The deep midnight hours brought an eerie, majestic quiet to the high-rise floors of Thompson Tower. The aggressive roar of daily commerce had completely evaporated, leaving the vast, open-plan design department cloaked in long, velvet shadows and the rhythmic, low hum of the climate control systems. Emily sat hunched over a heavy drafting table, a single halogen desk lamp illuminating the sharp angles of her face as she worked relentlessly against the three-day deadline. Her shoulders ached with a deep, physical exhaustion, and her eyes burned from hours of staring at intricate line weights, but her independent spirit refused to let her falter. With a fierce, concentrated sweep of her charcoal pencil, she executed the final perimeter shading on her primary blueprint sketch.
“Done at last,” she whispered into the empty room, dropping the pencil onto the tray and leaning back to stretch her tight muscles, a quiet sense of creative pride flaring in her chest. “Just a few minor technical tweaks first thing tomorrow morning, and the blueprint will be flawless.”
“Pack up your things immediately, Emily Carter,” a deep, dry baritone suddenly boomed from the darkness of the executive corridor, causing her to flinch in surprise. Michael Thompson stepped into the pool of light, his tie slightly loosened and his powerful frame leaning against a structural pillar. He was narrowing his dark eyes at her with a perfect, deadpan imitation of Sophia’s signature hostility. “The second my department wins this international design contest, I will personally ensure you are permanently expelled from Thompson Enterprises for your sheer audacity.”
Emily let out a genuine, beautiful giggle, the exhausting tension melting from her posture as she recognized his playful mimicry. “You are an absolute menace, Mr. Thompson. Thank you for the motivational speech.”
“Let us vacate the building,” Michael murmured, his commanding register softening into a rare, protective warmth as he gathered her leather portfolio from the table. “I am personally escorting you to your transport. It is far too late for a representative of my firm to navigate the downtown streets alone.”
As they stepped through the towering glass revolving doors of the lobby, the crisp night air struck them, carrying the clean, wet scent of the nearby lake. They walked side by side across the pristine stone plaza, where a magnificent, illuminated tier fountain was cascading water into a wide marble basin under the moonlight. Emily paused near the granite edge, her artistic eye completely captivated by the way the underwater lights fractured through the moving currents, casting shifting, liquid geometric patterns across the dark stone. She watched a single droplet fall into the center of the pool, sending a series of flawless, concentric rings expanding across the surface.
Water. Ripples. A sudden, magnificent shock of pure inspiration ignited in her mind, completely rendering her previous white minimalist concept obsolete. The standard opaque white packaging screams clinical limitation, but a transparent, fluid canvas would honor the fluid, life-giving essence of female hydration.
“Mr. Thompson, you go ahead and navigate to the vehicle first,” Emily declared abruptly, her voice vibrating with a sudden, intense creative energy as she pivoted back toward the tower entrance. “I need to return to my workstation immediately. I am completely revising the entire blueprint draft from scratch.”
Michael’s brow furrowed into a deep line of executive disapproval, though an undercurrent of profound admiration gripped his chest. “Come back here, Emily. It is past midnight. You need to return to your residence and rest.”
“The creative process does not adhere to a standard corporate clock, sir,” she called back over her shoulder, her independent determination completely unyielding as she disappeared back through the glass doors.
The following morning, the primary executive conference room was packed to absolute capacity with board members, senior designers, and a sea of curious employees whispering frantically at the perimeter. The atmosphere was thick with hyper-vigilant corporate tension as Sophia Reed stepped forward to present her design concept on the massive digital monitors.
“This is the definitive design blueprint for our second-generation flagship portfolio,” Sophia announced with supreme confidence, her posture rigid as she gestured toward a sleek, clinical render. “The concept utilizes an overall white theme, pure and minimalist, which deliberately emphasizes the absolute formula purity and product integrity of the serum itself. This is my original masterwork, executed through days of relentless research.”
A low murmur of sycophantic approval rippled through the back rows of the design staff. “Wow, this competition is entirely pointless,” a junior layout artist whispered loudly to her colleague. “Let us just declare Sister Sophia the absolute winner right now.”
“Exactly,” the coordinator agreed smoothly. “Her composition is utterly flawless.”
