ELLAS POV
I woke to the low hum of the city outside the window—horns, distant voices and something that might've been a garbage truck groaning its way down the street. Even after two months, I still wasn't used to it.
Back in Chicago, mornings came gently—birdsong at the window and the quiet rhythm of my dad shuffling around the kitchen in his worn socks.
I missed home. But I couldn't stay. Chicago held too many ghosts, some I wasn't ready to face. Leaving had felt like escape and survival wrapped in one suitcase. I told myself it was for a fresh start, for the job hunt, for paying off my loans. And maybe that was true. But part of me knew it was also about finally choosing peace.
I blinked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, letting the moment settle. My room was small—bare walls, one window, stacks of books on the floor, I hadn't found shelves for yet. The only thing that made it feel like home was the fuzzy green blanket at the foot of my bed. Dad gave it to me before I left.
I pushed off the blanket, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and let my feet touch the hardwood floor.
The apartment was small, but cozy in a way that made it feel more like an adventure than a compromise. I padded down the narrow hallway toward Luke's room, the floor creaking just slightly under my weight.
His door was half-open, and I peeked in. He was still fast asleep.
He was sprawled on his stomach, one leg hanging off the edge of the mattress, mouth slightly open like someone who hadn't yet faced the horror of a New York morning. His black curls were a mess, and his phone was still lit up beside him, buzzing occasionally with unread texts.
I smiled to myself. "Lucky you," I whispered.
Turning away, I made my way into the kitchen. It wasn't much—a small counter, a chipped coffee maker, and a fridge with exactly two magnets and one sticky note reminding us to "buy real food." But it was ours.
I opened a cabinet, found the last clean mug, and poured myself some of the coffee Luke probably set the timer for last night.
Leaning against the counter, I took a slow sip and stared out the window at the skyline beyond our fire escape. The buildings stretched tall and endless, like they were daring me to keep up.
Two months in Manhattan and I was still finding my footing. But today was going be a big day I finally got a job. Vale Industries. Saying it out loud still felt strange—but amazing. Landing this internship was a big deal. If I played my cards right, maybe they'd keep me on after, and I could finally start paying off my student loans.
I shook my head, trying not to overthink it. "Just don't mess this up, Ella."
Back in my room, I pulled my hair into a messy bun, slipped into a black dress that hugged my curves just right, and put on my heels. I caught my reflection in the mirror—blonde hair, sharp eyes, and a body that worked for me. Not bad for a Monday morning.
As I grabbed my bag and headed out, Luke finally stirred.
"Hey," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
I smiled, waving as I passed. "Morning, sleepyhead."
He sat up, stretched, and gave me a quick once-over. "Looking good. That dress—nice choice."
I laughed. "Thanks. Trying to not look like a total mess."
He grinned. "You won't mess up today. Go get 'em."
We waved goodbye, and I felt a little lighter stepping out the door.
"Have a good day at work," Luke called after me.
"You too," I called back. "See you tonight."
I locked the door behind me and stepped into the buzz of the city. The air was brisk, carrying the scent of fresh coffee and something faintly metallic—the subway was waiting for me a few blocks away. My heels clicked against the pavement, steady but quick.
I tried to calm the flutter in my chest. First day at Vale Industries, first real step toward something better.
"Don't trip," I muttered under my breath, already feeling a little nervous about how clumsy I could be.
The subway station was crowded, a river of faces rushing past. I squeezed into the train, clutching my bag close, and found a spot near the door. The city lights flickered outside the windows as the train rumbled underground.
I pulled out my phone to review some notes—press releases, company facts, maybe a few questions I could ask if someone noticed I was new.
"Okay, Ella. You've got this."
The train pulled into my stop, and I stepped back onto the street, swallowed by the towering buildings around Vale Industries. Looking up at the glass skyscraper, feeling small but hopeful. I pushed through the revolving doors, the air inside cooler and quieter than the city streets. The lobby was sleek—marble floors, glass walls, and people in sharp suits moving with purpose. I tried to blend in, even though my heart was pounding like a drum.
