CHAPTER FIVE
Mia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling long before her alarm blared through the quiet room. Sleep had evaded her for most of the night, leaving her tangled in a mess of sheets and nerves. Her thoughts had refused to settle, replaying every possible scenario of her presentation like a never-ending reel. She imagined herself stammering, forgetting key points, or—God forbid—completely blanking in front of Marco Valentino.
When the alarm finally shrilled at 6:30 AM, she flinched but didn’t bother reaching for it. She had been awake for the last half-hour, counting down the minutes in the dim morning light. With a deep breath, she turned it off, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and sat there for a moment, her heart thudding against her ribs.
You’ve got this. Just get through today.
She forced herself to stand and padded to the bathroom, shivering as her bare feet met the cold tiles. Turning on the shower, she let the water heat up before stepping in, sighing as the warmth seeped into her tense muscles. She stood under the stream for a while, letting it wash away the exhaustion clinging to her bones.
After lathering herself with vanilla-scented soap, she massaged shampoo into her blonde hair, carefully working the strands with practiced ease. The scent of citrus and honey filled the air as she rinsed, the fragrant steam helping to ease some of the knots in her shoulders.
By the time she stepped out, wrapped in a towel, the anxiety had dulled—but only slightly.
She made her way to her wardrobe, rifling through her neatly arranged clothes. Today demanded the perfect balance between confidence and professionalism. After a few seconds of deliberation, she pulled out a cream-colored silk blouse and a high-waisted charcoal pencil skirt. She paired it with nude heels, knowing they would elongate her legs and give her that extra boost of confidence.
Standing in front of her mirror, she gave herself a once-over. Her straight blonde hair fell in soft layers around her face, framing her sharp cheekbones and full lips. She applied light makeup—just enough to hide the exhaustion and add some color to her face. A touch of nude lipstick, a hint of blush, and a flick of mascara later, she looked ready to take on the day.
Or at least, she hoped she did.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she needed to eat. As much as her nerves made her feel like skipping breakfast, she knew she couldn’t risk feeling faint during the presentation. She walked into the kitchen and made herself a quick omelet, flipping it onto a plate before pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee.
She took slow bites, barely tasting the food as her mind continued to race. Her laptop sat open on the counter, the slides of her presentation glowing on the screen. She had gone over them at least a dozen times last night, but she still felt like something was missing.
Checking the time, she nearly choked on her last sip of coffee. 8:30 AM.
Shit.
She grabbed her bag, slipped on her blazer, and rushed out the door, locking it behind her. As she speed-walked toward the bus stop, the sun peeked over the buildings, painting the sky in warm hues of gold and orange. The air was crisp, but the heat of the day was already settling in.
It was going to be another hot day.
By the time Mia reached the bus stop, the streets were already buzzing with morning activity. The hum of traffic filled the air, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café. Street vendors called out their usual morning deals, and office workers rushed past, their heels clicking against the pavement.
She exhaled sharply, hugging her bag to her chest. The nerves hadn’t settled—not even a little.
A young couple stood a few feet away from her, lost in their own world. The woman giggled as the man tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. They looked carefree, wrapped up in love and morning sunshine.
Mia’s chest tightened. For a moment, she wished she could be that at ease—completely absorbed in something other than the mounting anxiety clawing at her stomach.
The bus finally screeched to a stop, and she climbed aboard, choosing a seat near the window. As the city blurred past, she tapped her fingers against her knee, rehearsing key points of her presentation in her mind.
The ride felt both too long and too short. Before she knew it, the bus reached her stop, and she stepped off, adjusting her skirt and taking a deep breath.
The office building loomed ahead, a towering structure of sleek glass and steel that gleamed under the golden morning sun. Its reflective surface mirrored the bustling city around it, from the steady stream of pedestrians weaving through the sidewalks to the line of honking cars stuck in traffic. Mia took a deep breath, steeling herself before pushing through the revolving doors.
The moment she stepped inside, the shift in energy was palpable. The air carried a charged sense of urgency, a stark contrast to the leisurely pace of the streets outside. Employees moved swiftly through the polished marble lobby, their heels clicking with purpose. Some clutched files to their chests while others balanced cups of coffee, barely sparing a glance at their surroundings. The low murmur of conversations blended seamlessly with the distant ringing of phones, creating a rhythmic hum that filled the space.
Near the reception desk, a group of interns huddled together, whispering in hushed tones as they stole nervous glances toward the elevators. The receptionist barely looked up as she answered an incoming call, her voice crisp and professional. A security guard stood near the entrance, surveying the room with a watchful eye.
Mia exhaled slowly, smoothing down the front of her blouse as she adjusted the strap of her bag. The cool blast of air conditioning sent a shiver down her spine, but she barely noticed. Her focus was singular—getting through the next few hours without falling apart.
Mia’s heels echoed sharply against the polished marble floor, a steady rhythm that barely registered in her mind as she moved toward her cubicle. The usual morning chatter of employees settling into their workstations, the distant hum of printers, and the occasional ring of a phone blurred into background noise. Her focus was on the task ahead, on the weight of the presentation looming over her.
But she barely made it two steps before her gaze locked onto a familiar figure standing near the conference room—Mr. Gravitas. He was flanked by a few board members, engaged in a low conversation. His expression was unreadable, his posture rigid, a telltale sign that something important was happening.
Mia slowed her pace, gripping her bag strap as she observed them from afar. The board members occasionally nodded, exchanging glances, their demeanor composed but attentive. Whatever they were discussing, it was serious.
Then, as if sensing her presence, Mr. Gravitas’s gaze snapped to hers. His sharp blue eyes locked onto her, and without hesitation, he gave a curt nod, motioning her forward.
A lump formed in her throat as she approached.
“Miss Cruz,” he said, extending a sleek black file toward her. His voice, though calm, carried an unmistakable air of authority. “Marco Valentino has arrived.”
Mia’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected him to be here so early.
Mr. Gravitas continued, his gaze unwavering. “You’ll be presenting first. Be ready.”
Her fingers tightened around the edges of the file, feeling the crisp weight of the documents inside. The paper felt heavier than it should have, as if the gravity of the moment had seeped into it.
Her pulse pounded against her ribs. The reality of the situation crashed over her—this was her moment to prove herself. To stand before one of the most influential men in the industry and make her case.
She exhaled shakily, lifting her chin ever so slightly.
This was it. No turning back now.