Chapter 2: a dose of reality

The cool, crispness of the morning air filtered in through the open windows of the Han mansion as Lianna sat at the breakfast table, the tips of her fingers tapping a rhythmic beat onto the polished wood. Her father sat opposite her, sipping his tea in a nonchalant manner, eyes never leaving the morning paper held in his hands.

"Good morning , Father," Lianna said, her voice laced with a mix of assurance and defiance. Her mind was prepared for the battle ahead. Today she was to officially begin her journey-one year to prove she could stand on her own.

Chairman Han lowered the paper, focusing his steely gaze on her. Silently, he reached into his suit pocket and laid the black card—her limitless credit card—on the table in front of him. The very symbol of her coddled existence.

"You won't be needing this anymore," he said, his tone indifferent, yet deliberative.

Lianna looked at the card, a trick of anxiety in her stomach. She had lived her whole life on that piece of plastic. It was a representation of everything she was used to: the extravagant shopping sprees, the luxury vacations, dinners at five-star restaurants. All these were going to be taken away.

She tried forcing a smile. "I'll manage."

Chairman Han set his cup down with a soft clink. "You'll need to move out. I'll give you a month. After that, the deal begins." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "No help from anyone. That includes friends, family, or any. favors."

Lianna's heart skipped a beat, but she refused to show weakness. "I understand."

"Good." He returned to his paper, apparently terminating the conversation in his mind. In Lianna's mind, though, it had only just begun.

---

The rest of the week was a string of rejection and failure-things Lianna was not used to. With her master's in business, among years of prestigious schooling, she found that getting a job would be a cakewalk. How wrong she was.

She cast her net as wide as possible, from high-end corporations to even the smallest firms. For the first time in her life, she had been pushed into the real world, out of the cocoon of privilege that had sheltered her so far.

150 applications. 7 days. Just 3 interviews. Each one-a disaster.

She sat in the last interview room, fidgeting with her hands, trying to maintain poised composure, as she had been taught since childhood.

"Miss Han," said the interviewer, a stern woman in her mid-40s, glancing up from her notes, "I'm afraid you're overqualified for this position."

Lianna blinked, not getting it. "Overqualified?"

She nodded, the smile tight. "You have a master's degree in business. We're looking for a person with less experience to fill this position."

Lianna left the building, disbelieving her ears. Her heels sounded loud against the sidewalk. Overqualified? How could that be a problem?

As days turned into weeks, she started to shed some confidence. The rejections mounted, and with each, the weight of her father's challenge weighed heavier upon her shoulder. Where had she gone so wrong?

A week later, Lianna sat in her small apartment that she had rented to get a head start on moving out of the mansion, feeling utterly at an all-time low. Her perfectly manicured nails drummed against the desk while the pile of unopened rejection emails stared back from her screen.

"I just can't believe it," she said to herself as she browsed through job postings once more. She had thought the world would open up its doors for a person with her education. After all, wasn't she raised to lead, to be successful? At least, that was the message the world was giving her.

Her phone rang across the room, piercing her thoughts. She stared at the screen and did not recognize the number.

"Hello?" Her voice was flat, tired of everything.

"Miss Han? It's the human resources department at Sheng Global Industries. We got your application, and we'd like to invite you down for an interview. Can you make this afternoon?"

Lianna's heart skipped a beat. Sheng Global Industries? One of the largest and most powerful conglomerates in the city? How was it even on her radar?

"Y-yes, of course! I can come in," she stammered, trying to regain her composure.

"Excellent. We'll see you at 2 PM."

Lianna hung up, her heart racing. This was her chance-perhaps her only chance-to finally break through the wall of rejection she had been facing.

---

By 1:45 PM, Lianna stood outside the towering glass building of Sheng Global Industries. Her nerves clawed inside her gut to get out and devour her. The structure loomed over her head, silent as a judge, reflecting the afternoon sun off its gleaming windows.

She inhaled deeply and stepped into the lobby, her heels hitting the polished marble floor with confident clicks. The receptionist welcomed her with a professional smile and escorted her to the 15th floor, where the interview would take place.

The elevator ride felt eternal, with each second passing by heavier still. Finally, the doors slid open and Lianna entered a sleek, modern office space where the receptionist pointed her to the conference room.

Inside, a man in his late 30s sat at the head of the table, his dark hair combed, his expression unreadable. He was the CEO's right-hand man, she had learned. Someone who had the ear of one of the most powerful men in the industry.

"Miss Han," he greeted, rising from his seat and extending his hand.

She shook it, her own hand shaking slightly. "Thank you for the opportunity," she said, her voice as steady as possible.

The interview started, and for the first time in over a week, Lianna felt. ready. The questions flowed easily, responses sharp and confident. Not long into it, she had the feeling this interview was going much, much differently than the others.

After nearly an hour, he leaned back into his chair and a small, satisfied smile danced on his lips. "We have reviewed your qualifications, and though you may not have experience as a personal assistant, your business background is impressive. We are looking for someone sharp, quick on their feet, and able to handle the capricious nature of working for a CEO."

Lianna held her breath.

"Congratulations, Miss Han. The job is yours."

She could not believe it for one moment: hers was the job; she had pulled it off.

---

The instant she came out of that building, the weight of the last one week seemed to lift just a trifle. It wasn't much, but it was a start—a toehold in the world she was determined to conquer on her own.

Her phone buzzed once more. This time, it showed a message from her father.

*One week down, fifty-one to go.*

Lianna smirked. It was going to be a long year—but she was ready for it.

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