At the front desk, I gave my name. The receptionist smiled politely and handed me a visitor badge. "First day?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound confident.
She nodded. "Good luck."
I headed to the elevator and pressed the button for the PR department on the twelfth floor. The doors closed, and I took a deep breath, smoothing my dress again.
When the doors opened, I stepped into a sea of desks, buzzing phones, and focused faces. My new boss, a woman in her forties with a sharp bob, spotted me and waved me over.
"You must be Ella Martin's. Welcome to Vale," she said warmly. "I'm Karen Blake, head of PR."
"Thank you. I'm excited to get started."
She smiled. "Great. Let me introduce you around."
As we walked, I noticed the mix of friendly smiles and quick nods.
Karen led me through the busy office and stopped in front of a small cubicle near the back.
"This is yours," she said, swinging the door open. The space was pretty small — just a desk, a chair, and a little filing cabinet shoved underneath. There was a corkboard on the wall with a few colorful sticky notes and some photos pinned up.
"It's nothing fancy, but you'll make it yours in no time," she added with a smile.
I nodded, already imagining how I'd set up my new little spot.
I was setting up my things at the small desk when a cheerful voice came from beside my cubicle.
"Hey! You must be the new intern," I looked up and saw a girl leaning casually against the wall of my cubicle. She had a warm smile, deep dimples, and a head full of curls pulled into a high puff.
"Yep, that's me," I said, straightening a little. "Ella."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Maya—I sit right there," she said, pointing to the next cubicle over. "Figured I'd say hi before the day gets crazy."
"Hi," I said with a grateful smile. "Thanks. First day jitters are definitely a thing."
"Oh, totally. Been there. You'll find your rhythm soon. Just… don't let the printer bully you. That thing's evil."
I laughed, instantly liking her.
She glanced around and lowered her voice a little. "Also, there's this award gala thing tonight. Kind of a big deal. Rumor is they're picking a couple of interns to help out."
"Really? That sounds exciting."
"Yeah," she said, a little dreamy. "It's black-tie, media coverage, the whole works. I've been here almost eight months, so fingers crossed."
"Hope you get it," I said, meaning it.
"Thanks," she grinned. "If I don't, I'll still be stalking everyone's outfits from here. Anyway, if you need anything—coffee run, password help, or just a break from staring at your screen—I'm your girl."
"Definitely might take you up on that," I said.
With a quick wink, she disappeared back to her cubicle. I exhaled a little. First day, and I already had one friendly face. Not a bad start.
I had barely gotten through setting up my login when a soft tap landed on the edge of my cubicle. I looked up to see my boss—Karen—holding a tablet and a to-go cup that looked dangerously full.
"Ella, how's it going so far?" she asked with a small smile.
"Good! Still getting settled in, but I'm ready to dive in."
"Love that energy." She scrolled briefly through her tablet. "I'd like you to help Maya pull together media coverage from last quarter's charity events. We're refreshing the archive, and it's a good way to get familiar with our clients."
"Absolutely," I said, nodding.
"There's a shared folder on the drive. I'll add you in shortly—just sort, tag, and summarize the press mentions. Articles, social media posts, whatever's been floating out there."
"Got it. Thank you."
Karen paused, then glanced up from her screen. "Also, tonight there's an industry awards event we're attending—pretty casual, just some networking and cocktails. A few of the PR team are going. You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."
My eyebrows lifted. "Really? That sounds amazing."
"Good. I'll send you the details."
She gave me an encouraging smile and walked off, heels clacking confidently down the aisle.
A few minutes later, Maya appeared at the edge of my cubicle, clutching her phone like it held the secret to life.
"You are not going to believe this," she said, eyes wide with excitement. "I just got the invite to that industry awards event tonight!"
I smiled. "No way. Me too! Harper just stopped by and told me I could come."
Maya's jaw dropped. "Shut up. We're both going? This is perfect!"
She plopped into the empty chair beside my desk like we'd been friends forever.
