Morning sun hits the Lu Holdings building like it's trying to expose every secret inside. The place is all glass and steel, a shiny fortress that screams money and power. To me, it's just a battlefield with better coffee.
I walk through the lobby, heels clicking on marble, feeling every eye on me—some curious, some scared, all judging. This isn't a workplace; it's a coliseum where reputations get slaughtered.
"Miss Xu," the receptionist says, way too polite, like she's afraid I'll bite. "Mr. Lu's waiting on the top floor."
"Course he is," I say, flashing a smile that's more teeth than warmth.
The executive floor's all hushed voices and espresso fumes, like wealth has its own static. The elevator doors slide open, and there she is—Zhou Yiran, the fiancée. Perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect pain in my ass.
"Miss Xu," she says, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Heard you're working for Shen. Ballsy move."
I match her smile, sharp enough to cut. "I figure men like him need a challenge. You get that, right?"
Her eyes flash, just for a second, before she pulls the mask back up. "Lu Holdings runs on loyalty," she says. "Hope you can keep up."
"Oh, I'm all about results," I say, soft but deadly. "We'll play nice, I'm sure."
Lu Shen's office is a power trip—glass desk, city view, like he's king of Haicheng. He's standing there, sleeves rolled up, tie loose, looking like he could ruin your life without breaking a sweat.
"Settling in?" he asks, not even looking at me.
"Like a charm," I say, leaning against the doorframe. "Just trying to figure out if this place runs on fear or blind obedience."
"Both," he says, turning now, eyes locking on mine. "Depends who's holding the whip."
I don't blink. "You think I'm here to wear one?"
His lips twitch, almost a smile. "I think you'll try to break it."
He tosses me a folder—a rebranding campaign for the company. "Impress me," he says, like it's a dare.
I skim it, then snap it shut. "This is lifeless. It's not about numbers—it's got no soul."
"Then give it one," he says. "You've got forty-eight hours."
"Twenty-four," I shoot back.
He raises an eyebrow, and I swear there's a flicker of something—amusement, maybe. "Big talk."
"Not talk," I say. "I don't do hope. I do results."
He studies me, the air crackling between us, then nods. "Twenty-four."
By afternoon, the whole building's buzzing. The new girl dared to cut the CEO's timeline in half. Good. Let them whisper.
In the glass conference room, I'm with a small creative team, guys who won't even look me in the eye. One of them mumbles, "Miss Xu, maybe we should—"
"Nope," I cut him off, not looking up from my sketches. "We stick to their playbook, we're just another forgettable ad. Predictable's how you end up irrelevant."
My pen's flying—slashing through mockups, rewriting slogans, tossing out anything that smells like safe. By midnight, the table's a graveyard of crumpled drafts and cold coffee. My eyes are burning, but there's a fire in my chest that won't quit.
The elevator dings, and Lu Shen steps in, jacket slung over his shoulder like he's not the most dangerous man in the room. "Still here?" he asks.
"Some of us work for our titles," I say, half-teasing, half-daring him to bite.
He stops by my desk, scanning my designs. Then, quiet, "You're better than I thought."
"Careful," I say, leaning back. "Expectations lead to disappointment."
Our eyes lock, and the air feels like it's about to spark. Then he notices the pearl ring on my finger. "Still wearing that?"
"It's a reminder," I say, voice low. "Of the girl who thought love could fix everything."
He doesn't say anything, just watches me, like he's seeing too much. It's not warm. It's not soft. But it's something.
The next morning, I walk into the boardroom and own it. My campaign's sharp, bold, real—it screams reinvention, and the directors eat it up, clapping like I just reinvented fire. Lu Shen? He just says one thing.
"Xu Lanying reports to me now. Effective immediately."
The room goes dead quiet. Zhou Yiran's gripping her pen so hard I'm surprised it doesn't snap.
I tilt my head, all calm. "Got it, Mr. Lu."
Our eyes meet, and we both know—this deal started way before we signed anything.
Power in Haicheng always comes with strings. I'm just learning to make mine look like silk.