Sophia basked in the collective flattery, a cold, predatory smile forming on her lips as she turned her freezing gaze directly onto Emily, who was standing calmly near the display easel. “This is my exclusive composition!” Sophia suddenly shrieked, her voice turning sharp and venomous as she executed her pre-planned plagiarism trap before the entire executive board. “Emily Carter, have some basic professional shame! I worked three long days and nights on this masterpiece! Don’t you dare assume your temporary secretary position gives you the legal right to steal my intellectual property! A classless design thief like you is an absolute cancer to this entire industry! Get out of Thompson Enterprises this exact second!”
“I completely agree! Expel Emily Carter from the conglomerate immediately!” the room erupted into a chaotic buzz of pre-planned corporate condemnation, the sycophants eager to secure favor with the senior manager.
“Silence!” Michael Thompson commanded, his deep baritone slamming across the boardroom like a physical gavel, instantly flattening the ambient noise. His sharp, intelligent eyes locked onto Emily’s unbothered expression. “Emily Carter, the presentation parameters dictate absolute transparency. You claim this white minimalist draft is your design? Where exactly is your baseline proof?”
“My initial conceptual design did indeed utilize a white theme for pure simplicity and minimalist aesthetics,” Emily began, her voice remaining exceptionally clear, steady, and entirely devoid of panic as she stepped into the center of the room.
“Stop parroting my exact vocabulary, you cheap fraud!” Sophia snapped, her knuckles turning white against the podium.
“Like our premium skincare lines eliminating deeper cellular toxins, our firm prides itself on selecting entirely natural ingredients,” Emily continued smoothly, completely ignoring the manager’s frantic interruption as she captured the undivided attention of the board members. “But a truly sophisticated designer must understand that since women are fundamentally made of water, absolute deep hydration must always come first in premium skincare. Our second-generation serum possesses a significantly better moisturization matrix with a remarkably lightweight texture. Therefore, I abandoned the clinical limitation of opaque white. I made the packaging entirely transparent, incorporating intricate, fluid water ripple patterns into the glass topography to reflect the light natively.”
With a dramatic, graceful sweep of her hand, she pulled the velvet cloth away from her presentation easel, revealing her final revised masterpiece. The rendering was spectacular—a fluid, translucent bottle that captured the living essence of moving water, its structural lines radiating a timeless, high-society elegance that made Sophia’s clinical white container look completely archaic and generic.
The entire boardroom went completely, utterly dead silent. The board members leaned forward in absolute, unadulterated awe, a collective murmur of profound appreciation rapidly replacing the hostility. “This is a magnificent triumph… it is entirely obvious that Emily Carter possesses the superior design intelligence here,” a senior director whispered to his colleague.
“Bullshit! Sophia’s traditional design is clearly superior!” Sophia yelled, her face turning a violent, desperate shade of red as she realized her entire operational matrix was shattering in real-time. She lunged toward the easel, glaring at Emily with pure hatred. “This treacherous woman! How dare you go behind my back and secretly manufacture an entirely separate second version to humiliate my department?!”
“Who exactly possesses the better creative output here?” Emily asked calmly, turning her torso to address the collective floor with a quiet, independent pride. “I trust every discerning professional in this room can judge the structural truth for themselves.”
Michael Thompson’s face relaxed into a look of deep, immense satisfaction, a rare, proud smile gracing his handsome features as he stood tall at the head of the mahogany table. “The blind evaluation is officially concluded. Emily Carter, your status is permanently transitioned to full-time executive staff. Starting tomorrow morning, you will assume your duties as a senior designer in our division.”
“Thank you immensely, President Thompson,” Emily replied, her eyes locking onto his with a quiet, shared intensity.
“This meeting is officially adjourned,” Michael announced clearly, his voice carrying an undeniable executive weight that brooked zero debate. “Furthermore, I have a major structural announcement to deliver to the floor. Based on the documented performances of Sophia Reed and Emily Carter throughout this competitive cycle, the executive office has decided that Emily Carter will immediately serve as the official leader of design team two, completely overseeing our new product development. Former design director Sophia Reed is hereby demoted to team three leader. Let us give our new leader a proper round of applause.”
Sophia stood frozen near the podium, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of absolute, paralyzing humilation crashed over her. “She… she actually won the selection,” she whispered frantically, her hands trembling as the surrounding staff reluctantly began to clap.
