The morning at Z.Y Empire was unusually still. The hum of the city below seemed muted, as if even the skyline feared what was about to unfold inside the building. Zain Yan stood in his luxurious office, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling windows, his green eyes cold and unreadable, reflecting the hazy Shenzhen skyline. His black suit clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, and his hands, tightly clasped behind his back, betrayed the tension coiling within him.
Behind him, Kian stepped lightly into the room, a thin blue folder tucked under one arm. His heartbeat was erratic, and a faint tremor ran down his spine.
"She is… that traitor Lu Kang's little treasure," Zain said, his voice like ice. "The one he hid from the world. And now… she walked straight to me."
Kian swallowed, unease gnawing at him. "Zain… what… what are you planning?"
A shadow of a wicked smile flickered across Zain's lips as he slowly turned, his piercing gaze locking onto Kian. "Kian, there's a certain thrill in letting someone climb to the clouds… only to pull the rug from beneath them. To catch a mouse in a trap, you need to tempt it with the scent of cheese. I will give Anya so much success… so much confidence… that she will revel in her achievements… and then… I will pull her down."
He laid a hand on a thick folder resting on his desk. "'Phoenix'—the project. Shenzhen's most high-profile wedding dress design. Give it to her."
Kian froze, eyes widening. "What? Zain… she's just a fresher! The Phoenix Project is our company's reputation. If she fails—"
Zain's fingers adjusted Kian's shirt collar with almost affectionate cruelty. "I don't care about failure, Kian. I only care about placing her where the fall will hurt the most."
💔 Kian's Dilemma and the 'Huan Jing Mission'
Zain stepped closer, lowering his voice, the weight of authority pressing on Kian's chest. "But this is not enough. I need to know everything—what is happening inside her home, when Lu Kang will act. For that… we will use Huan Jing."
Kian's face drained of color. "Huan Jing? She's Anya's best friend…"
"Exactly," Zain replied, a dangerous glint lighting his eyes. He tapped Kian on the shoulder. "Control Huan Jing, and you control every secret in her life. You will weave a web of affection. Every briefcase, every document, every movement—I want full access."
Kian's chest tightened. His heart ached seeing Anya's innocence and trust, yet he was caught between duty and morality. His voice came out dry, restrained. "I… I'll do it, Zain. I'll play the part. If you insist, I will make her… fall for me."
Zain's smirk widened, approval gleaming in his eyes. "Good. That is exactly what I need."
👗 Phoenix Project: Anya's New Challenge
Down the hall, Anya hummed softly at her desk. The lingering echoes of last night's encouragement gave her a tentative confidence. She was focused on her work when Kian approached, his face calm, though his eyes betrayed concern.
"Anya… the boss wants to see you in his office. There's something important," he said, his voice soft, careful.
Anya's eyes lit up, hope fluttering in her chest. "Really, sir? Was my presentation… okay yesterday?"
Stepping into Zain's office, Anya felt a chill brush over her. Zain swiveled his chair slowly, his gaze sharp, analyzing, piercing. The old, unreadable coldness masked the decades of revenge burning beneath.
"Miss Lu," he said, voice level but carrying an unmistakable edge, as he picked up a dust-covered file from his desk.
"So… you think you can call yourself a designer?" he asked, leaning slightly forward.
Anya gulped, her hands shaking slightly. "I… I'm ready to try, sir… whatever it takes."
Zain slammed the file onto the desk with a metallic thud. Dust billowed into the air, making Anya cough. She waved her hand in front of her face, her chest tightening.
"This project has remained unfinished for the past five years," Zain continued, stepping closer. His presence filled the room like a storm. "No one has ever completed it. You have forty-eight hours to deliver a complete blueprint and a new design."
He leaned even closer, his gaze flicking over her trembling form. "I've seen your work. I am giving you the most prestigious project in the company—the Phoenix Wedding Dress. If you succeed… the entire industry will know your name overnight."
