The apartment was quiet.

Not the comforting kind of quiet.

It was the kind that settled into the walls, filled every room, and lingered long after voices had disappeared.

Morning light filtered through the cream-colored curtains, casting warm streaks across the wooden floor. Dust floated lazily through the air, dancing in the sunlight as though time itself had slowed inside the small apartment.

It was a beautiful place.

Not luxurious.

Not modern.

Just... loved.

Every corner carried memories.

A faded sofa where movie nights had once lasted until midnight.

A bookshelf overflowing with novels her mother had collected over the years.

A dining table with four chairs that now seated only one.

Family photographs still decorated the walls exactly as they had years ago.

Nothing had changed.

Iris Bennett had made sure of that.

She liked pretending that if everything stayed the same...

Maybe a part of them had never really left.

She stood barefoot in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to whistle.

The silence wrapped around her like an old blanket.

She wasn't lonely anymore.

Loneliness had become familiar.

She poured hot water into her favorite chipped mug—the one with tiny blue flowers painted around the rim. Her father had bought it during a weekend market years ago because she'd insisted it looked "happy."

It still did.

A faint smile touched her lips.

"Good morning," she whispered toward the framed photograph resting on the kitchen counter.

Her parents smiled back from behind the glass.

For a brief moment...

The apartment didn't feel so empty.

"I have my first day today."

She laughed awkwardly at herself.

"I'm... talking to a picture again."

Her fingers gently brushed away a speck of dust from the frame.

"I wish you were here."

Silence answered.

It always did.

...

Breakfast was simple.

Toast.

A boiled egg.

Tea.

She wasn't very good at cooking, but she'd learned enough over the years to take care of herself.

After washing the dishes immediately—because leaving them in the sink made her strangely anxious—she walked toward her bedroom.

Neatly folded clothes covered the bed.

She had spent almost an hour deciding what to wear.

Too formal?

Too casual?

Too bright?

Too plain?

She finally settled on a crisp white blouse tucked into a black knee-length skirt with a light beige cardigan.

Professional.

Simple.

Invisible.

Invisible felt safe.

She stood before the mirror.

Dark brown hair fell softly over her shoulders.

Her eyes looked tired despite sleeping well.

Nervousness always stole the color from her face.

She reached for the small bottle of migraine medicine on her bedside table.

Just in case.

She slipped it into her bag beside her sketchbook, headphones, wallet, charger, and a tiny notebook where she wrote reminders whenever anxiety made her forget things.

She checked the notebook one last time.

• Phone ✔

• Wallet ✔

• ID ✔

• Medicine ✔

• Office documents ✔

• Don't forget to breathe.

That last reminder made her smile.

"I can do this."

Her voice sounded uncertain.

She tried again.

"I can do this."

Better.

Not convincing.

But better.

...

The apartment was hers.

It had belonged to her parents.

After everything that happened, it became the only place in the world that still felt familiar.

She didn't have to worry about rent.

She was grateful for that every single day.

But life was never free.

Electricity bills.

Water.

Internet.

Building maintenance fees.

Groceries.

Transportation.

The savings her parents had left behind had slowly disappeared over the years.

She had tried earning money from home by taking small freelance graphic design jobs online.

Some months were enough.

Most weren't.

When Volkov Industries announced an opening for a junior graphic designer, she almost ignored it.

A company that large...

People that important...

It sounded terrifying.

But the salary could finally give her stability.

So she applied.

To her complete surprise...

They accepted.

Today was her first day.

And she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

...

She glanced at the clock.

8:02 a.m.

Her bus would arrive in thirty minutes.

Her stomach twisted.

Too many people.

Too many strangers.

Too many conversations she didn't know how to have.

Her breathing became shallow.

No.

Not today.

Please...

Not today.

She closed her eyes and counted slowly.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

By ten, the tightness in her chest eased just enough for her to breathe normally again.

Progress.

Small.

But progress.

She picked up her backpack.

It felt heavier than it actually was.

As she walked toward the entrance, her eyes landed on another family photograph hanging near the door.

It had been taken years ago during autumn.

Her mother was laughing.

Her father had an arm around both of them.

Sixteen-year-old Iris stood between them with messy hair and an embarrassed smile because she'd hated having her picture taken.