“What exactly is there to be proud of, Emily Carter?” Sophia suddenly scoffed loudly, attempting to violently reconstruct her shattered authority as the room began to clear. She stepped into Emily’s path, her voice dripping with a venomous, desperate malice. “Everyone on this floor knows you simply slept your way up to this position! First you targeted manager Anderson, getting unceremoniously beaten by his high-society wife when you were caught in that downtown cafe! You used your physical body to reach my professional level! How dare you act superior to this department? You are absolutely nothing special, just a temporary plaything!”
Emily did not flinch. She calmly pulled her new mobile device from her blazer pocket, her expression a mask of pure, razor-sharp composure. “I have just recorded every single syllable of your slanderous accusations on this secure digital drive, Sophia. President Thompson possesses an absolute, well-documented hatred for toxic gossipers on his floor. If he reviews this audio manifest, you and your sycophants will be escorted from this tower by security before noon.” She leveled a freezing, independent glare at the trembling manager. “Sophia, look at your current reality. Apologize to me right now before the entire remaining staff, and I will consider letting this legal violation slide.”
She began a cool, rhythmic countdown, her voice echoing in the quiet room. “Three… two…”
Sophia swallowed exceptionally hard, her eyes darting to the panicked faces of the gossiping coordinators behind her. The sheer fear of an immediate, disgraceful termination broke her remaining resistance. “I am… deeply sorry, Emily,” she mumbled into her collar, her face burning with an intense mortification.
“And the rest of you?” Emily demanded, her gaze sweeping over the silent sycophants.
“We are incredibly sorry, Leader Emily,” they chorused in a hushed, thoroughly humiliated unison.
“That is a remarkably better operational tone,” Emily said smoothly, stowing her device in her pocket with absolute grace.
Michael Thompson walked past the threshold of the room, his eyes tracking the swift, commanding way she had completely mastered the conflict. He cleared his throat, shifting the energy back to dry business. “I am navigating a high-priority corporate flight to Seattle for an international summit tomorrow morning. Emily Carter, prepare your personal manifests to accompany me as my primary strategic liaison.”
Sophia’s eyes widened to dinner plates, her composure shattering completely as she intercepted Emily in the executive elevator corridor a moment later. “Mr. Thompson always took me as his exclusive partner on those West Coast business trips before!” she hissed, her fingers clawing into the drywall. “What underhanded tactics did you deploy to force him to choose your presence? Why you instead of a veteran director?!”
“Because from a strictly professional metric, Sophia,” Emily replied, a beautiful, confident smirk gracing her lips as she stepped into the elevator car, “I am simply better than you.”
“Lies! You are actively sleeping with Mr. Thompson!” Sophia accused frantically, trying to block the closing brass doors.
“How exactly did you possess such intimate knowledge of my schedule that afternoon, Sophia?” Emily shot back, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper that caused the manager to freeze. A razor-sharp, lethal glint flared in her intelligent eyes. “You were the anonymous individual who gave me Mr. Thompson’s exact hotel location that day. You spiked his private drink with that unauthorized chemical sedation at the Champs Hotel, didn’t you?”
Sophia’s face instantly drained of all color, her lips trembling as an unearthly paleness washed over her sharp features. “What absolute nonsense are you babbling?! I have a close high-society acquaintance who witnessed your betrayal firsthand!”
“What acquaintance exactly?” Emily pressed relentlessly, her posture completely dominating the narrow space as the doors began to slide shut. “The hotel waiter whom you heavily compensated to lock me inside Room 506?!”
“What waiter?!” Sophia stammered frantically, her voice pitching high with an absolute, terrifying panic as her operational tracks were completely exposed. “I have absolutely zero idea what you are referencing! Stop framing me for your scandals!”
Michael Thompson’s heavy, rhythmic footsteps suddenly echoed down the marble corridor, cutting through the sharp tension of the elevator bay like an immediate atmospheric anchor. The brass doors had barely begun to hum when Emily caught the dark, discerning gaze of her billionaire employer sweeping across the threshold. Sensing the dangerous shift in corporate winds, Emily executed a flawless, instantaneous pivot, smoothing her expression into a mask of pure executive efficiency as she turned away from a thoroughly panicked Sophia Reed.
