The 42nd floor of the corporate headquarters was known by the staff as "The Arctic Shelf." It wasn't because of the air conditioning, but because of the woman who sat in the corner office.
Lizbeth Jones moved through the cubicles like a predator in a designer suit. Her heels clicked against the marble floor with a rhythmic, intimidating precision. She didn't say "good morning." She didn't offer a polite nod. She simply walked, her eyes fixed forward, a sharp, unreadable glare etched onto her face.
To the rest of the office, she was the "Iron Lady." To Michael Smith, she was the person holding his sister’s future in her hands.
"Smith," she snapped, stopping at his desk without looking at him. Her voice was cold, clipped, and sent a shiver down the spines of the three coworkers sitting nearby.
Michael stood up instantly. "Yes, Ms. Jones?"
"The regional logistics report. It was due at 0900. It is currently 0903." She finally looked at him. Her eyes were piercing, narrowed as if she were disgusted.
"I was just double-checking the figures for the overseas shipping costs, ma'am," Michael explained, trying to keep his voice steady. He needed this job. His sister, Sarah, had just started her second year of college, and the tuition bills were relentless. "I wanted to make sure we saved as much as possible on the overhead."
Lizbeth stared at him. She didn't blink. She didn't move. She just stared for five long, agonizing seconds. The silence was so heavy that Michael could hear the clock ticking on the wall.
"Fine," she whispered, her voice almost a growl. "Bring it to my office. Now."
She spun on her heel and marched away.
"Man, she really has it out for you," his coworker whispered once she was out of earshot. "She looked like she wanted to fire you just for breathing."
Michael sighed, grabbing his tablet. He had noticed something, though. As she turned away, he saw a faint pink tint on the tips of her ears. Is she angry? Or is she just... something else?
By 8:00 PM, the office was a ghost town. Michael rubbed his eyes, finally shutting down his computer. He had stayed late to ensure the logistics report was flawless—no more 0903 mistakes.
He walked toward the train station, his mind wandering to the grocery list he needed to pick up for his sister's visit this weekend. As he passed a small, warm-lit storefront with the sign The Lucky Paw Cat Café, he stopped.
Through the window, sitting in a cozy nook surrounded by scratching posts and climbing trees, was a woman.
She wasn't wearing her blazer; it was draped over a chair. She was wearing a simple white blouse, her hair slightly messy. She was sitting on her knees on a plush rug, and in her arms, she held a fat calico cat.
Michael’s jaw dropped.
It was Lizbeth.
But she wasn't the "Iron Lady." She was leaning forward, her forehead pressed against the cat's. A wide, breathtaking smile was spread across her face—a smile so genuine and soft that it made her look like a completely different person. She was making tiny, high-pitched "meow" sounds, giggling as the cat swiped playfully at her nose.
"Who's a good girl? You are, Princess. Yes, you are," she cooed, her eyes crinkling with pure joy.
Michael was paralyzed. He had never seen anything so... beautiful.
Suddenly, the calico cat looked toward the window. Lizbeth followed the cat’s gaze.
Her smile vanished. Her eyes widened into saucers. Her face went from pale to a deep, glowing crimson in less than a second.
She dropped the cat. The cat meowed in protest as Lizbeth scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over a beanbag chair. She grabbed her blazer, trying to cover herself as if she had been caught in a crime.
Michael didn't know what to do. He offered a small, awkward wave.
Lizbeth looked like she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. She pointed a trembling finger at him, her "scary" glare returning, but this time, her lower lip was shaking. She mouthed a single word through the glass:
"Go."
Michael turned and walked—fast. His heart was hammering. He had seen the secret. The most feared woman in the city was actually a shy cat-lover who made "meow" noises.118Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfwUj9y23HJ
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