She reached up and gently straightened the frame.

"I'll come home later," she whispered.

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Home.

This apartment had always been home.

No matter how frightening the world outside became.

No matter how many years passed.

This place waited for her.

Always.

She slipped on her sneakers.

Picked up her keys.

Then accidentally dropped them.

"...Of course."

The keys clattered loudly against the wooden floor.

She crouched to pick them up...

Only to bump her forehead against the shoe cabinet.

"Ouch..."

She rubbed the sore spot and sighed dramatically.

"Great start, Iris."

If anyone had seen her, they probably would've laughed.

Fortunately...

No one ever did.

She finally unlocked the front door.

The hallway outside stretched before her.

It wasn't very long.

Just a narrow corridor with cream walls and neatly numbered apartment doors.

Yet somehow...

It looked enormous.

She couldn't move.

Her hand tightened around the doorknob.

The sounds drifting from distant apartments—footsteps, doors opening, someone talking on the phone—felt unbearably loud.

Her heartbeat echoed inside her ears.

She stared at the hallway.

The hallway stared back.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Thirty.

A full minute passed.

"I'm okay," she whispered.

"You've done harder things."

Had she?

She wasn't sure.

But standing here forever wasn't an option.

She thought about the unpaid maintenance bill sitting neatly on the kitchen counter.

The nearly empty refrigerator.

The emails reminding her to confirm her employment.

She needed this job.

Not because she wanted a glamorous career.

Not because she dreamed of working for one of the country's biggest companies.

Simply because she wanted to keep living in the only home her parents had left behind.

Taking one deep breath...

Then another...

She stepped across the doorway.

The apartment door clicked shut behind her.

For the first time in what felt like forever...

Iris Bennett didn't look back.

She tightened her grip on her backpack straps and walked toward the elevator, every step uncertain but determined.

She was terrified.

She was overwhelmed.

She wanted to turn around at least a dozen times before reaching the end of the hallway.

But she kept walking.

Because sometimes courage wasn't the absence of fear.

Sometimes...

It was simply choosing to move despite it.

And somewhere across the city, in a glass tower that touched the morning sky, Alexander Volkov was beginning another ordinary workday..

A cool breeze greeted Iris the moment she stepped out of the apartment building.

She stopped.

It had been... a long time.

The morning air smelled of fresh coffee from a nearby café, damp pavement from last night's rain, and blooming flowers planted along the sidewalk. Cars passed one after another, their engines blending with distant conversations and the occasional bark of a dog.

Life.

The city had never stopped moving.

Only she had.

She adjusted the strap of her backpack and looked both ways before carefully walking toward the bus stop.

People.

There were so many people.

Office workers rushed past with coffee cups in hand, students laughed as they crossed the street, cyclists wove between traffic, and delivery vans came and went without pause.

No one noticed her.

No one cared that she was nervous.

That realization was strangely comforting.

Maybe...

Maybe the world wasn't watching her as closely as she had always imagined.

She reached the bus stop five minutes early.

There were already twelve people waiting.

Too many.

Without thinking, she quietly stood at the very end of the line, leaving a little more space between herself and everyone else.

She lowered her eyes and hugged her backpack to her chest.

A little boy standing beside his mother looked up at her curiously.

"Mom..."

The woman smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry."

Iris quickly shook her head.

"It's okay."

The little boy continued staring.

"You look sad."

His words caught her off guard.

She blinked.

"Do I?"

He nodded seriously.

"You should smile."

Before she could answer, the bus arrived with a loud hiss.

Everyone began boarding.

The crowd moved all at once.

Too fast.

Too close.

Someone accidentally bumped her shoulder.

Another person squeezed past.

Voices overlapped.

Tickets beeped.

The driver's radio crackled.

Her breathing faltered.

Not now...

Please...

She stepped aside, letting everyone else board first.

By the time she climbed inside, almost every seat was taken.

She quietly slipped into the last empty window seat near the back.

The bus pulled away.

She let out a slow breath.

One obstacle down.

Many more to go.

...

Twenty-three minutes later...

Glass buildings began replacing apartment blocks.

The streets grew cleaner.

The cars became more expensive.

People wore tailored suits instead of casual clothes.