"I was seriously not expecting interns to get invited. I've been hoping for weeks. I mean, I've only got four months left here, and I've been dying to go to something like this before I leave."
"Well, looks like your wish came true," I said, laughing.
She nodded eagerly. "Okay, but do you have something to wear? Because if not, I've got options. Sparkly, sleek, somewhere-in-between… You name it."
"I brought exactly zero cocktail dresses with me when I moved, so I might take you up on that," I admitted.
"We'll figure it out. You and me—we're going to slay tonight."
I couldn't help but grin. Somehow, between the cubicle walls and shared excitement, this new job was starting to feel a little less intimidating.
"First day at Vale and already hitting red carpet-adjacent events," I said. "Not bad at all."
"Not bad?" Maya raised a brow. "Girl, this is how legends are made."
We both burst out laughing, and for the first time since moving to New York, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I belonged.
When the clock hit three, Maya nudged me again, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Come on, you have to come back to my place to get ready. You can't just show up to the award looking like you came straight from the office."
I hesitated, biting my lip. "I don't know, Maya," I said, glancing down at my black office dress. "My place is a bit far, and honestly, I don't mind showing up like this. It's not like I'm dressing for a runway."
Maya shook her head with a grin. "Come on, Ella, just a quick change. You'll feel way better."
I hesitated, knowing she was right but also didn't want to overstep . Still, Maya's excitement was contagious, and I didn't want to miss out. So, with a sigh, I followed her out the door.She shook her head firmly. "No way. It's too late now, and besides, you need to look the part. Trust me, I've got just the dress for you."
So, we left the office together and headed to her apartment just a few blocks away. The city was buzzing, and I could feel my nerves mix with excitement.
Inside her apartment, Maya opened her closet and started pulling out dresses. "Here, try this one." She handed me a simple dark blue dress that hugged my curves in all the right places.
I looked in the mirror, surprised. "Wow, this actually fits really well."
Maya smiled and gave me a once-over, her dark curls bouncing as she moved. She was wearing a flowing red dress that swirled around her ankles, the fabric light and elegant. Her bright eyes sparkled, and her grin was infectious.
"Girl, you look stunning," she said, her voice full of genuine excitement. "That dress shows off your shape perfectly."
I ran my fingers through my hair, deciding to let it down instead of fussing with it. There wasn't enough time for a perfect style—loose strands framed my face—but I still felt confident.
"Not bad for a last-minute style," I joked.
Maya laughed, her curls bouncing. "You're killing it."
I glanced at Maya, taking in her red flowy dress. "You look amazing," I said with a smile. "That dress really suits you—so elegant ."
Her curls bounced as she laughed softly. "Thanks! I wanted something that felt a little fancy but not over the top."
We didn't waste any more time. Grabbing our bags, we rushed out of her apartment, and got a cab to the venue. The night air was cool, filled with the hum of anticipation.
The moment we stepped out of the car, flashes exploded around us. Cameras clicked and whirred—everyone wanted a shot of the rising stars from Vale Industries. My heart hammered in my chest as we hurried inside.
The venue was a sprawling industrial space, all exposed brick and high ceilings, glowing with soft amber light. Maya squeezed my hand. "Ready for this?" she whispered.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I admitted, swallowing hard.
Backstage, Mrs. Karen stood waiting, already commanding attention even without saying a word. She gave us a quick smile. "Good timing, you two. Come over here."
We gathered with the PR team and interns as she laid out the plan. "Tonight is about making connections and showing our strength. Some of you will host guests, others will handle media, and a few will assist with presentations. Everyone's role matters."
Maya leaned toward me, whispering, "Looks like it's going to be a long night."
Most of the interns had already been assigned and whisked away to their duties. Mrs. Karen stood near the curtain, poised and efficient, her clipboard balanced in one hand as she scanned the remaining group. Her eyes landed on the four of us still waiting—me, Maya, a tall guy in a neat gray suit, and a poised girl with box braids.
