#top women entrepreneurs

[aqcellor]

The Power Of Mentorship In Aqcellor’s World!

There are many ways of learning about business, industry, and entrepreneurship but none can be as effective as learning through mentorship.

When you interact with a mentor you draw on his or her real-life experience, including the failures and disappointments encountered along the way, all of which are as important as the final success achieved.

A mentor is a role model, someone we look up to as exemplary in the way they conduct themselves in business. The ideal mentor will inculcate the right values and morals, which again, cannot be sourced through textbook learning.

Aqcellor places great importance on the role of mentorship in its Entrepreneurship Program. A mentor can address a budding entrepreneur’s questions and concerns from a lived-experience perspective. A mentor is in a position to allay the fears and doubts of a young businessperson who is perhaps on the verge of giving up. The mentor has usually been there too.

Believe in Yourself

Seven years ago, serial entrepreneur, respected educator, innovator, and mentor Heminda Jayaweera told a student of his, “Don’t believe the speculations of others. Prove whether your idea is working or not and determine everything from your results.” Those words of advice led Dineth Egodage and his team to start Sprintylab, a failed venture, followed by Ceyentra Technologies, today a highly successful tech company.

Dineth met Heminda again after seven years, when Heminda was invited to speak on the topic ‘Innovation Mindset’ at Aqcellor in May. It was a proud moment when the student, now CEO, was able to tell his mentor that Ceyentra has multiplied its revenue 10x within five years. “We still we have a lot to learn from him,” says Dineth. “He is one of the best mentors, who changed our entrepreneurial journey.”

Mentorship is About Giving Back

Take Chartered Accountant Anandan (Arni) Arnold, Partner at BBK Partnership, who after 36-plus years in the UK remains passionate about giving back to Sri Lanka. One of the many youths who left the island in 1983, not just for his personal safety but for education, it was assumed he would take to medicine like his older brother, already a doctor in the UK.

Amusingly, he recalled how soon after his arrival in the UK, he asked his brother why he hadn’t returned home over the weekend. The doctor replied he had been working on shift. Arni cheekily replied, “Well then being a doctor won’t work for me, I have to play cricket!”

He ended up in the field of Accountancy and never for a moment forgot his Jaffna roots. Through the decades Arni has remained steadfastly connected to the motherland. In June this year he escorted a team of 20 second-generation British-Sri Lankan graduates in their first year of employment, together with some undergraduates on a tour of the east and north of the island. Amongst them they possess various skills including IT, cutting edge AI knowledge, medical, social sciences and more. Starting in the east in Batticaloa, then proceeding to Jaffna via Trinco, Vavuniya, and Kilinochchi, over the course of two weeks, the travelers have visited many orphanages, special needs children’s schools and hospitals.

They’ve offered sports, music, and educational gifts along the way. However, it’s safe to say that beyond the tangibles, it’s the memories of the motivational chats, the mentoring and the friendship shared with the children in orphanages that will remain in the hearts of both the givers and the receivers.

For Arni, whether it’s being out in the field, giving back to rural folk while providing an enriching experience to British youth who may otherwise never experience their ancestral homeland, or offering accountancy services and mentorship to other Sri Lankan startups, the genuine giving spirit he possesses places him among that exceptional breed of the diaspora Sri Lanka is fortunate to acknowledge globally.

Mentorship is a Beautiful Thing

The beauty of mentorship is that it is a ‘service’ that (usually) comes free of charge with no strings attached. The mentor is typically a senior person within their industry, often retired and always deeply committed to nurturing new talent, improving the prospects of underprivileged communities, and giving back in general for all the blessings that have come their way.

Mentors are not bound by social strata because they themselves have in many cases risen from poverty or difficult circumstances to conquer all obstacles in their way. They embody the term, ‘self-made’. A true mentor is a friend for life, someone who will always be in your corner cheering you on.

Author-Ajita Kadirgamar

[nina-erotique]

Happy sexy year! - 2025 🎆

[champstorymedia]

From Wall Street to Main Street: How Women are Redefining the Financial Industry

Introduction: In recent years, women have been making significant strides in the financial industry, challenging the traditional male-dominated landscape of Wall Street and paving the way for a more inclusive and diverse sector. From leadership roles to entrepreneurial ventures, women are redefining the financial industry in innovative and impactful ways. This article will explore the journey of…

[sihapparel]

🚀 DREAM BIG, HUSTLE HARDER! 💪🔥

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🎯 Tag your squad and spread the word to fellow hustlers who dream big and grind harder!