Her phone vibrated.

Welcome to Volkov Industries. Orientation begins at 9:00 a.m. Please arrive ten minutes early.

Her stomach flipped.

She looked out the window.

Then she saw it.

A skyscraper of glass and steel stretched into the sky, its reflective windows catching the morning sunlight.

The company logo gleamed above the entrance.

VOLKOV INDUSTRIES

Her eyes widened.

"...It's huge."

The bus stopped.

She remained frozen for a moment.

Everyone else stepped off before she finally stood.

Outside, dozens of employees walked confidently through the revolving doors as if this place belonged to them.

Iris, meanwhile, simply stood across the street.

Clutching her backpack.

Looking impossibly small against the towering building.

She swallowed.

"I can do this..."

A pause.

"...Probably."

She crossed the street carefully and approached the entrance.

The revolving door.

She stared at it.

"...How do these work again?"

She had seen them before.

She had just... never actually used one.

An elderly man in a navy suit noticed her hesitation.

He smiled kindly.

"First day?"

Her cheeks flushed.

"...Is it that obvious?"

He chuckled.

"A little."

He stepped into the revolving door first.

"Just walk behind me."

"Oh... thank you."

A few seconds later, Iris found herself standing inside the magnificent lobby.

Marble floors reflected the sunlight.

Modern chandeliers hung from the high ceiling.

Large indoor trees softened the sleek architecture.

Employees crossed the lobby with practiced confidence, greeting one another as they hurried toward elevators.

Everything looked expensive.

Everything looked polished.

Everything looked completely out of place for someone like her.

She tightened her grip on the folder in her hands.

Don't drop it.

Don't trip.

Don't panic.

One thing at a time.

She walked toward the reception desk.

A woman in a charcoal-gray suit smiled professionally.

"Good morning. How may I help you?"

Iris offered a small smile.

"H-Hi... I'm Iris Bennett."

"My first day..."

"I'm here for the junior graphic designer position."

The receptionist typed quickly before nodding.

"Welcome to Volkov Industries, Ms. Bennett."

She handed Iris a visitor badge.

"Orientation will begin on the twenty-fourth floor. The elevators are to your left."

"Thank you."

Iris accepted the badge with both hands.

She turned...

Took exactly three steps...

And walked straight into one of the decorative indoor plants.

Leaves rustled loudly.

The pot wobbled.

Her eyes went wide.

"Oh!"

She caught the pot just before it tipped over.

"...Sorry."

A nearby employee blinked.

Another bit back a laugh.

The receptionist smiled, pretending she hadn't seen a thing.

Face burning, Iris carefully straightened the plant.

"...We're both okay," she whispered to it before hurrying toward the elevators.

She didn't notice the security guard covering his mouth to hide a grin.

Nor did she notice the black luxury sedan gliding silently to a stop outside the front entrance.

Its rear door opened.

A pair of polished black shoes touched the pavement.

Employees near the entrance instinctively straightened.

Conversations stopped.

The air itself seemed to change.

Alexander Volkov had arrived.

The moment Alexander Volkov stepped into the building...

The atmosphere changed.

Conversations ended.

Laughter disappeared.

People who had been casually chatting only seconds ago immediately stood straighter.

"Good morning, Mr. Volkov."

"Morning, sir."

"Good morning."

He acknowledged them with the slightest nod.

Nothing more.

His expression remained unreadable.

At thirty-one, Alexander carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who never needed to raise his voice to be heard.

His black tailored suit fit him perfectly.

The crisp white shirt beneath it contrasted with the dark overcoat draped over his broad shoulders.

A silver watch rested against his wrist.

Every step was calm.

Measured.

Purposeful.

There wasn't a hint of hurry.

Yet everyone unconsciously moved out of his way.

He disliked unnecessary conversation.

He disliked excuses even more.

To his employees, he was a brilliant CEO.

To his competitors, he was ruthless.

To the media...

He was a mystery.

...

"Today's schedule."

His assistant, Ethan Carter, matched his pace while handing him a tablet.

"Nine o'clock board briefing."

"Ten-thirty meeting with the overseas investors."

"Twelve o'clock contract review."

"A one o'clock lunch meeting."

"Two interviews for the European branch."

Alexander glanced at the screen.

