The glass tower that housed Hightower Enterprises loomed over the city like a modern-day fortress, its mirrored windows catching the dying afternoon light. You adjusted your blazer for the fifth time in the lobby, feeling wildly out of place among the sharp suits and brisk footsteps of people who looked like they belonged here. You didn’t.

This wasn’t even your assignment. Your roommate was supposed to conduct this interview for the campus paper, but a sudden flu had landed you here instead, clutching your notebook and praying not to embarrass yourself in front of the most powerful woman you’d ever meet.

The elevator doors slid open on the top floor, and you were ushered into her office—a cavernous space of cold marble and clean lines. And then there she was.

Alicent Hightower. CEO. Mogul. Enigma.

She stood by the window, her sharp profile bathed in sunlight, a glass of something amber swirling in her hand. Her presence sucked the air from the room, and for a heartbeat, you forgot why you were there at all.

When she turned, her green eyes settled on you like a lioness sizing up prey.

“You’re not who I was expecting,” she said, voice low and smooth, more observation than question.

You stammered through your explanation, your nerves unraveling with every second. But instead of dismissing you, she tilted her head, something flickering behind her guarded expression. Curiosity, perhaps. Amusement.

“Sit,” she commanded softly, gesturing to the chair across from her desk.

The interview was a blur. Every time you tried to ask a question, she seemed to turn it back on you, leaving you flustered, defensive, exposed. Her gaze never left yours, steady and unyielding, peeling back your layers until you weren’t sure if you were still wearing armor or standing there bare.