The clatter of high heels on marble floors echoed through the pristine lobby of Kaya Designs. Areeba adjusted her bag strap nervously, glancing at the towering glass walls that seemed to mirror her apprehension. This was no ordinary company. Landing a part-time job here would be nothing short of a miracle.
She approached the reception desk, her neatly printed résumé clutched tightly in her hand. "Excuse me, I'm here for the intern interview," she said, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach.
Before the receptionist could reply, a voice interrupted from behind. "Oh, you're here for that job?"
She turned sharply to see a man leaning casually against the pillar. He looked young, perhaps in his early thirties, dressed in a fitted blazer and carrying an air of relaxed confidence. His brown eyes held a flicker of mischief as they met hers.
"Yes," she replied, standing taller, "and I hope it's worth the effort."
The man smirked. "Well, good luck. The boss here is a real piece of work. Rude, demanding, impossible to please. Honestly, I don't know why anyone would want to work under him."
Areeba blinked, surprised by his candor. "Really? That bad?"
He nodded solemnly, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if suppressing a laugh. "Worst boss you'll ever meet. But hey, it's a designer company. Prestige comes at a price."
Something in his tone made her laugh despite herself. "Well, I don't have much choice. This scholarship doesn't exactly pay for my groceries. If it means putting up with a tyrant, so be it."
The man straightened, extending a hand. "I'm Emir, by the way. I work here."
"Areeba," she replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but warm, his expression unreadable.
"Well, Areeba," Emir said, stepping back, "good luck in there. Just... try not to mention anything about the boss being a tyrant."
Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving her staring after him, puzzled by the faint smirk still lingering on his face.
It wasn't until that evening, back at the house where she was staying, that the truth came crashing down.
"You met Emir Kaya?" the son of the family exclaimed, eyes wide. "He's not just some employee. He owns Kaya Designs. He is the boss!"
The room seemed to spin as Areeba sank into her chair. Her mind raced, replaying every word she had said to him earlier. Rude? Demanding? A tyrant? She had said it all, and to his face.
Somewhere in the city, Emir was probably laughing
Chapter 2: A Test of Nerves
Morning at Kaya Designs
Sila stood at the towering entrance of Kaya Designs headquarters, her hands gripping her bag tightly. The sleek glass doors reflected her nervous expression, and the weight of the previous day's revelation bore heavily on her mind.
He's the boss… The thought echoed, mocking her.
Taking a deep breath, she walked in, trying to project an air of confidence. The lobby buzzed with employees and visitors, their voices blending into a low hum. But all sound seemed to fade when her eyes fell on Emir.
He was standing by the reception, talking to the receptionist. Today, he looked more composed but no less imposing.
His gaze shifted, landing squarely on her. A knowing smirk appeared on his face as if he'd been expecting her.
"Miss Sila," he called, his deep voice cutting through the commotion.
Heads turned toward her, and the color rose to her cheeks. Her legs felt heavy, but she forced them to move, stepping closer.
"Yes, Mr. Kaya?" she replied, her tone as steady as she could manage.
"You're on time," he said with a faint smile. "Impressive. Follow me."
She trailed after him, her heart pounding as they entered the elevator. The silence between them was suffocating, broken only by the soft ding of the floor numbers changing.
"You look nervous," he remarked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.
"I'm not," she lied, keeping her eyes fixed on the elevator doors.
"Good," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Because this is just the beginning."
The Interview Room
The meeting room was a testament to modern elegance, its glass walls offering a breathtaking view of Istanbul's skyline. Inside, a panel of executives sat with cool, assessing expressions.
"This is Miss Sila Khan," Emir introduced her, his tone formal and businesslike. "She's here for the internship interview."
Sila squared her shoulders, stepping forward. Despite her nerves, she greeted the panel confidently. The questions came quickly—about her experience, goals, and how she handled stress—and she answered with as much poise as she could muster.
All the while, she felt Emir's gaze on her, an unseen pressure that made her pulse race. He stood leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Later That Evening: At Murat's House
Sila barely had time to drop her bag before Murat knocked on her door.
"How did it go with the tyrant boss?" he teased, his grin wide.
"Don't remind me," Sila groaned, flopping onto her bed.
Murat laughed, sitting on her study chair. "Not everyone calls Emir Kaya a tyrant and lives to tell the tale."
"I don't know what he's up to," she muttered, grabbing a pillow. "But he definitely enjoyed watching me squirm today."
"Maybe he likes you," Murat teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Or maybe he just enjoys tormenting people," Sila shot back, throwing the pillow at him.
Murat caught it, still laughing. "Relax. At least you have the job now."
"Yeah," she said, her tone softening. "Thanks to God, I do."
She leaned back, her eyes distant. "Even if I can't afford the kind of clothes they wear…"
Murat leaned forward, his voice light. "If you wore those clothes, maybe Mr. Emir would fall for you."
"Murat!" she exclaimed, throwing another pillow.
Dinner Time
The aroma of spices filled the air as Murat's mother set the table. Her calm, nurturing presence always made Sila feel at home.
"Sila, come eat!" Murat's mother called, smiling warmly.
As they gathered at the table, Murat couldn't resist teasing. "Mom, guess where Sila got a job?"
"Where?" his mother asked, curious.
"At Kaya Designs!"
His mother's eyes widened. "Oh, that's a prestigious company! Their CEO, though… I've heard he's a bit of a tyrant."
Sila's face flushed. "I'll try not to upset him," she mumbled.
Murat laughed. "Too late for that, Mom. She already did."
"What?" his mother exclaimed, looking at Sila in shock.
"She mistook him for an employee and praised his boss," Murat explained, barely containing his laughter.
Sila groaned. "I didn't know it was him!"
Murat's mother placed a reassuring hand on Sila's arm. "Tomorrow, apologize to him. Tell him you didn't know."
"I will," Sila promised, though she dreaded the thought.
Murat's Departure
After dinner, Murat stood, checking his watch. "I've got a meeting. Small company, big responsibilities," he joked.
Sila smiled, watching him hurry out. "Allah Hafiz!" she called after him.
Murat's mother turned to Sila, her voice gentle. "Don't forget to apologize, dear. You're working at a good company now. Make the most of it."
"I will," Sila said softly, determination flickering in her eyes.
But deep down, she couldn't shake the memory of Emir's intense gaze or the way it made her feel.