It all started with a simple mistake.
An administrative mix-up, a system glitch, human error - whatever you wanted to call it. But sohow, here I was, perched like a crown jewel at the top floor of the Roen Group headquarters, the sa ga-corporation that practically ran the country. Standing on trembling knees in my office - my office.
It all started just a few hours ago - Monday morning. My first day at work.
"Good... good morning, Ma’am. I’m a new intern here starting from today. I–I was told that I can ask for directions at the reception when I arrive," I said, almost whispering. I was never good with first days - at anything, anywhere.
As soon as I presented my ID, the receptionist hurriedly phoned soone. She spoke quietly, but I overheard her say, "She’s here," as if she’d spotted a wanted criminal.
I froze on the spot, not knowing what to do - not knowing what I had done wrong.
It just felt wrong to be here, but it was about to get a lot worse than that.
Shortly, a group of n - n who looked far too bulky to be regular office workers - rushed over. A sharply dressed woman, clearly soone of senior rank, hurried toward , her heels clacking on the marble floor.
"Ms. Roen, welco ho," she said. She bead a warm smile, but there was a nervous glint in her eyes—and what did she an by ’welco ho’?
To make matters even more confusing, after her strange greeting, everyone bowed to - very deeply. Their backs bent at 90 degrees. It was so formal, I wondered for a second whether I should kneel and bow till my head touched the ground.
The group then courteously ushered down a long hallway that seed completely off-limits to regular staff. No one else was around. The further we walked, the more wrong it felt - yet no one acted like anything was wrong at all.
At the end of the hallway stood a woman dressed in an immaculate black suit. Pristine white shirt. Perfectly knotted black tie. Her shoes were so polished I could see my distorted reflection in them.
She was pale, almost unnaturally so, with long silver hair and ethereal gray eyes. Eyes that could see through you. Eyes that you could fall into.
"Nice to et you, Miss Roen. I am your personal assistant, Luc," she said with a nod and a professional smile.
Wait - my personal assistant?
"I will take it from here," Luc said to the others, and everyone quietly scattered. I was left alone with the enigmatic woman, who pressed the elevator button.
"Please, follow ."
I wanted to protest. To explain that there must have been so mistake. But her invitation carried a gravity that made interruption feel like blasphemy.
And so I followed. And now, I stood alone in a skyscraper I had no business being in, gazing out of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a skyline I couldn’t afford to dream about.
I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to be anything, really.
Instead, I now had a corner office with glass walls and a view of the sky that made feel like I’d been pulled out of the atmosphere. I placed a hand against the window, half expecting the whole illusion to ripple like a dream. It didn’t. The glass was cold. Solid. Real.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, but it only made dizzier.
"Miss, are you sure you are well?"
The voice ca softly beside , closer than I realized. It was low and husky, but sharp around the edges, like a scalpel made of velvet. I flinched hard enough to almost fall against the window.
"P–please! Don’t sneak up on like that!" I yelped. My voice cracked. It sounded high and ridiculous in this quiet space built for power and poise.
"My deepest apologies, Miss," she said, with a fluid bow of her head. "I shall never do that again."
I turned, only to stumble back at the sight of her suddenly kneeling - yes, kneeling - on one knee before . Like a knight from a fairytale.
"No, no, no! No need to kneel! Please get up!" I flailed, waving her upright like a lunatic.
She looked up from below, composed. Behind , the endless blue sky reflected faintly in her gray eyes—eyes that weren’t cold, just... ancient. Like they had seen too many truths and no longer cared for lies.
She wasn’t pretty. She wasn’t beautiful. Those words were too small. Too flimsy. Her presence didn’t shine. It absorbed light. She was a knight in a jet-black suit. If I dared reach out to touch her, I felt I’d vanish from this world.
I took another step back, bumping into the glossy black desk behind .
"This... I’ll say it again... is all a big mistake."
"If that makes you feel better, Miss," she replied smoothly, "then let us call it a mistake."
"No! I an it!" My voice cracked again. "I’m just—just an intern! I’m not supposed to be here. None of this makes sense. I don’t know how I got this office. Or why people are bowing. Or why you’re kneeling in front of !"
Luc didn’t flinch. She stood like rising water - seamless, graceful. She adjusted the cuffs of her blazer.
"I understand. This must be difficult to accept. I’m terribly sorry for your loss, and it is unfair for you to be burdened so soon. But Miss, you are the heiress of the Roen family. I will assist you however I can."
My brain short-circuited at the word heiress. It echoed like a slap.
I covered my face with my hands and pressed against my eyes. Maybe I’d wake up on the floor of my cheap apartnt, next to a cold bowl of instant noodles.
But nothing changed.
"You don’t look well." Her voice again. "Please, take a seat."
I felt the gentle tug on my sleeve and let her guide - almost against my will - to the enormous leather chair behind the desk. It wasn’t a chair. It was a throne. I lted into it.
Luc remained still beside , a silent sentinel.
The desk glead like black water, and in its reflection, I saw myself - unkempt hair, wide eyes, a stunned face. A girl who didn’t belong.
My na is Lin Roen.
A 23-year-old nobody from a village no one can pronounce. No top university. No connections. No talent. I just wanted a job where no one would yell at .
And sohow, I ended up here.
I’d applied to 21 companies. All rejections. Except Roen Group.
The most powerful conglorate in the country.
They called back in two hours.
I thought it was a scam.
But they smiled. Asked strange questions. Hired on the spot.
That was last Friday.
Today, I’m seated in a skyscraper I shouldn’t be allowed into.
The only thing that happened between then and now was...
A disaster.
The Roen family - CEO, heirs, every board-level mber - died in what the dia called a freak incident.
Now, I’m the only one left.
At least, that’s what they believe.
But I’m not.
I’m not anyone.
I’m just Lin Roen.
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