The week began with the kind of chaos Harin both craved and dreaded. It started with a wave—emails stacking up, messages pinging at every hour, brand offers coming in from every direction. The conference had done its job too well: LUNE was hot property now, everyone wanted a piece, and Harin felt the heat even in her bones.
She hadn't even finished her first coffee when her assistant, always prompt, always "helpful," entered with a neat stack of printouts and an iPad in hand. "Here's the latest shortlist, Director. I flagged the most promising opportunities—potential sponsors, two new fashion house collaborations, a song contest pitch, and some interesting investment inquiries." The assistant's smile was polite, posture deferential, but her eyes flickered sharp and alert.
Harin barely glanced up, already scrolling through her phone. "Summarize the outliers."