“President Thompson,” Emily announced, her voice remaining exceptionally clear, steady, and entirely professional. “The comprehensive travel dossiers and strategic briefs for our upcoming departure to Seattle have been fully compiled and formatted for your immediate review.”
“Hmm,” Michael murmured, his deep baritone carrying a low, unreadable resonance as he accepted the leather-bound folder from her hands. He didn’t offer a single word of praise, but his sharp eyes lingered on her face for a long second, analyzing her cool composure before he turned his massive torso squarely toward his personal assistant. “Alex Johnson, give me a precise operational update on the forensic audit. Have we successfully identified the security breach from the hotel corridor?”
Alex adjusted his spectacles, his expression tight and hyper-vigilant as he tapped his data tablet. “We have officially identified one low-level suspect within the hospitality staff who accepted an unauthorized cash transfer that afternoon, sir. However, our internal security detail strongly suspects there is a highly calculated, shadowy puppet master manipulating the financial trail from behind the scenes.”
Emily kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, but out of the corner of her eye, she meticulously cataloged the sudden, violent micro-expressions flitting across Sophia’s pale features. The manager’s chest was heaving with shallow, frantic breaths, her fingers clawing into the strap of her designer handbag with a terrifying level of guilt. The operational tracks were screaming Sophia’s name, and Emily knew it was only a matter of tight, deliberate time before the legal trap snapped completely shut around her supervisor.
“Mr. Thompson, your premium morning roast is prepared exactly to your liking,” Sophia suddenly interjected, her voice pitching into a high, frantic purr as she desperately thrust a porcelain cup into the clearing to divert the executive inquiry away from the investigation.
Michael accepted the beverage with a freezing, remote nod that offered zero personal warmth. “I will investigate the exact parameters of this poisoning matter thoroughly until the culprit is behind bars,” he stated, his voice dropping into a dangerous register that caused a visible shudder to roll through Sophia’s shoulders. He shifted his attention back to Emily. “Go gather your personal belongings and finalize the design manifests, Miss Carter. We depart for the terminal first thing in the morning.”
“Understood, sir,” Emily replied smoothly, turning on her heel to navigate toward the exit bay.
The late afternoon sun had completely vanished behind the towering, jagged silhouettes of the Chicago skyscrapers, leaving the narrow alleys surrounding the corporate plaza cloaked in a heavy, slate-gray twilight. Emily stepped out of the service entrance, her long winter coat pulled tight against the biting wind as she carried her drafting supplies toward the main avenue. Her mind was entirely consumed by the dizzying reality of her rapid promotion, her thoughts spinning so fast she failed to notice the heavy, rhythmic scraping of leather boots shadowing her movements from the darkness of a structural alcove.
“Well, look at what we have here,” a slick, menacing voice suddenly leered from the shadows, shattering the quiet of the corridor. A tall, heavily built man with an aggressive posture stepped directly into her path, his eyes locked onto her form with a crude, predatory appreciation. “Hey, gorgeous. Why don’t you step out of the cold for a minute and let me show you something truly special?”
“Step away from me right now, pervert,” Emily commanded, her independent pride flaring hot against her cheeks as she instantly recoiled, dropping her portfolio into a defensive stance.
Before she could clear the perimeter of the alley, a second individual materialized from behind a heavy industrial container, cutting off her escape route completely. The first attacker lunged forward, his broad fingers clamping aggressively onto the fabric of her coat sleeve as he violently pulled her back into the darkness. “Sweetheart, stop making a scene!” the thug sneered, his breath hot against her face. “Grab her bag! Don’t let this little luxury bird escape into the light!”
“You want money, correct?!” Emily shouted, her jaw locking with absolute defiance as she fiercely struggled against his heavy grip, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. “I possess premium financial cards in my coat! Take whatever wealth you require and release me immediately!”
“Did I say this assignment was about mere chump change, sister?” the leader laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed off the damp brick walls. “Your little corporate petty cash won’t even cover our baseline standard.”
“What do you think you are doing?!”
The terrifying, thunderous roar sliced clean through the dark alley like a lightning strike. Michael Thompson burst into the corridor like an unchained force of nature, his face a mask of unadulterated, lethal fury. He had tracked her transport departure from the main monitor logs, his protective instincts overriding every shred of traditional executive decorum. He marched into the space, his imposing frame casting a long, suffocating shadow over the concrete.