[deevayrattan]

8 Women Entrepreneurs in India have done extremely good in there career.

How these 8 Women women entrepreneurs success stories take place. Check 8 women entrepreneur in India who have done extremely good in there career.

[ewomennetwork0]

Apps That Help Entrepreneurs Optimize Their Digital Marketing Strategy

Did you know that there are 582 million entrepreneurs in the world? With numbers like this, entrepreneurs everywhere need a competitive edge. If you’re building and scaling a business, chances are you’re constantly on the lookout for ways to get a leg up on your competitors. To accomplish this, you’ll need a great marketing strategy that stands out in a saturated market and access to the best digital marketing tools.

In this blog, we’re going to outline nine applications you need to optimize your digital marketing strategy. There may be a few that you are familiar with; others might be new to you. These are the ones that can unlock that door to success you’ve been waiting for.

From project management to outsourcing tasks and simplifying your social media marketing efforts, each of these applications will help you get the competitive edge you’re after. Plus, they’re easy-to-use with minimal technical skills required.

Project Management and Collaboration - Trello

The most important part of starting your digital marketing strategy is communicating and setting expectations for deliverables and deadlines for yourself, and if applicable, your team and stakeholders. In the past, most project management efforts took place via email. However, that traditional process was not created to accomplish the dynamic and fast-paced tasks that digital marketing activities demand. 

Trello is a free digital marketing tool for easy project management. The app displays each project like a “board” containing “cards” with checklists, and the user interface is easy to understand and navigate. Like other platforms, there are upgrades that come as paid features to get the most out of it. But, the basic free service entails checklists, deadline reminders, data filtering, activity logs, email notifications, customizable task categories, and more. It’s the best tool to simplify and organize digital marketing projects.

More info : business networking group for women entrepreneurs

[stphns3311]

Leadership is not a one-size-fits-all concept. Yet, when it comes to transformative leadership—leadership that drives change, instills values, and encourages growth—women are increasingly taking the lead. In this comprehensive guide, we're going to explore the distinctive qualities that set women leaders apart, backed by intriguing real-life examples and hard facts.

[entrepreneurinsights]

Entrepreneur Insights | Magazine for Nutritionist in India

Entrepreneur Insights Magazine for Nutritionists in India. Entrepreneur Insights Magazine aims to be the navigator to promote your entrepreneurial story. We desire to be the digital navigator to bring your product/service to all. Through our website, magazine social media, and more, we strive to provide all sorts of latest and important information about technology, sports, health, fashion, real estate, and many more

[expobazzar]

5 ‘small’ business women entrepreneurs bringing ‘big’ changes to the industry

Discover five inspiring women entrepreneurs who are making significant impacts in their industries through their small businesses. These innovative leaders are bringing about transformative changes and reshaping their respective sectors. Explore their stories and be inspired by their remarkable achievements.

[aqcellor]

Riding The Waves Of Entrepreneurship: How To Navigate The Highs And Lows Of Your Journey!

There will be days when you keep your hand on your head and not have things figured out. These days can be frustrating, overwhelming, and draining, leaving us feeling stuck and helpless. These feelings aren’t unusual in your entrepreneurial journey. 

During these times, it’s important to remember that it’s okay not to have all the answers. It’s only natural to have doubts, fears, and uncertainties, and it’s essential to acknowledge and accept these feelings rather than push them aside.

One way that helps me cope with hard days is to practice the pause and reflect on what’s causing any stress and confusion. 

Sometimes, the problem lies in trying to do too much, or we’re not approaching the situation in the right way. Other times, it may be that we’re facing a challenge that we’re not equipped to handle alone.

In these situations, it’s helpful to reach out to others for support and guidance. Having someone to talk to can provide a fresh perspective and help us gain clarity and insight.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

1. prepping (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

summary: you landed your dream job as a line cook at harry styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

words: 4.3k

warnings: nothing major in this one

Your palms were sweating as you gripped the steering wheel, driving through downtown Chicago towards your new job. You kept glancing down at the address on the printed directions, double checking that you were heading the right way. The last thing you wanted was to be late on your first day.

Ever since getting your culinary degree, you had applied to what felt like hundreds of restaurant jobs, desperate to get your foot in the door of a real professional kitchen. But very few places wanted to hire someone so fresh out of school with no actual experience. 

