“Hey, get out of the way, man, seriously, move it!” The high-pitched, arrogant voice cut through the already tense atmosphere of the crowded elevator in the bustling  Thompson Tower in downtown Chicago.

“How dare you lay a hand on an old man?” another clear, firm voice responded, surprising everyone. “The elevator was already overloaded, and that was the moment you got in. If anyone has to get out, it should be you.”

The woman who spoke, a hard-featured blonde in an expensive power suit, turned sharply.
“Who do you think you are, telling me to leave? Do you know who I am? Or my direct connection to  Michael Thompson , the president himself?” Her eyes, narrowed to slits, glared at the newcomer with contempt. “I don’t care who you are. Apologize to him right now.”

A young woman,  Emily Carter , blinked. Is this woman blind? How dare she openly confront  Sophia Reed , the star senior manager of Thompson Enterprises? Emily knew Sophia had a bad reputation, and there were interviews for many hopefuls that day, including her.
“She’s here for an interview,” a nervous observer muttered. “She already blew it by offending Sophia.”

Emily shook her head slightly.  It’s not worth it , she thought, and turned to the old man who still looked dazed.
“Sir, are you okay?” she asked in a soft voice, showing genuine concern.

He smiled weakly.
“I’m fine, thank you, miss. And I’m glad you are, too.” He stopped, looking at her warmly. “What’s your name, dear?”

—Emily Carter.

“Do you work here at Thompson Enterprises?” he asked, his gaze fixed on hers.

“No, sir. I actually came for an interview,” Emily replied with a hopeful smile.

He smiled broadly.
“Well, I believe in you, Emily. I’m sure you’ll make it.”

His words, so simple, gave Emily an unexpected warmth.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied just as the elevator bell rang and the doors opened.

The crowd filed out, leaving Emily and a few others on their way to the HR floor.
“I wonder if we’ll meet Mr. Thompson today,” someone next to her murmured.
“Why would I attend nobodies’ interviews?” another mocked. “Unless you make it to the executive office, you’ll hardly be able to interact with President Thompson.”

“Emily Carter?” a clear voice called from reception.
“It’s me,” she answered, stepping forward.
“Go to your interview.”

Meanwhile, in a glass penthouse in New York overlooking Central Park,  Michael Thompson , CEO of Thompson Enterprises, was on the phone in frustration.
“Mr. Johnson, our staff wasn’t at JFK to pick up Grandpa. Did you check his old house in Brooklyn Heights? It’s not there either. Damn Grandpa! Are you still recovering? Why the hell did you rush back to the U.S. without warning?”

A gruff voice boomed on the other end:
“You have the nerve to ask me? It’s been a whole year, Michael! A year since you promised to introduce me to my daughter-in-law. Where is she? Did you even get married?”

Michael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Grandpa, I showed you the marriage certificate.”

—Just the cover, kid! Do you think I’m senile? I don’t want any papers, I want to see it. If I don’t see it, I swear… I’ll die right here!

Michael gave in, knowing that resistance was useless.
“Okay, okay. If you promise to recover, I’ll introduce you. A month, okay? That’s all you have.”

The old man snorted, reluctantly agreeing, and added,
“Oh, and a girl named Emily Carter had an interview at your company today. Hire her.”

Michael raised an eyebrow.
“Grandpa, our company hires based on merit, you know that.”

—If you made it to the interview, that already shows ability. That girl, Emily Carter… she’s kind and beautiful. I like her. A lot.

Michael stifled another sigh.
“Okay, okay. I’ll hire her. Happy now?”

In Chicago, Emily entered the interview room. She nervously greeted the panel and handed over her resume.

At the head of the table was Sophia Reed. He smiled disdainfully when he saw her.
“Oh, what a coincidence.”

Emily felt her heart sink.  I’m lost.

“Get out of here,” Sophia ordered, waving her hand.

“He hasn’t even seen my resume,” Emily replied with a flash of rebellion.

—I don’t need to see it. Trash like you doesn’t belong here.

At that moment, the door opened. Michael Thompson entered, imposing, his every step imposing silence.

Emily, outraged, couldn’t hold back:
“You’re rejecting me just because I confronted you in the elevator, aren’t you?”

Sophia smirked.
“So what if that’s true? You humiliated an old man, and that was wrong.”

“And if I could, I’d do it again,” Emily replied firmly. “With interviewers like you, I’d rather give up.”

Sophia shrugged.
“It’s up to you.”

Michael, who had been watching silently, finally spoke. His eyes fixed on Emily.
“Who is Emily Carter?”

“It’s me,” she answered in surprise.

He flipped through the discarded resume.
“Did you study design? Does our design department need more staff?”

“We’re full, sir,” a manager was quick to reply.

—Then start her as a secretarial assistant. Alex Johnson, take care of her admission.

“Yes, sir,” Alex replied, confused, leading Emily out of the room.

Sophia glared at her.
“That woman is already trying to seduce Thompson. I’ll get her payback…”

Later, at the office, Emily was barely settling in when a rude voice sounded:
“You’re the new ‘pretty girl in the office,’ huh?”

It was  Ryan Patel , head of marketing, who approached with a leering look and tried to touch her arm.

“What are you doing?” Emily slapped him away.

Ryan opened his eyes in outrage.
“You dare hit me!?”

“You harassed me. A slap was mercy,” Emily replied firmly.

Sophia suddenly appeared, shouting,
“Mr. Thompson! Look what’s going on here!”

Michael walked out of his office, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”

Emily didn’t hesitate:
“He harassed me! He touched me!”

Ryan’s expression changed instantly.
“No, Mr. Thompson! She used me to climb the ladder. She was the one who hinted at me. Who let this manipulative woman in? Fire her now!”

Emily, furious, pointed at him:
“You hired her!”

Michael was silent for a moment, a strange sparkle in his eyes.

Ryan, believing he had won, smiled arrogantly.

Michael spoke in a cold, decisive voice:
“Get out. Did you hear me? Get out!”

Emily flinched.
“Why fire me if he was clearly the one who harassed me?”

Michael sighed, massaging his temples.
“I meant him. Not you.”