyan. He was brilliant. Untouchable. Cold. A man who didn’t let women near him. He wasn’t just private — he was known for refusing to be in the same elevator with any female staff. Rumors said he had a strange aversion to touch, especially from women. No one knew why. Several female secretaries had been fired for simply trying to place a report on his desk. As the elevator climbed past floor after floor, Ziya’s chest tightened. What if she messed up? What if he screamed at her? What if he fired her? The doors opened to the 58th floor with a soft chime. Silence. No open cubicles. No sounds of typing. Just one long corridor of frosted glass walls and gold light. Ziya stepped forward. Her heels echoed faintly with each step. At the very end was a single door, matte black, with a golden nameplate that shimmered like it didn’t belong in the same universe as her: Zhao Liyan – Chairman & CEO She paused at the door. Swallowed. Knocked once. No response. Carefully, she pushed it open. He stood near the window, back turned to her, tall and still. The view behind him was unreal — skyscrapers like blades of glass, clouds almost close enough to touch. His suit was pitch black, tailored to perfection, broad shoulders sharp and rigid. His hands were tucked in his pockets like he owned the city. Because he did. Ziya stayed by the door, unsure if he even knew she was there. And then— “Bring me the acquisition file.” His voice was deep. Calm. Sharp enough to cut through glass. She startled, stepping in. “Yes… sir.” The folders she carried were neatly labeled. Her fingers found the correct one: M&A Q3 Report. She approached slowly, heart thundering, and held the file out. He turned. It was the first time she saw his face. And it hit her like a blow. He was… unreal. Smooth, sculpted jawline. High cheekbones. Eyes so dark they seemed endless. But what startled her most wasn’t his beauty — it was his eyes locking on her like he wasn’t expecting to see a person. Like he was expecting to feel something else. Then, it happened. Their hands brushed. Just a soft graze of her fingers against his as he took the file. Ziya felt it — a warm jolt like static, but deeper. Stranger. But when her eyes flicked up… he was staring at their hands. Frozen. Not disgusted. Not recoiling. Still. Wide-eyed. Breath caught. She pulled back instantly. “S-sorry—!” He didn’t say anything. His gaze slowly rose to her face. And for the first time, Shen Ziya saw confusion in a man otherwise known for stone. “What’s your name?” he asked, quiet. She blinked. “Shen… Shen Ziya.” A pause. His jaw clenched. Then he turned away. “You’ll assist with the board prep this week. Wait outside. I’ll call if I need you.” Ziya stumbled out of the room, her breath short, legs shaky. What just happened? Why didn’t he flinch away like the stories said? Why was her heart still racing? And why did she feel like her name had left an echo in that office — one that Zhao Liyan wasn’t going to forget? Let me know if you’re ready for Chapter 2, Shall we keep going?