Finally, after months of dead ends, you had landed a line cook position at Haus Kitchen - one of the hottest farm-to-table restaurants in the city. You could scarcely believe your luck when you got the call saying you were hired.

Haus was the brainchild of Harry Styles, international superstar singer turned chef. After his chart-topping solo music career, Harry had traded in artist life to pursue his lifelong passion for cooking. Using his accumulated wealth, he opened up Haus five years ago to rave reviews, quickly earning a well deserved Michelin star.

You vividly remembered watching Harry's transition from a pop idol to dashing culinary entrepreneur play out in the media. As a teenage girl, you had been obsessed with him during his One Direction days.

Your bedroom walls were plastered with Harry's posters and you had relentlessly played their songs, sighing over his tousled hair and pouty lips. Then as you got older and Harry went solo, your boyband crush evolved into more of an intense celebrity infatuation as he cultivated a cool, rebellious image.

There were countless gossipy blind items about his infamous hellraising, flings with models and socialites, and run-ins with the law. You had followed all the scandalous Harry headlines with rapt attention - from getting papped stumbling out of nightclubs with an endless parade of beautiful women to getting arrested for drug possession outside Soho clubs. 

But finally in his late 20s, seemingly bored of rockstar debauchery, Harry had pivoted to reset his image as a knowledgeable culinary entrepreneur. You admired how he transformed from tabloid bad boy into a refined, successful businessman and chef.

He began studying haute cuisine under the tutelage of famous European chefs, traveling abroad to hone his skills further. While continuing to record new musical projects independently, Harry started establishing himself in the culinary world through guest stints on TV cooking shows and food/wine events.

With his brooding good looks, charming personality, and serious culinary chops, the world fell for Harry's new sophisticated image. Before long, he was the subject of breathless puff pieces in food magazines as "the sexiest Renaissance man in the kitchen." It seemed natural when Harry soon opened up his passion project Haus to capitalize on his popularity and love of food.

Now nearing your mid-20s, your teenage fannish obsession had cooled into more of an admiring celebrity crush. You had stayed aware of Harry's journey, but your priorities were focused on graduating culinary school at the top of your class and finding your own big break in the Chicago restaurant scene.

So when you landed a job at Harry's iconic Haus, it almost didn't feel real. Not only would you be working at one of the city's most exclusive spots, but under the same roof as a chef you had admired for ages.

Not that you expected to have any real personal contact with Harry himself, you reminded yourself as you merged onto the exit for downtown. He was an internationally famous mega-celebrity who had to have hundreds of staffers, not to mention being handsomely paid to just be the smiling face of the business while professional kitchen vets like Paul Thomason handled the day-to-day operations.

Still, you had to admit to yourself that a tiny part of you tingled at the mere idea of being in the same building as Harry Styles...hopefully catching a glimpse of that handsome, endlessly charming man in the flesh...

You shook your head dismissively and double checked the directions again, annoyed at getting so easily distracted. This was your big break, your first serious job in the industry. You needed to bring your A-game and focus, not dwell on silly celebrity daydreams.

It was your fantasies of becoming a respected chef that needed to take priority.

You pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, double checking that you had the address right. The sleek, modern building had a neon "Haus Kitchen" sign glowing over opulent double-door entrances flanked by velvet ropes and cheerful outdoor seating areas.

Taking a steadying breath, you cut the engine and sat for a moment, giving yourself a pep talk. This was it. No more messing around doing coursework or labs - this was the major leagues with all the intensity of a real professional kitchen. You had to bring it all day, every day.

As you climbed out of your beat-up Honda, you smoothed down your spotless new chef's whites, making sure everything looked pressed and presentable. With your knife kit tucked under your arm, you walked towards the entrance with purpose, chin held high.

From the moment you stepped through the doors, it was like being transported into another world. The smell of simmering sauces, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread envaded your senses. Even hours before opening, the energy and hustle for dinner prep was palpable.

Off to the left was the main dining room you had studied photos of online - effortlessly cool with vaulted exposed wooden beam ceilings, brick accents, and casually modern decor. Pendant lighting glowed cozily over tables draped in white linens and rustic chandeliers hung over plush tufted leather banquettes. A lively bar area centered the space, stocked with top-shelf liquors and backed by a dazzling display of custom glassware.

In the distance ahead, you could hear the clamoring of the kitchen in full swing. Your stomach did a nervous flip - this was it. Taking another fortifying breath, you headed through the archway.

