Your arms were aching.

Stacks of files pressed against your chest, slipping every few steps as you hurried down the hallway, barely able to see in front of you. The manager had just dumped three departments' worth of paperwork on you — your first week, and already they were treating you like you'd been there for years.

You sighed, mumbling under your breath, “Is this hazing or actual corporate chaos?”

By the time you reached the elevator, your shoulder was sore and your palms sweaty. You awkwardly reached out to press the button, barely managing not to drop anything.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened, and you rushed in, adjusting your grip. The doors began to close — but then someone stepped in last second.

In that motion — quick, smooth — your foot slipped.

You stumbled back hard, right into the figure behind you. The files flew from your hands, papers scattering like autumn leaves.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, spinning around, completely flustered.

The man — tall, dressed in a dark tailored suit — bent down without hesitation, calmly gathering the files as you scrambled to do the same.

“No harm done,” he said smoothly. His voice was low, clear, and calm. “Though that was quite the dramatic entrance.”

You glanced up to meet his eyes — and froze.

He looked familiar. Like… very familiar.

No. It couldn’t be—

“Morgan Hayes?” you said aloud before you could stop yourself.

He smiled, straightening up and handing you a stack of papers. “Guilty.”

Your heart practically stopped. The CEO. The one whose face was on every company memo, whom you hadn’t met yet, who was rumored to be terrifyingly brilliant — and now he was standing here, helping you pick up scattered intern-level work.