The morning sun spilled across the skyline of Cebu, painting the glass towers in shades of gold. Elena Cruz adjusted the strap of her modest handbag, its worn leather a far cry from the designer purses that lined her closet at home. Today, she was not the heiress of Cruz Holdings. Today, she was Elena Ramirez, a fresh applicant stepping into the world of Velasco Enterprises.
Her heart thudded as she approached the building. The company's headquarters loomed above her, sleek and intimidating, its mirrored façade reflecting ambition itself. She paused at the revolving doors, inhaling deeply. This is it. No chauffeurs. No family name. Just me.
Inside, the lobby buzzed with activity—heels clicking against marble, voices murmuring over coffee, the faint hum of elevators rising and falling. Elena clutched her folder of documents, the false surname printed neatly across her résumé. She had rehearsed this moment countless times, but now her palms were damp, her throat tight.
"Good morning," the receptionist greeted, her tone brisk but polite. "Name?"
"Elena… Ramirez," she replied, forcing steadiness into her voice.
The receptionist scanned her list, nodded, and handed her a visitor's badge. "Orientation is on the tenth floor. HR will meet you there."
Elena thanked her and stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, she caught her reflection in the polished steel. Gone was the polished heiress with flawless makeup and designer heels. In her place stood a young woman in a simple blouse and skirt, hair tied back, eyes wide with determination. You can do this, she told herself. You have to.
The orientation room smelled faintly of coffee and fresh paper. A handful of new hires sat scattered across the rows of chairs, chatting nervously. Elena slid into a seat near the back, grateful for anonymity.
Beside her, a cheerful young woman with curly hair leaned over. "First day?" she asked.
"Yes," Elena said, smiling faintly.
"I'm Maya," the woman continued. "Don't worry, everyone's nervous. Velasco Enterprises is… intense."
Elena tilted her head. "Intense?"
Maya chuckled. "You'll see. The CEO—Adrian Velasco—he's brilliant, but people say he's cold. Demanding. The kind of man who notices everything."
Elena's stomach tightened. She had read about Adrian Velasco in business magazines: the self-made tycoon who built his empire from scratch, the man whose gaze could silence a boardroom. She had never imagined she might one day work under him.
Before she could reply, the HR manager entered, launching into a speech about company values, expectations, and policies. Elena tried to focus, but her mind wandered. What if someone recognizes me? What if Adrian Velasco himself sees through me?
By afternoon, Elena was assigned to the marketing department. Her desk was small, tucked between filing cabinets and a window that overlooked the city. She ran her fingers across the keyboard, feeling both exhilarated and terrified.
Her first task was simple: compile data into a report. Yet the numbers blurred, the formatting confused her. She had never done this kind of work before—her education had been theoretical, her life cushioned by assistants and tutors. Now, every mistake was hers alone.
"Need help?" Maya appeared at her side, grinning.
Elena flushed. "I… I think I'll figure it out."
Maya leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Don't worry. Everyone struggles at first. Just don't let the boss catch you slacking."
"The boss?" Elena asked.
Maya's eyes flicked toward the glass wall of the executive office across the floor. "Adrian Velasco. He walks through sometimes. You'll know when he's around—the air changes."
Elena followed her gaze. The office was empty, but the thought of its occupant sent a shiver down her spine. She had come here to prove herself, not to attract attention. Yet a part of her wondered what it would be like to meet him, to stand in the presence of a man who had built his empire from nothing.
The day dragged on, filled with small errors and quiet corrections. By evening, Elena was exhausted, her fingers aching from typing. As she gathered her things, the elevator doors opened—and the atmosphere shifted.
A tall figure stepped onto the floor, his presence commanding even in silence. Adrian Velasco. His suit was sharp, his expression unreadable, his eyes scanning the room with quiet authority. Conversations hushed, keyboards stilled.
Elena froze, her breath caught. For a moment, his gaze swept across the office—and landed on her.
It was only a second, but it felt like an eternity. His eyes were dark, piercing, as if they could strip away every layer of her disguise. She looked down quickly, clutching her bag.
When she glanced up again, he was already walking toward his office, the door closing behind him.
Elena exhaled shakily. He saw me. Did he notice?
She pressed a hand to her chest, steadying herself. This was only the beginning. Tomorrow, she would return. Tomorrow, she would prove she belonged here.
But tonight, as she stepped out into the cool evening air, one thought lingered: Adrian Velasco had looked at her—not as an heiress, not as a fraud, but as an employee. And something in that gaze had unsettled her more than any lie she carried.