The soft hum of fluorescent lights was usually Snow White's favorite lullaby. Her office, nestled on the third floor of a quaint, red-brick building, was her sanctuary. Wires snaked across desks, monitors glowed with lines of elegant code, and the faint scent of lavender – from the experimental organic beauty product her team was perfecting – hung in the air. This was where she thrived, surrounded by her seven loyal developers, affectionately dubbed her "Dwarves." They were a motley crew, fiercely protective of her, and equally dedicated to EdenTech, her blossoming startup.
"You really have to go, Snow," Bashful, the youngest and most earnest of her team, pleaded, pushing a small, crumpled envelope across her desk. "Your Aunt Rose called again. She said your father was very insistent about this one."
Snow sighed, running a hand through her raven hair. "A blind date, Bashful? You know how I feel about 'dates.' Especially orchestrated ones. They always end up... messy." The word "messy" was an understatement for the corporate betrayal that had nearly shattered her years ago, a wound still subtly poisoning her perception of the outside world. It was why she lived like a hermit, preferring the company of algorithms to arrogant executives.
"But this one's different!" Dopey, ever the optimist, chirped. "Aunt Rose said he's 'a very important man.' Maybe he's a tech genius who'll invest in EdenTech!"
Snow just hummed, unconvinced. An important man usually meant a man with a bloated ego and shark-like ambition. Exactly what she'd escaped. Still, the thought of disappointing her well-meaning aunt and the looming presence of her own father's expectations was enough to make her reconsider. "Fine," she relented, picking up the envelope. "One hour. No more."
Across the city, in a skyscraper that kissed the clouds, Prince "Charming" Andreas stared out his panoramic window, the sprawling metropolis a miniature landscape beneath him. His office was a testament to his power – minimalist, stark, and utterly devoid of personal touches. He ran Charm Global, a conglomerate so vast it touched every facet of modern life, from finance to luxury goods. He was the undisputed king of his empire, but tonight, even he couldn't escape his father's decree.
"The reservation is confirmed, Mr. Andreas," his stoic assistant, Mr. Grumpy, announced, his voice devoid of inflection. "At 'The Gilded Spoon.' Table by the fountain."
Andreas merely grunted. Another blind date. Another tedious evening of forced smiles and thinly veiled attempts to secure a merger or a marriage. He'd long ago given up on finding anything genuine. Work was his mistress, his passion, his life. Love, in his experience, was just another transaction. The constant pressure from his father to secure a suitable match, to expand the family's influence through marriage, was a familiar burden.
He adjusted the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit. He had no illusions about how women saw him – as a prize, a conquest. He'd learned to deflect, to intimidate, to keep everyone at arm's length. Tonight would be no different. He'd endure the required pleasantries, make his excuses, and be back to his spreadsheets before midnight. Or so he thought.