The morning sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of ValeTech Tower, bouncing off glass desks and polished floors. The building seemed to hum with quiet energy — efficient, powerful, intimidating.
And right in the middle of it all stood Ivy Dawson, clutching a notebook like it was a shield.
Her first day.
She'd barely slept the night before, replaying every possible scenario in her head. What if she spilled coffee on his suit? What if she tripped again? Or worse — what if she made him laugh and got fired for it?
She adjusted her blazer, took a deep breath, and stepped into the CEO's private office.
Adrian Vale sat behind his desk, looking exactly as he had yesterday — calm, flawless, and distant. His silver watch glinted as he typed, his expression unreadable.
"Good morning, Mr. Vale," she said with a bright, polite smile.
He didn't look up. "You're two minutes early."
"I thought you'd appreciate that."
"I don't appreciate anything that interrupts my thoughts."
Ivy blinked. Well, that's new.
She walked to her desk beside the glass divider and started organizing her things. She had brought her own coffee mug — white with the words 'Keep Smiling' painted in cheerful gold letters. It looked out of place in the cold, monochrome office, but Ivy didn't care.
Adrian noticed it almost immediately. "You plan to keep that?"
"Yes, sir. It reminds me to stay positive."
"Optimism is often an expensive luxury," he murmured.
She glanced up. "Maybe. But it's free if you make it a habit."
He looked at her properly then, those gray eyes sharp and unreadable. For a moment, neither spoke. Then he returned to his laptop, though the corner of his mouth twitched — barely noticeable, but Ivy caught it.
She hid a smile. Progress.
---
By noon, she'd already handled two meetings, three phone calls, and an inbox full of emails she didn't understand but pretended she did. Working for Adrian Vale was like working next to a lightning storm — quiet one second, striking the next.
"Miss Dawson," he said suddenly, breaking her focus.
"Yes, Mr. Vale?"
"Bring me the quarterly finance report from the black folder on my desk."
She looked around, spotted two black folders, and hesitated. "This one?"
"The other one."
She switched. "This one?"
"Still the other one."
She frowned. "Are you sure there's not a third one you're secretly testing me with?"
That earned her a sharp exhale that almost sounded like a laugh. "Just bring the one labeled 'V-27.'"
When she handed it to him, their fingers brushed — a fleeting, accidental touch. But the static that jolted through Adrian's body startled him. He pulled back instantly, setting the file down too quickly.
"Sorry," Ivy said softly, blinking.
"Don't apologize for being careless," he muttered.
Her lips curved. "Then I'll say 'you're welcome' for the human interaction."
Adrian looked up sharply, and for the briefest second, he saw something in her eyes — something painfully familiar. Warmth. The same warmth his mother used to have when she tucked him in at night.
He dismissed the thought. "Focus on your work, Miss Dawson."
"Yes, sir," she said, suppressing a grin.
---
At lunch, Ivy sat alone in the break room, nibbling on her sandwich. Most employees were too intimidated to talk to the new girl who worked directly for the ice king. But she didn't mind.
She had a secret rule — smile at least once an hour, even if it's just at yourself.
When she returned to the office, Adrian was standing by the window, gazing out at the skyline. For the first time, he looked… tired. His hand rested on the glass, his reflection merging with the city beyond.
Ivy hesitated. "Long morning?"
He didn't answer immediately. "Long life."
She tilted her head. "You make it sound like you're eighty."
His lips curved faintly. "Sometimes I feel like it."
She took a few cautious steps closer. "You know, if you smiled a little more, people might stop calling you a machine."
He glanced at her, eyes narrowing. "Who says that?"
"Everyone," she admitted cheerfully.
He sighed. "And you?"
"Me?" She thought for a moment. "I think you're just someone who forgot how to enjoy things."
That statement hit him harder than she could have known. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. How could she see through him so easily?
"I didn't hire you for personal analysis," he said tightly.
She shrugged, smiling. "Then consider it free service."
Adrian turned back to his desk, trying to refocus, but his thoughts wouldn't cooperate. Every time she smiled, it was like a whisper in the part of his soul he thought was long gone.
---
The day ended faster than either of them realized. As Ivy packed up her things, Adrian finally said, "Miss Dawson."
She looked up. "Yes?"
He hesitated — which was rare. "You did well today."
Her face brightened. "Thank you, sir. I'll try not to spill anything tomorrow."
"Don't try," he said dryly. "Just don't."
"Got it." She grinned and waved as she left the office, her mug clutched tightly in one hand.
When the door closed, the silence returned — but it wasn't the same kind of silence Adrian was used to. It wasn't cold. It felt… alive.
He exhaled slowly and glanced at his reflection in the window. For a second, he almost didn't recognize himself. There was something different in his eyes — something he hadn't seen in years.
Hope.
He shook it off and reached for a file, trying to bury the thought. But his gaze fell on the small note she'd accidentally left on his desk.
It was a torn page from her notebook. In neat, curvy handwriting, it read:
> "Everyone deserves a reason to smile. Even you, Mr. Vale."
He stared at it for a long moment. Then, before he realized what he was doing, he slipped the note into his drawer — not the trash bin.
---
That night, as he lay awake in his penthouse, Adrian closed his eyes and tried to shut out the memory of her voice. But all he could hear was Ivy's laughter and the faint echo of something inside him whispering —
She's dangerous.
She's changing you.
He turned over, frustrated.
Outside, the city lights flickered against the glass walls, and somewhere in the distance, dawn began to h
int at tomorrow.
Adrian didn't know it yet — but his carefully built world of control was already beginning to crack.
And Ivy Dawson was the reason.