You emerged into a large, sleek open kitchen layout, all stainless steel and butcher block islands. Uniformed cooks were buzzing at their stations like a well-oiled machine under the barked commands of an older, stocky man you immediately recognized as Head Chef Paul Thomason.

Despite his gruff reputation, watching Thomason in action was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved between stations with the easy grace of a conductor, sampling sauces, tweaking seasonings, and directing the workflow with gruff orders. There was no wasted movement or micro-expression as he continually tasted and perfected dishes, alternating between thoughtful contemplation and decisive action.

Though you had only seen Thomason in pictures and television appearances, his fierce focus and mastery were unmistakable. This was what true professional kitchen expertise looked like in the flesh.

Feeling like a mouse that had wandered into the lair of a lion, you hovered near the entrance, uncertain of what to do next. The kitchen team flowed around you in a choreographed dance, deftly ignoring your presence as they prepped and plated flawlessly.

After a few minutes of anxious loitering, the intimidating Thomason seemed to finally notice you. His grizzled features contorted as he scowled, looking you up and down through eyes squinted with decades of kitchen smoke exposure.

"You must be the new kid," he said gruffly, crossing his bulky tattooed arms over his broad chest. Even without raising his voice, Thomason had a rumbling bass that easily carried over the kitchen's clanging din. "Christ, you're shorter than I expected. Think you've got what it takes to keep up around here?"

You nervously clutched your knife kit closer while trying to not look as flustered as you felt. "Y-yes, chef!" 

You swallowed hard, hyper aware of everyone around you now watching the interaction. "I, uh...I came ready to work as hard as it takes. Whatever you need from me."

Thomason grunted, squinting at you for another long moment in consideration. Then he jerked his head towards the back. "Get changed out quick and meet me back here in 5. I'll get you started on prep and we'll see what you're made of. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yes, chef!" you responded immediately, wincing at how high your voice had gone up an octave.

Without another word, Thomason turned and strode back into the controlled chaos of the line, immediately redirecting his attention to sauces and garnishes. Letting out a shaky breath, you scurried towards the changing rooms, heart jackhammering.

Well, you were officially in the thick of things now...

You hustled back out to the kitchen, trying not to look frazzled from your rushed change. A young Hispanic line cook spotted you and waved you over to his station.

"You the newbie?" he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he jerked his head towards the walk-in refrigerator. "Thomason wants you to start by breaking down some of the produce delivery for prep."

"Got it, thanks," you replied, eager to prove yourself. The line cook gestured you through the door into the immense chilled walk-in.

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the cold, taking in the sights and smells of the impressive stockpile. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with an array of fresh seasonal produce - crates bursting with leafy greens, bushels of root vegetables, flats of vibrantly colored tomatoes, exotic fruits, and mushroom varieties you had only read about.  

Your culinary school had humble basics for ingredients, nothing like the bounty of locally-sourced, meticulously selected provisions that Haus Kitchen demanded. You felt a thrill at getting to work with such an extraordinary pantry.

Respirating clouds puffed from your mouth as you scanned the inventory tagging system. You had been taught similar protocols in your food safety courses, but there was something exhilarating about putting that knowledge into practice in a real professional environment.

Grabbing a stack of plastic totes, you made a game plan for which items to start prepping first based on perishability levels and what would be needed for that evening's specials. Though you started out slow at first, you steadily built up a cadence of meticulously cleaning, trimming, and sorting into appropriate storage containers.  

By the time Thomason stuck his head in to check on you an hour later, you had developed an efficient system and made solid progress through a mountain of deliveries.

The head chef grunted in approval as he inspected your neat stacks of prepped produce, crossing his arms as he looked you up and down with a critical eye.

"Not bad, kid," he rumbled. "Clearly know which end of a knife to use, at least. C'mon back out, got some protein fabrication for you to tackle next."

You diligently followed Thomason back out to the main kitchen, wiping some sweat from your brow with your sleeve. Despite the industrial cooling system, the heat blazing from the ovens and range tops made the open kitchen feel like a furnace.

As Thomason led you to a stainless steel butcher's block island, you couldn't help but gawk at the array of gleaming knives hanging from magnetic strips overhead. The blades were works of art - sleek, razor sharp, and clearly extremely expensive.

Gesturing you over, Thomason grabbed a boning knife and twirled it deftly before handing it to you. "Let's see how you handle breaking this down."

