The new intern is a mogul Novels & Stories

“Yeah, he’s a looker, but blond hair and green eyes always seem a combination that grabs attention, especially here in New York where the Italians rule.” “Yes we do, girlie.” Gina laughed and pushed her shoulder against Mandy’s. “And don’t you forget it.” “Never.” Mandy stood in the kitchenette for a few more minutes before taking her leave. Paul seemed like a good guy, young and a little ballsy, but nice nonetheless. He had to be utterly brilliant at finance, or he would not have been given the intern position. Carl only brought in one each semester, from what Mandy understood. Thousands applied for the one position, which made for an interesting interview process. The poor kids outdid them

Dylan noticed my gaze and immediately pulled a sad face, apologizing meekly, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Grant. I shouldn't have gotten ahead of myself." Hearing this, Serena became even more protective and snapped at me unhappily. "Matthew Grant, what's with that attitude? I'm making a reasonable request for an employee, and that's wrong now?" I scoffed, feeling my anger rise just looking at her. "How is paying over ten thousand dollars a reasonable request? Serena, I've already been more than fair to Dylan. His fellow interns only make four thousand dollars!" Serena trembled with rage. She raised her chin and argued stubbornly, "But Dylan is the hardest working one among them, isn't he?

She paid for fast internet because she hated waiting. The headline hit her in the chest like a physical thing. **DISGRACED OMEGA RETURNS AS TECH MOGUL — INSIDERS CLAIM BILLIONAIRE'S RISE FUELED BY 'SPECIAL ARRANGEMENTS'** Below it, a photograph from her NovaTech IPO. She remembered the moment—she'd been looking at the trading floor, watching the numbers climb, and someone had caught her mid-expression. The camera angle was cruel. It made her look hungry. Desperate. Like someone who'd clawed her way up on her back instead of her hands.

LYRA’S POV “An internship,” I repeated, the sarcasm dripping from my voice. “At Blackwood Capital. The company that’s so prestigious and so exclusive. The one that told me I wasn’t even worth the time for a proper interview.” I took a step forward, my earlier hunger forgotten, replaced by a hot, sharp anger. “What’s the game? Is this some new way to humiliate me? Get me into the office and have everyone point and whisper? ‘There’s the stripper the bosses are fucking’?”

I say pretending like I am going to give him my bowl of food, but I pull it back to me. “Hey! That’s not fair,” he says, whining like a child. “Do you really think I would be nice to you, mister?” “Yeah, yeah, sure. For a minute I forgot who I am dealing with.” “Would you go away so I can eat in peace?” I say waving him off. “Aha! Bye, woman,” he says raising his hands. “Yes! Bye.” After I finish eating, I go outside and get into my burgundy G-wagon to drive to the office. I hope the CEO is a nice person because some of the new interns and I will be working closely with him.

Everest also got a frown. “My name is Taggart Kellent. As you all know, I’m the CEO of Excellor. I hope you can spend your entire internship program well and be part of Excellor in the future,” Taggart said in a short formal speech to welcome the interns. He was cold and expressionless. Hence, he was worried, but he stayed calm. Luke watched him from behind the interns. He knew that Taggart was looking for Pearl Rosenthal. Now, he was never going to find her anyway. Pearl should be dead, unfortunately.

In fact, it feels like I'm walking into some kind of spa and not an office. The secretaries behind the large dark wooden counter look so alike that I mistake them for twins. It turns out they aren't. They just have the same hairstyle and are wearing the same olive-colored dress. I would've guessed that they'd fawn over Igor and greet him flirtatiously but they're the only employees I've come across so far who openly show fear. "Bethany, Paula," he says when he nears them. I've never heard him use this voice before; it's full of authority and arrogance. "This is your new intern. Teach her what you know. Make sure she knows how to handle things by the end of the day."

“No… no, it’s yours. I mean, the company’s yours. You do whatever you want. It’s… yeah.” “Good,” he said, with a voice that made my soul leak from my pores. Why is the ground floor so far away? “We have a new intern,” he added casually. “You’ll handle her.” “Sure. Yes. Of course.” “No illicit affairs, though. Keep it professional, Mr. Keene.” He smiled—smiled—and turned to meet my eyes. Why is he doing this to me? “Yes, sir,” I croaked. “Have a lovely night. And don’t be late tomorrow,” he said as he stepped out as soon as the elevator's door opened.

"Isn't 800 bucks better? You can buy so many things with that." I stared at my phone and voted for the cash without hesitation. I couldn't help thinking, who in their right mind would pass on 800 dollars for some company-branded tarts? But less than a minute later, the intern in charge of tallying votes, Davin Holt, tagged me in the company group, saying, "Fabian, you're the only one in the department who picked the bonus. Did you vote wrongly?" I frowned. Before I could reply, his second message popped up.

Daniel Shaw paused for a beat, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Honey, it’s not April Fools’ Day.” “Cut it out. This isn’t funny.” I forced down the anger rising in my chest. “Sophia Blake, that new intern...” “Alright, I’ve got a meeting to prep for,” Daniel cut in. “We’ll talk after I’m done.” He hung up before I could finish. The dead hum on the line filled my ears, and all I could see was my sister’s tear-streaked face from a week ago.