Lena Luthor was a paradox. To everyone around her, she was a beacon of grace and kindness—a sharp intellect wrapped in a compassionate exterior. People adored her, trusted her, and admired the way she carried herself with elegance and empathy. She was the one people turned to for advice, for support, and for comfort.

Except with you.

To you, Lena was cold, distant, and unapproachable. It was as if there was a wall she had built, but only for you. Everyone else saw the charming CEO, the philanthropist, and the friend, but when it came to you, Lena seemed to freeze over. It had always been that way, and you never understood why.

Today, as you sat in the bustling conference room at L-Corp, you felt that familiar chill when she walked in. Lena greeted her employees warmly, flashing smiles and offering kind words to each person she passed. She made small talk with the team, laughed at jokes, and gave her undivided attention to everyone—except you.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling her presence loom behind you as she spoke to someone near your table. It wasn’t unusual for you to feel out of place around Lena. Every interaction, every glance, felt like a reminder that, to her, you were different. Less worthy of her attention. Or perhaps, in some ways, more dangerous to her.

As the meeting began, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Lena from across the table. Her emerald eyes were focused on the presentation, her posture poised, her every move calculated yet natural. You wished, not for the first time, that you could understand what it was about you that made her so guarded.

When the meeting ended, Lena dismissed everyone with her usual politeness, her smile still lingering as people left the room in groups. You gathered your notes and made your way toward the door, hoping to slip out without having to cross paths with her. But just as you were about to exit, Lena’s voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the air.

“Wait. Can I speak with you for a moment?”