The rain was still pounding against the windows when Adrián Foster closed his laptop after his last Twitch stream. The chat was still buzzing with messages of disbelief over the multimillion-dollar giveaway, but he had no regrets. He had delivered a dignified closing, and now it was time for a new beginning.
"The journey has just begun," he whispered, pouring himself the last sip of wine before turning off the lights in the studio.
He slept little that night. It wasn't the storm that kept him awake, but Emily Carter. Every memory of her smile, every word she said during their brief encounters, replayed in his head like a delicious and haunting echo. At three in the morning, the downpour finally subsided. Exhausted, Adrian drifted off to sleep.
When he opened his eyes, his cell phone alarm read 8:10 a.m. He blinked in disbelief.
"What the hell…?" he muttered.
And then he remembered: he was no longer a streamer, no longer a spectator of his own fortune. He was the CEO of Coleman Media Today was his first official day.
He jumped out of bed like a spring.
"Damn! It's Monday!" she shouted, almost tripping on the carpet as she ran to the dressing room.
He chose an elegant yet modern outfit: a perfectly ironed light blue shirt, dark, fitted trousers, and a tailored black blazer. His reflection in the mirror revealed a confident, attractive man with an air that left no doubt he belonged to New York's elite. He smiled with a touch of narcissism.
—Perfect. A young, millionaire, and damn handsome boss.
He had barely stepped down into the underground parking lot when he Aston Martin negro It gleamed in the lights. He jumped in and sped off toward Manhattan.
But he soon encountered the cruel reality. The freeway was jammed. An endless line of cars moved forward at a snail's pace. Horns blared like an out-of-tune choir, and some drivers shouted insults from their windows. New York's rush-hour traffic was unforgiving, not even to millionaires.
"Great." Adrian leaned his forehead on the steering wheel. "My first day as CEO, and I'm running late."
He watched as cyclists and delivery drivers on scooters easily overtook him, dodging cars and squeezing through impossible spaces. A woman in a suit resignedly got out of a taxi and ran through the rain, high heels in hand, to catch a bus.
He sighed. He could buy anything he wanted, but time was still an unattainable luxury.
After nearly an hour of frustration, he finally arrived in front of the skyscraper where Coleman Media had its offices. The clock on the dashboard read 9:15. He was officially late.
He entered the lobby and found another surprise: a huge line in front of the elevators. Dozens of office workers were waiting patiently, eating muffins, checking their phones, or chatting casually.
"Really?" Adrian muttered, incredulous. "Doesn't anyone worry about being late in this city?"
When he finally managed to get into an elevator, the experience was like stepping into a can of sardines. They were so tightly packed he could barely breathe. A young woman in heels and a pencil skirt leaned too far against him, intentionally. Adrian raised an uncomfortable eyebrow.
"Perfect. First day and I already have to put up with this."
The woman got off on the previous floor and gave him a flirtatious smile before disappearing. Adrian snorted.
—Flirting with a stranger in an elevator… New York never disappoints.
When I finally arrived at the Coleman Media floor, the clock read 9:30. I had lost half an hour.
As soon as he stepped outside, he heard a familiar, sparkling voice:
"Mr. Foster!" It was Sophie Miller, the receptionist, a cheerful young woman who always seemed in a good mood. "I thought you weren't coming."
Adrian smiled to hide the tension.
—Let's just say I had a little fight with Manhattan traffic… and I lost.
Sophie frowned, holding up a half-eaten muffin.
—Do you want one? I know you didn't have time for breakfast.
He raised an eyebrow in amusement.
—Was that for me or were you secretly eating breakfast?
She blushed a little, but smiled immediately.
—Well… maybe both.
Adrian laughed, accepting the muffin.
—Thank you, Sophie. Don't ever change. I need real people here.
As she walked toward the main office, she heard some female employees murmuring in the hallway:
—Did you see him? He's even more handsome in person than in the photos.
—And he has an Aston Martin… how could you not fall in love?
—Not only that, he owns the company!
Adrian couldn't help but listen. He smiled to himself. Sure, he'd arrived late, but he was still making a mark.
He pushed open the boardroom doors decisively. All the managers were already seated, waiting. Conversations instantly died away, and dozens of eyes were fixed on him.
"Good morning, everyone," he said firmly, moving to the head of the table. "Yes, I'm late. And yes, I'm your new boss. But trust me… from today on, Coleman Media will never be the same."
The expectant silence turned into absolute attention. The first day was just beginning.