He gave the block a solid smack with his meaty palm, indicating for you to get started on the glistening slab of beef tenderloin before you. Taking a steadying breath, you gripped the bone-handled knife firmly and leaned over the cutting board.

"Yes chef," you murmured before carefully piercing the thick cut of meat, angling the blade with practiced precision from all your training.

Around you, the kitchen bustled with the usual rattling pans, sizzling ranges, and Thomason's occasional barked orders. But as you fell into the rhythm of deftly separating fat and sinew, the noises began to fade from your awareness.  

You were completely focused on your knife work, confidently sawing through the tender flesh as you reduced the tenderloin down to portions and trimmings for other stations to further break down. It was meditative, almost hypnotic, the way you instinctively slid the blade along rendered paths of butchery.

After your initial intimidation of the intense Haus environment, you started to find your groove and calm amidst the choreographed insanity surrounding you. You were so laser-focused on the satisfaction of properly executing each slicing technique that the rest of the kitchen chaos became mere white noise.

You had no idea how long you stayed absorbed in the butchery, but eventually you became aware of a presence at your elbow. Glancing up, you nearly jumped to see Harry Styles watching you work with an unreadable expression, hands shoved into the pockets of his slim-fitting slacks.

His dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the fitted cotton fabric clung to his toned arms and chest, a few chest hairs peeking out of his slightly undone top button. A single necklace rested in the divot between his sculpted collarbones, drawing your eye to the alluring hollow of his throat as he swallowed hard.

You froze mid-slice, mesmerized by watching the tendons in Harry's wrist and forearm flex as his hands flexed restlessly in his trouser pockets. After a beat, his pillowy lips curved into an easy smile, crinkling the delicate crow's feet at the corners of his kaleidoscope green eyes.

"Afternoon," Harry said in that lazy, husky drawl that used to make millions of fans swoon. He flicked his eyes down to your handiwork before bringing them back up to your face. "Looking good there, newbie."

You blinked, not trusting your ears for a moment before realizing with a jolt that Harry was very much real and quite close. Like, unnecessarily close for your over-stimulated brain to handle.

"Uh...I-I, um...th-thank you?" you croaked out, wanting to cringe at how lame you sounded. Get it together, this wasn't the time to geek out–you instructed yourself.

But Harry didn't seem to notice your fumbling, simply giving you a dimpled half-smile before reaching around you to snag a stray piece of trimming from the butcher's block. He inspected it contemplatively before popping it into his mouth, those plump lips wrapping obscenely around the bite as he chewed and ruminated with relish.

"Perfection," he declared after swallowing, shooting you another crooked grin like you were co-conspirators sharing an inside joke. With a subtle wink, Harry pivoted on his boot heel and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

As he retreated, you risked a glance down at his form-fitting trousers shamelessly admiring the way the fine fabric cupped the ample curves of his pert backside. Even at his age, Harry Styles had the muscle-toned body of a man decades younger - long, lean muscles taut under golden tanned skin.

You blinked hard and shook your head, annoyed at catching yourself ogling your new boss like a drooling fangirl. Pull it together! This was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. You had zero business daydreaming about someone who gave you your paycheck, no matter how obscenely famous and heartthrob-ishly handsome they were.

Firmly re-focusing on your knife work, you determinedly put Harry from your mind and tried to re-immerse yourself in the rhythm and refuge of the butchery. But the memory of his distractingly lush mouth so close kept replaying over and over, preventing you from recapturing your previous sense of meditative flow. 

Dammit, you needed to get a grip! This kind of inappropriate crush on your employer was exactly the kind of silly, immature behavior that would make you look like a unprofessional joke in a serious kitchen environment. Blowing an opportunity like this was not an option.

Later, as you untied your apron strings and joined the team in breaking down the last stations for cleaning at closing, Thomason sidled up alongside you. You braced yourself for more of his typical gruff rebukes or criticisms.

Instead, the veteran chef simply gave you a long, considered look before saying gruffly, "You did good work today, kid. I can already tell you got the stuff to handle it around here if you keep your head down."

You blinked up at him in surprise before managing a small smile. "Thank you, chef. I really appreciate that."

Thomason grunted noncommittally before wandering off, likely to oversee something else. As you tidied your workstation, you couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride. Despite the craziness of your first day, you had seemingly passed this initial trial with flying colors.

As you left through the back entrance into the quiet night air, you took a deep breath and allowed yourself a satisfied smile. Maybe, just maybe, you really did have what it took to succeed in this highly competitive environment after all. For tonight at least, you had handled the punishing pace and standards. Tomorrow was another day to prove yourself all over again.

