เข้าสู่ระบบThe summit had done more for Mia's standing at the institute than six months of excellent work had managed on its own.Her supervisor has been measurably warmer since the presentation. The referrals have been coming in from departments that previously seemed unaware she existed.One day, when Mia's finishing the last of her session notes, her colleagues appear in the doorway."Mia." Federica leans against the frame. "We're going to that place on Via Torino. You're coming too?""I'm coming," Mia agrees, shutting her laptop.They walk out together into the early evening. Federica is mid-forties, the kind of colleague who notices everything and comments on roughly half of it. The younger one, Chiara, has been at the institute for eight months and is still in the phase of finding everything interesting."By the way," Federica says, as they wait near the entrance for their car, "I was going to ask you about Marco from the third floor. He asked about you."Mia looks at her. "He's only twent
The National Sports Medicine Summit in Milan isn't just a conference, it's a battlefield.For Mia, being invited to present her report on early rehabilitation strategies for professional knee injuries is the ultimate promotion. It is the key to the inner sanctum of elite sports medicine.She doesn't know why the opportunity fell into her lap—perhaps a peace offering from a superior who had pushed her too hard—but she isn't about to waste it.For weeks, Mia's life has been a grueling military drill. She is a ghost in her own apartment, buried under mountains of printed journals and hand-drawn biomechanical sketches. She anticipates every possible trap a critic might set, building a fortress of theory and case studies to protect her conclusions.But this "military" focus comes with a price.Across the Atlantic, Elias is feeling the chill of neglect. Ever since their last experimental video call, Mia has gone practically radio-silent. When she does call, it isn't for sweet nothings.No,
The blue-grey flicker of the computer screen reflects in Elias's eyes, a sharp contrast to the dimly lit study.Elias leans back in his chair, the weight of the Weston empire pressing against his shoulders more heavily than any defender on the ice ever could.He checks the participant list one last time before his executive assistant gives the nod."The board is assembled, Mr. Weston. You may begin."Elias looks up, his gaze narrowing as the faces of his European executives fill the screen.These are the titans—men who have spent twenty years entrenched in the Weston hierarchy, veterans who see the young heir as little more than a golden boy with a hockey stick. They have spent the last hour meticulously crafting a "localized" strategy for the Italian market expansion, their words polished, their smiles thin and experimental.They are testing him. He can feel their skepticism like a physical weight."Joseph," Elias interrupts, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Clarify your reporting
"Mia," Elias stares into her eyes. "Eighteen months. At most. Or less, if I can swing it. Once the contract extensions are signed and the Weston Group's restructuring is finalized, I'm coming for you."He speaks with the gravity of a king swearing an unbreakable oath before his deity. "I promise."Mia doesn't cry. They have spent too many nights tangled in each other's arms, whispering their fears and desires into the darkness, for tears to be necessary now.Instead, she tilts her head back, rising onto her tiptoes. Ignoring the hundreds of strangers rushing past, she presses a firm, lingering kiss against his cool lips."I'll be waiting," she whispers against his mouth. "See you in Milan."With a final, sharp nod, she pulls away. She doesn't look back. She knows that if she catches even a glimpse of those crystalline eyes, the carefully constructed wall of her resolve will crumble into dust.Elias stands frozen, a statue of longing amidst the human tide.Finally, he turns on his heel
Even without looking at her phone, Mia can practically feel the shock radiating from Alice across the ocean.Being kissed like that in front of a room full of academics and her own parents via video call sends a treacherous heat crawling up Mia's neck.The "Elias Weston Show" concludes its brief, high-voltage intermission as Mia's segment of the ceremony wraps up. She uses the massive bouquet as a floral shield, ducking her head and retreating to her seat with a pace that borders on a sprint.Elias doesn't stay long. Despite his desire to linger by her side, the Raiders have summoned their star player back for an emergency team matter. He fights it, stalling until the very last second, but eventually, even he has to concede.Mia, along with her parents on the small screen, gives him a little wave as he departs. She watches his broad shoulders disappear through the oak doors before turning her attention back to the stage, though her heart is still thumping a frantic rhythm against her
The rain has finally stopped, leaving behind the heavy, intoxicating scent of damp earth and cooling asphalt.For Mia, the air feels different today. The victory of the night before still hums in the city's veins, but for her, the clock is ticking.Every second in this city is now a treasure, a grain of sand slipping through her fingers before she embarks on the next chapter of her life.The hall itself is a sanctuary of academia, a sprawling space where a century of intellectual ambition seems to vibrate in the polished wood and high ceilings.Today, it belongs to the international scholars.The microphones are being tested, the lights are dimmed to a focused glow on the podium, and the air is thick with the murmur of a hundred different accents.Mia hasn't just finished her program, she has conquered it. In a single year, she shattered expectations, completing complex research projects with a speed and precision that left her peers in the dust.This ceremony isn't just a formality,







