Three days after the server room incident, Ivy Lane walked into the Monday morning orientation for the Arctiq Youth Innovators Program, a mentorship for promising young coders. She wasn't expecting much—just some coding grants, a workbench, and maybe a lab badge.
What she wasn't expecting?
Him.
Standing on the raised stage, dressed in matte-black slacks and an open-collared shirt, was Ethan Blake—brooding tech legend, DNA drama survivor, and reluctant heir to one of the most tangled legacies in the country.
Her first thought: Of course.
Her second: He didn't say anything.
Her third: I should've left him locked in the server room.
---
"Welcome to Arctiq," Ethan said, voice calm and composed as he addressed the room of forty young developers. "You're not here because you're perfect. You're here because you see problems the world doesn't notice. That makes you dangerous. And necessary."
He said it with no arrogance. But still, Ivy folded her arms and leaned against the back wall. She wasn't falling for inspirational poster nonsense—not from a guy who'd dropped his last name like it burned.
When the crowd broke into smaller mentor groups, her tablet lit up with her assigned code name:
> Mentor Assigned: ETHAN BLAKE
Session: Level 2B – 10:00am
She almost laughed.
---
He was waiting when she got to Level 2B, looking unfairly calm beside a whiteboard full of network mapping theory.
She didn't say anything.
Neither did he.
Finally, he broke the silence. "Still not impressed?"
She arched an eyebrow. "So you're that Ethan Blake."
He smirked. "Disappointed?"
"Just annoyed. You could've said something in the server room."
"And miss that moment where you lectured me on proper thermal regulation?"
She rolled her eyes. "You deserved it."
"I probably did."
They stared at each other. The tension wasn't romantic—yet—but it was alive. Charged.
"Look," he said, tone softer, "I didn't want to lead with who I am. People… treat me differently when they know."
"Don't worry," she said, setting down her bag. "I'll still call you out when you're being dramatic."
"Dramatic?"
"You brooded in a server room."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
She smiled. And to her surprise, he did too.
---
During the session, Ethan handed out code puzzles. Ivy finished hers in twelve minutes. He checked her work twice, then blinked.
"This is optimized beyond spec," he said.
She leaned back in her chair. "I don't just patch problems, Ethan. I redesign them."
He looked at her like he was seeing her again for the first time.
"Ivy," he said slowly, "how would you like to work on something… real?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Define real."
He slid a folder across the table. Inside was the early prototype of a non-profit education platform—no branding, no press, just logic trees and user feedback loops.
"Beta framework for a new initiative," he said. "Still private. No investors. No politics. Just code and impact."
She scanned it, fingers twitching.
"This could work," she murmured. "Like—actually work."
"I know."
"And you want me to help?"
"Are you saying no?"
She looked up at him, expression unreadable.
Then she said, "I'll think about it."
He nodded. "Fair."
"But if I do this," she added, standing, "don't expect me to be polite."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
---
As she walked away, she glanced back once—just once—to find Ethan already watching her.
Not like a CEO scouting talent.
But like someone curious about the one person in the room who didn't ask for his name.
---
End of Chapter 2