***

Your day started before sunrise the next morning, brewing a strong coffee and reviewing the notes you had taken the previous evening about which menu items needed prepping. By the time you arrived at Haus, reinvigorated by the crisp morning air, the kitchen was already a hive of activity in preparation for lunch service. 

The intense scrutiny under which you worked only amplified with the daylight. Every slice, every sauté was carried out under the watchful eyes of Chef Thomason and his steely gaze. More than once, you felt his presence looming over your shoulder, inspecting your work with the same critical eye as a diamond cutter examining a flawless gem.

"This slice is uneven," he barked, startling you. You flinched, resisting the urge to make excuses as he continued, "The portions all need to be identical for plating. Paying attention to details like that is the difference between a sloppy meal and a stellar one. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, chef," you replied tightly, making a minor adjustment to your knife work. Though his words stung, you had to admit Thomason was completely right. In a restaurant of this caliber, any minor imperfection could spell disaster.  

You redoubled your efforts, pouring all of your concentration into each preparation, each plate. By the time the end of your shift rolled around, you were drenched in sweat, your feet screaming from being on them for 12 hours straight. But you had successfully made it through day two without any major mishaps.

As the whirlwind of dinner service finally calmed to a stopping point, you stood in the kitchen obediently waiting for Thomason's inspection and inevitable critique. But to your surprise, he merely gave a curt nod of approval before waving you off.

"Not bad, newbie," he grunted. "Get a good night's rest. We'll need you back bright and early tomorrow."

Those few gruff words of acceptance warmed you more than any high praise could have. For Thomason, a man of very few words, his small nod seemed to indicate you were, for the moment, living up to his exceedingly high standards.

The high from that small victory buoyed your spirits as you made your way towards the back exit, already dreaming of the few hours of sleep you might be able to grab before starting the cycle over again. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly bowled someone over coming around a corner.

"Whoa there!"  

You froze, looking up into the grinning, mirthful eyes of Harry Styles himself. Up close, the force of his charm and magnetism practically crackled in the air around him like a physical force. His sweater clung distractingly to his lithe, muscular frame and his chestnut hair was casually tousled. A pair of small diamond studs glinted in each ear.

"Sorry about that, H-Harry," you stammered, resisting the urge to take a flustered step back. You were vividly aware of just how little physical space separated the two of you. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

If he noticed your frazzled state up close, Harry didn't let on. His pink lips merely curved in an easy, dimpled smile. "No need to apologize. I don't usually make a habit of lurking around blind corners, to be fair."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, surprised at how easily he was putting you at ease despite your elevated heart rate. Up close, Harry's eyes weren't just green - an entire kaleidoscope of colors ranging from jade to emerald to amber seemed to shift and dance in his gaze. It was...dazzling, frankly.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a subtle step backwards, putting a more professional amount of space between the two of you. The last thing you needed was to do something wildly inappropriate that would get you fired before the end of your first week.

"Still, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings," you replied, aiming for a respectful, levelheaded tone. "It's been a really intense couple of days just trying to stay on top of everything."

Harry nodded in understanding, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "Thomason hasn't let up on you at all, I take it?" 

When you shook your head ruefully, he chuckled. "I know that seems like his permanent state - gruff, perpetually unsatisfied, and grumpy as a hibernating bear. But honestly, the fact that he hasn't fired you already is a good sign you're doing well."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait...really? But he critiques everything! I feel like I've gotten nothing but corrections so far."

"Exactly." Harry's dimples flashed as he grinned. "That's how you know he sees potential in you. If Thomason didn't think you had what it took, he wouldn't waste his breath giving feedback. He'd just cut you loose and hire someone else to start over."

His words were like a soothing balm on the anxiety and self-doubt you'd been carrying around for the past couple of days. You hadn't realized that Thomason's critical approach was actually a twisted form of acceptance and mentorship. The revelation caused the hard knot of tension between your shoulder blades to finally release.

"Huh," you exhaled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you finally understood Thomason's tough love. "I guess I should take that as a compliment then."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed with an approving nod. Then his expression softened around the edges, growing earnest as his gaze searched yours. "Look, I know it's a huge adjustment and the pace here can be absolutely brutal starting out. But for what it's worth...I think you've got what it takes to be something really special in this kitchen."