She gave a small nod, stepping toward us. "You four—with me!"
"You'll be assisting Alina with stage transitions and presentation cues," Mrs. Karen said, glancing over her clipboard. "Stick close, listen, and please don't get in the way. Alina's already under enough pressure."
Before we could respond, she waved us over to Alina, who looked every bit the efficient secretary she was rumored to be—sharp bob, sleek outfit, tablet in hand, and a Bluetooth earpiece she kept tapping like it owed her money.
Alina barely looked up. "Names. Quickly."
"Tyler," the guy said first.
"Imani," the girl beside him added.
"Maya,"
I cleared my throat. "Ella Martin's
Alina nodded once and tapped something on her screen. "Perfect. You'll help manage timing, handoffs, and cue cards. Keep the presenters moving and the chaos under control."
We all exchanged glances, nodding like we knew exactly what that meant.
She held up a folded sheet of paper. "I'm supposed to hand this to Mr. Vale before the next segment—his speech was revised ten minutes ago."
Alina turned to leave but was instantly flagged down by a panicked-looking crew member.
"Alina, we need you at the teleprompter—now. It's looping the wrong script."
Alina cursed under her breath, hesitated, then turned back to us. Her eyes flicked over each face and landed on mine.
"You—Ella, right?"
I nodded slowly. "Yes?"
She held out the folded speech. "Take this to Mr. Vale. He's in dressing room 4 right behind the second curtain. Just say there were some last minute changes by the sponsors ."
My heart did a little flip. "Me?"
"Yes, you. I don't have time to argue," she said, already turning away.
---
I clutched the folder to my chest and made my way down the hallway, the click of my heels echoing off the floor. The dressing rooms were farther than I expected, hidden behind a mess of curtains and metal stands.
The noise from the event faded the deeper I went, replaced by muffled music and the occasional voice from behind a door. I scanned the nameplates until I spotted the one that read D. Vale.
Without thinking, I reached for the handle and pushed the door open.
"Mr. Vale?"
The door clicked behind me as I stepped in—and froze.
Oh no. Oh no.
There he was. Shirt halfway undone, tall and unfairly handsome in a way that made my brain short-circuit. And I'd just barged in like a complete idiot.
His eyes met mine, sharp and startled.
"Oh God—sorry!" I squeaked, already backing up a step. "I didn't know you were—um—changing. I should've knocked. Definitely should've knocked."
He didn't say anything right away, just looked at me, like he was trying to place who I was. I turned toward the door in full panic mode.
"I'll come back! I'll just—"
"Wait," he said, voice steady but quiet. "You're already in. What do you want?"
I turned back slowly, praying I wasn't blushing as hard as it felt.
"I—Alina sent me. I'm an intern with PR," I said quickly. "She asked me to bring your speech notes. There were some last-minute changes from the sponsor. She said it was urgent."
I stepped forward, carefully keeping my eyes anywhere but his chest. He reached for the folder, but his hand faltered halfway.
I frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," he said, but something in his voice wavered. Distant. Faint.
"You don't look fine," I said softly, more to myself than him.
"Just give me the folder," he said.
I moved closer and handed it to him, but before I could step back, his knees buckled.
The folder slipped from his hands.
"Mr. Vale?!"
I lurched forward as he collapsed, hitting the floor hard. My heart shot into my throat.
"Oh my God—oh my God—hey!"
I dropped beside him, nearly tripping on my own feet. "Hey—hey!" I reached out, hovering over him, not sure what I should or shouldn't touch. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
He didn't answer. His eyes fluttered shut.
Oh no. Oh no. This is not happening.
I fumbled for my phone, hands shaking. "I'm calling 911. Or Alina. Or both?" My voice was high and panicked.
His eyes opened a little, dazed.
I looked down at him, heart pounding. "Please don't die," I whispered. "I really don't want to be known as the intern who killed Darius Vale."
He didn't respond. Just a faint rise and fall of his chest.
I stared down at him, heart racing. This can't be how my first day ends.