The familiar symphony of car horns and distant chatter served as my morning soundtrack, a constant reminder of the city's relentless pace. I glanced at my reflection, cringing slightly at my appearance. Not my best, but good enough for another frantic dash through Manhattan.

“Late again, Savannah?” Jeff, my favorite cabbie, chuckled, his eyes twinkling in the rearview mirror. I just offered him an obnoxious wave, already mentally calculating the minutes until I hit my desk.

Reaching the towering glass edifice of Silver Crest Industries, I hurried through the grand entrance, my heels clicking a rapid rhythm against the marble floor. Matt, the doorman, held the door open, a knowing smile on his face. "Don't hurt yourself running in those shoes, Miss Moss!"

Inside the elevator, I smoothed my skirt, adjusted my blouse, and sighed, leaning my head against the cool wall. No time for coffee this morning, and the thought alone was enough to make me drag. My mind drifted to the endless emails awaiting me, and the ever-present, daunting figure of our CEO, Nathan Daniels, whose reputation preceded him through the office grapevine.

As the elevator doors opened on the twenty-eighth floor, a wave of relief washed over me. Misty's office lights were still off – a small victory. I made my way to my desk, the familiar hum of the office a prelude to another demanding day. But little did I know, this day was about to introduce an entirely new kind of demand, one that would redefine everything I thought I knew.