"Anything urgent?"

Ethan hesitated.

"The marketing department wants your approval for the winter campaign."

"It can wait."

"And Human Resources is welcoming twenty-three new employees today."

Alexander simply hummed.

New employees came every month.

It wasn't something that required his attention.

"Anything else?"

"No, sir."

They entered the private executive elevator.

The doors slid shut.

Silence settled between them.

Alexander preferred it that way.

...

Meanwhile...

On the other side of the lobby...

Iris stood in front of another elevator.

She stared at the buttons.

There were...

Too many.

"So..."

She frowned thoughtfully.

"...Twenty-four."

She pressed the button.

Nothing happened.

She pressed it again.

Still nothing.

"...Did I break it?"

"No."

A old man behind her answered.

"You have to call the elevator first."

"Oh."

She immediately looked down in embarrassment.

"Right..."

Without realizing it, she had been pressing the floor number on the panel beside the closed doors instead of the call button.

"...That makes sense."

The old man beside her smiled politely before pressing the correct button.

A soft ding echoed through the lobby.

"There."

"...Thank you."

"It's my first day."

"I noticed."

Her ears turned pink.

"Was it because of the elevator?"

"...Mostly."

She sighed dramatically.

"This isn't going very well."

"It'll get better."

"I hope so."

The elevator doors opened.

Several people stepped inside.

Iris waited.

She always preferred entering last.

When everyone had settled, she quietly walked in and stood in the far corner.

The elevator began its ascent.

Five floors.

Eight floors.

Ten.

More employees entered.

The space became smaller.

Warmer.

Noisier.

Someone's perfume was overwhelmingly strong.

A phone rang.

Two coworkers began discussing deadlines.

Another laughed loudly.

Iris lowered her head.

Too many voices.

Too little space.

She adjusted her breathing the way she'd practiced.

In...

Out...

In...

Out...

Almost there...

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her backpack.

A familiar pressure slowly settled behind her right eye.

Not yet...

Please.

The migraine.

She closed her eyes for just a second.

When the elevator stopped on the eighteenth floor, several people stepped out.

The extra space helped immediately.

She quietly exhaled.

Better.

Much better.

The elevator finally reached the twenty-fourth floor.

The doors opened.

She was the last one to leave.

Following the signs marked Human Resources, she eventually found a bright conference room.

Inside, around twenty new employees were already seated.

Some chatted confidently.

Others introduced themselves.

Iris chose the chair in the very last row beside the window.

It felt safer there.

She placed her notebook on the table.

Then accidentally dropped her pen.

"...Oh."

It rolled underneath the neighboring chair.

Before she could crawl under the table to retrieve it, someone picked it up.

"I think this belongs to you."

A cheerful young woman with curly blonde hair smiled warmly.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

The woman held out her hand.

"I'm Chloe."

"Iris."

"It's nice to meet you."

"You too."

There was an awkward pause.

Chloe noticed Iris nervously fidgeting with the edge of her notebook.

"First corporate job?"

Iris nodded.

"...Is it obvious?"

Chloe laughed softly.

"Only because I'm exactly the same."

That made Iris smile.

A genuine one.

The first since leaving home.

Just then, a woman in a navy suit entered the room.

"Good morning, everyone."

"My name is Amelia Hayes from Human Resources."

"Welcome to Volkov Industries."

The conversations stopped immediately.

Amelia smiled.

"Congratulations. Out of more than three thousand applicants, each of you earned a place here."

Several people looked impressed.

Iris blinked.

Three thousand...?

She hadn't known that.

Her heart skipped.

Did...

Did they really choose her?

Amelia continued.

"Today you'll learn about our departments, company policies, and expectations."

"One more thing."

She smiled knowingly.

"If you happen to cross paths with our CEO..."

The room became noticeably quieter.

"...Don't be intimidated."

Several people exchanged nervous glances.

Amelia chuckled.

"I know the rumors."

"No, he doesn't smile often."

"Yes, he expects excellence."

"But he's fair."

"As long as you do your work well, you'll have nothing to worry about."

Iris quietly wrote one line in her notebook.

CEO doesn't smile.

Then, after thinking for a moment, she added another beneath it.

Try not to accidentally bump into him.