The primary attacker froze, his arrogant composure instantly evaporating as he took in Michael’s towering size and dangerous athletic posture. Realizing he was thoroughly outmatched, the thug quickly released Emily’s coat, raising his palms in a frantic, cowardly display of street-level negotiation. “Whoa, take it easy, pal! Do you possess a personal attachment to this woman? If she is your private property, she is entirely yours to keep. Do whatever you want with her, we don’t want any trouble.”
Michael’s dark eyes flared with an intense, primitive rage, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned a violent shade of white. He stepped into the clearing, his body coiled to deliver an immediate, devastating physical retaliation.
“Michael, stop! Please, do not hurt him!” Emily cried out frantically, rushing forward to clamp her trembling hands onto his powerful forearm, her voice saturated with a sudden, overwhelming concern for his legal safety. “The police detail is already patrolling the main avenue! Do not ruin your life over these monsters!”
“Watch out!” Michael suddenly shouted, his baritone cracking with sharp urgency as the second accomplice pulled a heavy metal pipe from his jacket, swinging it wildly toward Emily’s head. With a swift, powerful sweep of his arm, Michael violently shoved her out of the trajectory, shielding her fragile form completely with his own body as his shoulder absorbed the momentum of the scuffle. He grabbed the leader by the collar, throwing him backward into the iron dumpster with a resounding crash. “Let us vacate this corridor immediately!” Michael commanded, his large hand wrapping securely around Emily’s wrist as he forcefully pulled her out of the alley toward his idling vehicle.
The two bruised criminals scrambled to their feet in the dark, staring frantically toward the mouth of the street as the heavy exhaust of the Cadillac Escalade vanished into the traffic. “You absolute idiot!” the accomplice hissed, rubbing his arm. “Why did you just let them escape into the light? We explicitly agreed to execute this assignment together to secure the high-society payout!”
“I strongly suggested you remain completely clear of Michael Thompson’s personal perimeter.”
A cold, menacing female voice suddenly cut through the heavy silence of the alleyway, casting a terrifying chill over the concrete. A slender, elegant silhouette stepped out from the deep shadows of the service alcove, her expensive heels clicking softly against the stone. Her face remained partially obscured by the darkness, but her eyes glinted with a dangerous, calculated malice that made the street-hardened thugs instantly straighten their posture in fear. “Next time your clumsy operations interfere with the Chairman’s safety,” she whispered with an absolute, unyielding cruelty, “I will personally ensure you are eliminated from the ledger permanently. Scram.”
Inside the luxurious, leather-lined sanctuary of the moving Escalade, the ambient streetlights of the Chicago expressway swept rhythmically across the quiet cabin. Michael sat beside Emily on the plush rear bench, his breathing slowly returning to a controlled, executive rhythm as he carefully opened a premium first-aid kit from the console. He reached across the space, lifting her forearm with a remarkable, heartbreaking tenderness that completely shattered her remaining emotional defenses.
“Does the abrasion cause you severe pain?” Michael murmured, his deep baritone dropping into a low, incredibly soft register as he used a sterile wipe to clean a raw scrape along her delicate wrist. He leaned over her hand, his face inches from her skin as he gently, deliberately blew a cool breath across the wound to soothe the burning friction of the concrete. “Just bear with the sting for one last time, Emily.”
Emily felt a sudden, magnificent flutter expand deep within her chest, a dangerous, warm current of pure intimacy vibrating through her veins as she stared at the sharp line of his profile. The physical tenderness of this powerful, unyielding man was far more intoxicating than any drug. She swallowed hard, trying to force her voice into a practical register as she gently pulled her arm back into her lap. “I feel remarkably better now, sir. Okay… that is more than enough medical care. Thank you immensely for your intervention yesterday, and for today.”
“You are a premier executive employee of my firm,” Michael stated firmly, his eyes instantly shifting back toward the dark window as he forced his features into a rigid, remote mask to cover his own racing pulse. “It is my absolute, mandatory duty to protect the physical integrity of my staff from corporate liability.”
“Just a premier employee?” Emily mumbled softly under her breath, a sharp, sudden pang of genuine high-society disappointment tightening her throat as she looked away.
Before the heavy silence could stretch across the cabin, the vehicle ground to a sudden halt outside the terminal hotel, and the rear door was violently thrown open. Sophia Reed burst into the luxury space under the guise of frantic, breathless concern, her designer coat askew as she practically threw herself onto the opposite leather seat.