Anya's mouth went dry. "M-me? But… I'm still learning…"
Zain straightened suddenly, closing the distance to the desk. The sharp scent of his cologne brushed against her senses, making her pulse quicken involuntarily. "Do you not trust yourself, Anya? I believe there's fire in you… prove it."
Her hands trembled as she clutched the file. "Thank you, sir. I… I won't disappoint you. My uncle will… he'll be so happy!"
The word uncle made Zain's jaw tighten. He bit back a reaction, keeping his dark expression intact. "Of course. He should be pleased."
Anya faltered, taking a tentative step back and almost tripping over her own feet as she left the office.
🏃♀️ Corridor: Kian's Concern
Outside, Huan Jing waited anxiously. "Anya! What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
Anya's steps faltered. "Forty-eight hours… he expects me to finish it in forty-eight hours…" Her voice broke.
Huan Jing's face paled. "He's crazy! Not even a whole team could finish that!"
Kian appeared silently beside them, noticing the file in Anya's hands. His eyes softened at the sight of her struggle.
"Miss Lu," he said quietly, bending slightly, handing her a small chocolate. "The boss is strict… but he respects hard work. If you need anything… the archive room has old maps and references that might help."
Anya blinked, taken aback by his kindness. She accepted the chocolate, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
Kian murmured, "Don't be afraid… sometimes sweet things help the brain work faster."
Huan Jing's face went scarlet, and Anya felt a glimmer of relief. She realized she wasn't entirely alone in this.
🏚️ Basement: Nightfall and Hard Work
Anya descended into the dim basement where the archive room lay. Cobwebs clung to the corners, dust danced in the narrow shafts of light, and the air was musty, heavy with age.
With a deep breath, she adjusted her glasses and turned on her phone's flashlight. She began rummaging through stacks of old papers, determined to find the elusive Phoenix Project files.
Hours passed, the clock ticking relentlessly. Her fingers ached from turning page after page. Her knees brushed against the cold concrete floor as she spread out the documents. Sweat clung to her forehead, her brows furrowed, eyes scanning each detail with precision.
Outside, the office fell silent. Only the faint hum of the elevators and the soft drip of condensation in the basement echoed.
👀 Zain Watching
Above, Zain's sharp eyes flicked to the basement CCTV screen. He saw her hunched over the papers, hands trembling but unwavering. Dust clung to her hair and skin, her face smeared with fatigue.
A cold chuckle escaped him. "Let's see… how long can innocence and determination survive in front of me, Anya? The blood of my family didn't cost so little… I will not let you escape so easily."
He straightened, grabbing his car keys. A dark plan brewed behind those green eyes as he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the faintest trace of his cologne lingering in the office.
💔 Kian's Silent Sympathy
Watching her struggle, Kian's heart twisted painfully. He felt a deep urge to protect her, to shield her from Zain's cruelty—but his loyalty to Zain restrained him.
Stepping quietly to the edge of the basement stairs, he murmured to himself, "Anya… hold on. I'll try to make sure you're safe. Somehow."
He didn't approach her directly, didn't intervene. But the soft chocolate in her hands, the small glimmer of encouragement in his eyes, was a silent promise.
Anya, exhausted, took a shaky breath, pressing her fingers to her temple. Her movements were deliberate yet trembling. She straightened her back, adjusted her glasses, and whispered to herself, "I can do this… I must do this."
Her fingers shook as she began sketching the first lines of the wedding dress blueprint, her hair falling over her face, sweat dripping from her brow. Every stroke was an act of defiance against Zain's cruel plan, every line a testament to her determination.
The night stretched on. Anya's body ached, yet she refused to stop. Her eyes, though weary, burned with quiet resolve. Somewhere above, Zain's eyes followed her progress—calculating, assessing, admiring in his twisted way, already plotting the moment he would test her limits.
The Phoenix Project was no longer just a design—it had become a battleground.