Chapter 1 – Ice CEO, Hot Mess

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Elara’s POV – Morning Chaos

Elara Monroe had one simple goal for Monday: survive.

Easy in theory. Impossible in practice. Hale Corp was buzzing like a caffeine-fueled beehive, and she was juggling files, her laptop bag, and a dangerously full cup of coffee like some kind of caffeinated acrobat. One misstep and she’d be soaked in latte, dignity ruined, and possibly on a client’s bad side.

She made it down the hallway and pressed the elevator button with one hand while shoving a stack of reports against her chest with the other. A stray paper nearly flew to the ground, and she panicked.

“Not today,” she muttered, catching it just in time. “I will not die in coffee puddles. Not today.”

The elevator doors slid open.

And there he was.

Adrian Hale. Human iceberg. Professional nightmare in a perfectly tailored suit. His expression was colder than Antarctica, dark hair slicked back, eyes sharp enough to cut glass, and an aura that screamed: don’t breathe near me unless you want regret.

She froze.

“Are you getting in, or do you plan on blocking the elevator all morning?” His clipped voice made her coffee wobble.

“R-right… sorry!” she squeaked, shoving herself inside and clutching her files like a lifeline.

He glanced at her briefly, then returned to his phone. Elara didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. Invisible was safe.

Her brain scrambled. Do I look like I’m going to spill the coffee? Do I look like I’m going to trip? Do I look… human?

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Elara’s POV – Desk Disaster

Once she made it to her floor, she bolted to her desk, almost tripping on her own bag. She dumped the files in a neat pile—well, as neat as possible while hyperventilating—and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants.

A printer jammed. Someone sneezed. Phones rang off the hook. She muttered to herself, juggling sticky notes and urgent emails.

“Monday,” she whispered, “you are officially canceled.”

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By lunchtime, Elara was exhausted. Chloe Rivera and Maya Sterling, her best friends and unofficial chaos coordinators, were waiting at the water cooler.

“Elara! Survived the ice emperor?” Chloe squealed, nearly tipping her latte in excitement.

Elara groaned, collapsing into the lounge chair. “Barely. I think his eyebrows might be literal icicles.”

Maya smirked. “You mean the man who terrifies interns with a single glance?”

Chloe leaned in conspiratorially. “He looked at you longer than usual today. Sparks, girl. SPARKS!”

Elara choked on her latte. “Excuse me?”

Chloe waved a chocolate bar at her. “For survival.”

Elara smiled despite herself. Her best friends always made the frozen tundra that was Adrian Hale’s office tolerable.

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Elara’s POV – Afternoon Madness

The afternoon passed in a blur of panic emails, printer jams, and frantic coworker collisions. She nearly spilled coffee twice. One intern slammed into her chair and muttered, “Sorry, sorry!”

Elara muttered back, “I survive this chaos daily. It’s fine. Totally fine.”

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, she noticed Adrian walking past her desk. Not that she looked at him, of course. She was busy. Filing. Multitasking. Staying alive.

She felt a brief brush of awareness—he was… somewhere in her peripheral vision? She shook her head. Focus. Invisible. Safe.

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Adrian’s POV – Observing Elara

Adrian Hale did not notice Elara in a romantic sense. He noticed efficiency—or lack thereof. Precision—or chaos.

He observed her from across the office. She carried three folders, a laptop, and a coffee cup. Most people would have dropped everything by now. She did not.

Not that he cared about her survival. He cared about the pattern: she handled the morning’s chaos without stopping, without whining, without complaining. And that… annoyed him slightly.

Competent, he noted mentally. Efficient. Fragile, maybe. Distractingly organized.

He didn’t notice her cheeks flushing or her frantic muttering. He didn’t care. She was part of the office ecosystem, like the printers or the copier.

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Elara’s POV – Heading Home

By five o’clock, she was ready to collapse. Files packed, laptop secured, coffee long gone, and dignity mostly intact. She headed to the elevator.

And of course… Adrian was already there.

She froze. Files clutched. Her heart… not fluttering. No. Nothing. She was fine. Invisible again. Safe.

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Adrian’s POV – Elevator Observation

Adrian glanced at her briefly. Not interest. Not admiration. Observation. She moved efficiently, without error, but with a flustered, human touch.

Efficient. Human. Slightly flustered. Data logged.

No more. Nothing else. She wasn’t… notable. She was an employee, one of many, slightly more chaotic than average, but ultimately irrelevant.