“Mr. Thompson! Emily Carter just transmitted a frantic notification claiming your detail was viciously attacked in the financial corridor!” Sophia shrieked, her theatrical performance filled with fake elder anxiety as she scanned his posture. “Are you physically harmed, sir? Tell me you are okay!”
Michael let out a low, deeply frustrated sigh, his jaw locking with immense corporate fatigue. “If a severe catastrophe had actually occurred to my person, Sophia, do you honestly believe I would be standing cleanly in front of your face right now?”
“I explicitly stated to the board that you required a permanent, high-level bodyguard detail on the floor, yet you relentlessly refused my recommendations!” Sophia huffed, her eyes narrowing into cold, paranoid slits as she took in the intimate proximity between the CEO and the intern. “Were you truly that eager to secure isolated alone time with Emily Carter? Are you two currently participating in a private, domestic moment behind my back?”
“Isolated alone time? What absolute administrative nonsense are you babbling?!” Michael snapped, a sudden, fierce flush of embarrassment coloring his collar.
“Don’t you dare attempt to deny your personal feelings for Emily Carter any longer, sir!” Sophia pressed relentlessly, her voice rising into a sharp, jealous pitch. “The entire floor knows you are completely infatuated with her presence! You possess zero interest in me!”
Emily let out an exasperated, cynical laugh, her independent pride completely boiling over as she leaned forward across the leather console. “What exactly do you mean by suggesting that I am the one harboring romantic designs on you, Sophia? If we are analyzing the baseline operational truth… Mr. Thompson was the distinct individual who initiated this entire chase first!”
“When exactly did I ever display a personal crush on your presence, Miss Carter?!” Michael retorted instantly, his face turning a brilliant shade of crimson as his executive shield fractured completely before his staff.
“Then explain to me why you took the liberty of telling my traditional grandmother that you are my legal husband?!” Emily countered fiercely, her eyes blazing with an independent defiance as she pulled a weathered, leather-bound notebook from her portfolio and slapped it onto his lap. “Furthermore, why exactly did you meticulously write down every single one of my private conceptual preferences and dietary metrics in your little personal diary? If this extreme level of surveillance isn’t absolute love, Mr. Thompson, please define the parameters for the floor!”
“My grandmother completely and utterly misinterpreted the administrative parameters of that relocation!” Michael insisted frantically, his baritone cracking slightly as he desperately adjusted his cuffs to cover his absolute mortification. “Besides, that specific notebook contains strictly work-related organizational metrics! I catalog the precise operational details for you, Director Anderson, Taylor, and Lee with identical vigilance!”
“Moreover, if I recall your boardroom declarations correctly, aren’t you exclusively into men, Mr. Thompson?” Emily teased softly, a beautiful, mischievous smirk gracing her intelligent features as she cornered the billionaire with his own past cover stories.
“That ridiculous declaration was strictly a temporary executive excuse to reject your initial advances!” Michael exclaimed blindly, completely trapped by his own narrative logic.
“Who exactly requires your validation, you supreme narcissist?!” Emily scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes with absolute, high-society dignity. “Do you truly possess the independent courage to look me in the eye and say you don’t harbor a single feeling for my presence?”
“Think whatever your imaginative mind requires, Miss Carter,” Michael grumbled defensively, crossing his massive arms over his chest as he retreated into the shadows of the seat. “You are clearly the individual who is entirely infatuated with my character, yet your pride refuses to admit the operational truth to the floor.”
From the front seat, Alex Johnson slowly turned his head around, a cool, completely deadpan smirk playing behind his spectacles as he checked his digital manifests. “Director Thompson, if I may offer a neutral baseline metric based on my years of managing your schedule… the primary reason she interacts with your person is because you fell completely for her credentials first. Therefore, from a strictly scientific perspective, you are obviously the individual who is currently crushing on Emily Carter.”
Michael’s dark eyes widened to absolute dinner plates, his terrifying executive aura instantly resetting into a desperate threat as he glared at his assistant. “Are you actively suggesting… that I am… secretly pining after a temporary intern?! Alex Johnson, if you dare to spill a single syllable of this data to the board of directors, you are a dead man before the market opens.”