Inside the Tan Industries Tower, the lobby was breathtaking.
Marble floors, soaring ceilings, and a reception desk that looked like a piece of modern art.
Everything was white and gold and perfect.
People in expensive suites moved through the space like they belonged there. As if this level of luxury was normal for them.
I felt like I'm an imposter in this place.
"This way, please."
The doorman led me to a private elevator, a separate one tucked behind a frosted glass wall.
He swiped a key card, and the doors slid open silently.
"Top floor. Mr. Tan is expecting you," he said with a smile.
I nodded, stepped inside, and the doors closed.
The elevator didn't have buttons. It just… started rising smoothly. And fast.
I watched the floor numbers tick upward on a discreet digital display.
10… 20… 30…
My heart climbed with them. My palms were sweating.
40… 50… 60…
'What am I doing here?'
70… 71… 72…
The elevator slowed.
73.
The doors opened with a soft ding.
And I stepped into another world.
*******
The top floor wasn't an office. It was a penthouse.
Floor to ceiling windows wrapped around the entire space, showing the city view that stole my breath. I could see everything—the river, the parks, the sprawl of buildings stretching to the horizon.
The interior was minimalist and elegant. White furniture with dark wood accents. Abstract art on the walls that probably cost more than my yearly salary.
And Daniel Tan was standing by the windows, his hands in his pockets, backlit by the morning sun.
He turned as I entered, and my breath caught.
The man was exactly the same with his photos, or probably more beautiful.
He was tall, easily over six feet. Broad shoulders in a perfectly tailored black suit.
His features were sharp and looked like they were carved from marble. His dark styled hair was just messy enough to seem effortless.
But it was his eyes that pinned me in place.
Those were intense. Intelligent. And assessing at the same time.
Like he could see straight through me.
"Lulu." His voice was deep, smooth, with a little bit of warmth in it. "Thank you for coming."
He moved toward me, and I forced myself not to step back.
Up close, he was even more overwhelming. He smelled woody and clean, which I was sure his cologne was expensive.
"Mr. Tan."
My voice came out steadier than I felt.
"Daniel, please." He smiled, and it transformed his face.
Suddenly, he looked less like a billionaire and more like… a man.
"Can I offer you something? Coffee? Tea?"
"Coffee would be great."
He gestured to a seating area near the windows—a low white couch and two chairs arranged around a glass table.
As I sat, he moved to a bar area and started preparing coffee himself. He didn't call any assistant, nor pressed a button for room service.
He actually made it for her.
"I hope the car was comfortable," he said over his shoulder.
"It was. Thank you."
"Good."
He poured two cups, added cream to one without asking.
—Wait.
'How did he know I like cream added?'
He returned with both cups, handing me mine, the one with the cream, then sat across from me in one of the chairs.
Not on the couch beside me, but on the chair, keeping his distance, being respectful.
I took a sip.
It was perfect. Exactly how I liked it.
"You're probably wondering why I asked you here," Daniel said.
"That's one way to put it."
I set the cup down carefully. "You offered me a maid job, then a senior analyst position. You know my salary, my education, my work history. So yes, I'm very curious about what's happening."
His smile widened slightly. "Direct. I like that."
"I don't have time for games, Mr. Tan."
"Daniel."
"Fine. Daniel."
I met his eyes.
"Why me? You could hire anyone. Why go through all this trouble for someone you've never met?"
He leaned back, studying me with those intense eyes.
"Because you're talented," he said simply. "And you're wasted where you are."
"How would you know?"
"I make it my business to know." He set his coffee down.
"Three years ago, you saved Jensen & Partners from a major audit disaster. You found discrepancies their senior accountants missed. You work twice as hard as anyone in your department and get half the recognition."
My throat went tight.
He continued, "You're also rebuilding your life after a difficult marriage. You're independent. Strong. Resilient. These are qualities I value."
"You had me investigated."
It wasn't a question.
"I did my research, yes. I don't make hiring decisions lightly."
No apology in his tone.
"This doesn't feel like a normal hiring process."
"Because it's not." He leaned forward slightly.
"Lulu, I'm not just offering you a job. I'm offering you an opportunity to work directly under someone I trust completely. Someone who will mentor you, challenge you, and help you grow."
"Who?"
"Her name is Vivian Zhang. She's my Director of Finance. Brilliant, experienced, and one of the best in the industry."
Vivian Zhang. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Maybe from business articles.
"And what would I be doing exactly?"
"Financial analysis for our investment division. High-level work. Real and direct impact. And—"
He paused. "A salary of three hundred thousand a year."
I nearly choked on my coffee.
"Three hundred—"
"Plus benefits, health insurance, stock options, performace bonuses."
My current salary was sixty-five thousand.
And he was offering nearly five times that amount.
"This is insane," I whispered, lowering my head, glancing at my locked fingers at my lap.
"It's fair market value for your skills."
His expression was serious now. "Lulu, you're worth more than you've been told. I'm simply willing to pay it."
I raised my head, staring at him, my mind was spinning.
This was too good to be true. It had to be. I was dreaming.
But God, I wanted it to be real.