You felt yourself flush at his unexpected praise, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of nervous butterflies. Harry held your eyes for a lingering moment before seeming to mentally collect himself.

Clearing his throat, he flashed you one more crooked grin. "But don't take my word for it - the proof will be in your work. Stay focused and trust the process. I've got faith you can handle it."

With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours in a way that made your entire body buzz with friction. As Harry sauntered off down the hallway, you couldn't stop yourself from turning to watch his retreating form - the easy, rolling gait, the tantalizing sway of his hips below the slim cut of his trousers, the tousled waves of his chestnut hair.

You let out a shaky exhale, feeling off-balance and electrified all at once. Get a grip, you scolded yourself firmly. That was your boss - your incredibly famous, wealthy, and wildly attractive boss. Daydreaming was a one-way ticket to catching inappropriate feelings and potentially torpedoing your entire career before it even started.

And yet...you couldn't quite silence the part of your brain reliving Harry's velvet tone and intense eye contact as he professed having faith in your abilities. Just the casual warmth of his voice and proximity had set your heart pounding in a way it hadn't since you were a hormonal teenager, utterly dazzled by his rock star persona.

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to turn on your heel and head for the exit. Overthinking could only lead to dangerous territory. You needed to stay laser-focused on your work - that was the only way to succeed at Haus and make your culinary dreams a reality.

As you stepped out into the fresh evening air, you paused for a moment on the deserted back stoop, closing your eyes and taking a few centering breaths. When you opened them again, you felt the last fluttering tendrils of Harry's heated presence dissipate, replaced by a familiar sense of determined calm.

This job was your priority now, not silly schoolgirl crushes or indulging fantasies about your wildly unattainable boss. You knew better than to get distracted by daydreams that could only lead to self-sabotage. 

With a decisive nod, you strode towards your car with renewed focus. You would prove yourself at Haus through your skills and work ethic alone. No other agenda, no unprofessional entanglements allowed. 

Your passion was cuisine, creating nourishing dishes that delighted - that had to remain your sole priority. You couldn't afford any distractions from that lest you squander this incredible opportunity. Steadying your breathing, you looked forward with fresh clarity and resolve.

Tomorrow was a new day to earn your place in Harry's formidable kitchen. And this time, you vowed, you were utterly prepared to meet the challenge with your complete and undivided focus.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! this is an idea for a new series that will probably have 6 parts??? i guess. but do tell me if you like it! because there's no use in writing when nobody reads 😭😭

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[champstorymedia]

Women in Finance: Changing the Game and Making History

Women in finance have come a long way over the years, breaking barriers and shattering glass ceilings in a historically male-dominated industry. From pioneering female bankers to influential executives, women have been making their mark on the finance world and paving the way for future generations. In this article, we will explore the journey of women in finance, the challenges they have faced,…

[imfoive]

The Youngest Son - Chapter 4

Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: non-idol au!, Suspense, Angst, Romance, Mature Warnings: mentions of drugs, cursing, murder, death, somewhat proofread WC: 5.7k A/N: I'm really wowed by how quickly I planned this out. Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The youngest son of the Lee family was stubborn, he was arrogant, he was conniving. Hiding it all behind the mask of a calm and collected man, the youngest son was a master at mind games. Playing a dangerous game where trust is a luxury and betrayal lurks around every corner. He had sworn once, to not let family ties or any feelings hold him back. Yet, against all odds, she had him completely wrapped around her fingers, and he had no desire to break free.

Missed a chapter? - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

CHAPTER 4 ───────────────────

Following the death of Lee Jae, the rest of the business circle remained oblivious to the secret project that Park Hyunmin had meticulously planned for quite some time. 

Rose Enterprises. 

Park Hyunmin was still young when he returned from Australia to embark on his entrepreneurial journey. Naming the company after his late Australian mother, who had passed away during his teenage years, held deep personal significance for him. Despite that he successfully transformed the Park family, who had initially started as hotel workers in Australia, into prominent figures in the hospitality industry almost immediately, even expanding into the restaurant business. 

Hyunmin’s reputation and influence were unparalleled, any collaboration with the Park Family and Rose Enterprises promised to catapult an entrepreneur’s importance in their society. However, Park Hyunmin wasn’t seeking just any entrepreneur for this ambitious venture.

L Corporation had solidified its position as a major player in the industrial industry, with its name attached to some of the largest malls, resorts, hotels, and even bridges. They were known for their wealth, intelligence, and strategic business ordeals. They were a perfect fit for Park Hyunmin’s ambitions. However, despite their success, the director harbored reservations about trusting them completely.

