Elina stood across the street from the building, rain misting the air, her breath fogging slightly as she stared up.
The structure rose like a silent giant, glass and steel cutting into the gray European sky. It was modern, imposing, and beautiful in a way that felt cold rather than welcoming.
She checked the address again on her phone.
This was it.
Her scholarship internship.
She hadn't slept much the night before. Between her mother's coughing fits, Liam's anxious questions, and her own spiraling thoughts, sleep had felt like a luxury she couldn't afford. Still, she straightened her jacket, adjusted the strap of her backpack, and crossed the street.
This was her chance.
The revolving doors swept her inside.
The lobby was breathtaking, marble floors polished to a mirror shine, tall columns framing the space, and a wall of glass overlooking the city. People moved through the space with quiet efficiency, dressed in dark suits and confidence.
Elina instantly felt out of place.
She approached the reception desk.
"I'm here for the scholarship internship orientation," she said.
The receptionist scanned her name and handed her a badge. "You're on the twelfth floor. Elevators to your left."
"Thank you."
As Elina stepped into the elevator, her reflection stared back at her. She smoothed her hair, squared her shoulders, and took a steadying breath.
You belong here, she told herself, even though the words felt fragile.
The elevator doors opened to a busy floor buzzing with nervous energy.
Interns clustered in small groups, laughing softly, comparing universities, exchanging confident smiles. Elina took a seat near the back of the orientation room, keeping to herself.
She listened as a senior HR manager welcomed them.
"Romanov Industries is one of Europe's leading conglomerates," the woman said. "We operate in finance, infrastructure, technology, and global trade. Expectations here are high."
The name sent a strange ripple through Elina's chest.
Romanov.
She frowned slightly but pushed the thought away. Big company. Powerful family. That was all.
The orientation continued, rules, schedules, confidentiality agreements, strict conduct policies. One thing became clear very quickly: this company was not forgiving.
Mistakes were not tolerated.
Weakness was not rewarded.
During a short break, Elina wandered toward the windows. The city stretched below, trams weaving through streets, people hurrying along sidewalks, life unfolding without regard for boardrooms or balance sheets.
A woman beside her spoke quietly.
"They say the CEO just returned to the city."
Elina's ears pricked despite herself.
"Who?" another intern asked.
"Alex Romanov," the woman replied. "Apparently, everything changed when he came back. People say he's ruthless."
Elina stiffened.
The name landed like a weight in her stomach.
Romanov.
Her mind flashed unbidden to the near accident days earlier, the black car, the cold eyes, the man who had looked at her like she was an inconvenience.
No. It couldn't be the same person.
Romanov was a common surname.
Still, unease crept in.
The break ended, and interns were assigned departments. Elina was placed in research and analysis, a quiet role that suited her. She spent the afternoon reviewing reports, taking notes, and familiarizing herself with internal systems.
She worked hard. Focused.
This was not the place to draw attention.
As evening approached, she found herself alone at her desk, staring at a financial projection that didn't quite add up. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
She hesitated.
Interns weren't supposed to question models. Especially not on their first day.
But something felt wrong.
She wrote a note in her personal notebook instead, underlining the figures and circling assumptions. She would revisit it later, carefully.
When she finally left the building, the sky had darkened. The city lights flickered on, reflecting off the wet pavement.
She exhaled deeply as she stepped outside.
Her phone buzzed.
Liam: "How was it?"
She typed back quickly. "Big. Intimidating. But okay."
She didn't mention the name Romanov. Didn't mention the feeling that she had stepped into something much larger than herself.
She took the tram home, shoulders aching with exhaustion.
High above the city, in a quiet top-floor office she had not seen, a meeting stretched late into the night.
Documents lay spread across a dark table. Voices spoke in low tones.
"Intern intake went smoothly," a man reported. "No issues."
"Good," came the reply, calm, controlled, distant.
Alex Romanov leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the city below. He hadn't attended orientation. He never did. But the machine that was Romanov Industries continued to move exactly as he intended.
"Anything unusual?" he asked.
The man hesitated. "One intern raised a concern in her preliminary notes. Financial modeling. Labor impact."
Alex's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Name?"
"Elina Hart."
Something shifted.
The name stirred a memory, sharp words, rain, defiance burning in a woman's eyes.
Interesting.
"Leave it," Alex said after a moment. "We'll see how she performs."
The meeting continued, but his attention drifted.
Somewhere in the city, Elina Hart was walking home, unaware that she had already been noticed.
Elina reached her apartment exhausted.
The building was old, the stairwell dim, the smell of damp concrete familiar. She climbed the steps quietly, not wanting to wake the neighbors.
Inside, her mother slept on the couch, a blanket pulled up to her chin. Liam looked up from the table.
"You're late," he said softly.
"First day," Elina replied, forcing a smile. "Long."
She washed her hands, reheated leftovers, and sat beside him. They ate in companionable silence.
As night settled, Elina lay awake in her small bedroom, staring at the ceiling.
Romanov Industries.
Romanov.
She didn't know why the name unsettled her so deeply. All she knew was that this internship, this opportunity, felt like standing at the edge of something dangerous.
But she had no choice.
She would survive this too.
No matter who owned the shadows she had just stepped into.