Since Chairman Lee’s retirement and the subsequent takeover by his sons, there had been a noticeable shift within L Corporation. The once formidable leadership of Chairman Lee, who single-handedly managed client needs, was replaced by his less competent sons. And despite their shortcomings, they somehow managed to maintain L Corp.’s top position in the industry. 

However, the next generation, the grandchildren, was a mixed bag. Only three out of six were deemed worthy of praise. Park Hyunmin saw potential collaboration with L Corporation as both an opportunity and a risk, weighing the benefits of their established reputation against the uncertainty of their internal dynamics.

The oldest, Jungshin. He was excelling, but mostly took care of their overseas branches. 

Then came Joohyeon. He was always falling short, but still did well. He was once married to some mayor’s daughter, but even that didn’t last.

Jookshin was the only daughter of the family. She was married off early to another big name family in the medical field, she still did her part. 

Jihoon was the oddball. He was never present for anything, people sometimes forget he was also part of the family. 

Jae did somewhat of a decent job, barely hitting the line. The only time he actually hit, was women and drugs. Although he did have everyone fooled that he had changed.

Finally Minho. The youngest son.

He kept his life extremely private. He was always present, yet didn’t have any scandals to his name. It’s surprising that he was able to avoid being corrupted by the not so pretty deeds of his older brothers.

Minho was a frequent topic of conversation for Y/N. Despite being the same age, their personalities couldn't have been more different. Y/N, spirited and carefree, stood in stark contrast to Minho’s stoicism. This contrast intrigued Park Hyunmin.

As a young man, Minho often went unnoticed in rooms filled with older, more established figures. However, his capabilities became glaringly apparent during the press conference following Jae’s scandal involving drugs and an escort a few years back.

At just twenty-one, Minho had adeptly managed the fallout almost single-handedly, impressing Park Hyunmin with his poise and skill.

It dawned on Park Hyunmin then.

Lee Minho was their secret weapon in damage control. A role he seemed to excel in more with each passing challenge.

He was young enough to navigate situations with unnoticed ease, often slipping under the radar without drawing undue attention to himself. Minho maintained a reserved demeanor, always composed yet aware, easily finding solutions to various challenges and obstacles.

However, Park Hyunmin harbored a growing dissatisfaction with the amount of time his daughter spent in Minho’s company.

He noticed how Minho attempted to avoid Y/N’s advances at social gatherings, only to find himself inevitably drawn into her orbit. Despite his efforts to maintain distance, their paths seemed to cross frequently, leading to speculation and rumors about their dynamic.

The gossip mill labeled Minho as Y/N’s “boy-toy,” a rumor that had gained momentum over the past years due to their peculiar relationship. From Park Hyunmin’s perspective, there wasn’t even enough substance to define what they had as a relationship, adding to his unease about their closeness.

They were Business friends.

And everyone knew what that term meant. But he was starting to wonder if his daughter did.

A few months before the grand engagement announcement, during Park Hyunmin and his wife’s anniversary celebration, Y/N’s father had observed Minho being pulled away from a group and disappearing with Y/N onto the terrace overlooking the garden. It wasn’t an uncommon sight but it caught the father’s eye. Concerned, he found Minho later, getting some fresh air along the stairway, or so he claimed.

With a directness typical of him, the father posed a question to Minho that caught him off guard. 

   “Do you see yourself marrying my daughter?”

Minho’s bewildered expression was enough for Y/N’s father to discern that romantic interest was not the reason behind their closeness. So, he pressed further, pointing out the societal gossip surrounding them. 

   “Then what is it? Isn’t it a bit unusual for you two to always be together? People in this society talk.”

Maintaining his composure, Minho stood upright and faced Y/N’s father squarely. 

   “People in this society always talk.” He replied calmly with a polite smile.

   “Y/N and I are simply classmates who have become acquaintances. It’s difficult to find trustworthy acquaintances in our circle. We’ve known each other for years, learned together, so it’s natural for her to seek me out. That’s all.”

Park Hyunmin took a sip of his drink, adjusting his glasses, he mused. “Acquaintances, huh?”

   “Yes, acquaintances.” Minho affirmed. 

They weren’t even friends.

Y/N’s father would be lying if he said he didn’t think of proposing for Lee Minho to get engaged with his daughter, especially when considering how Minho could be an asset in dealing with L Corporation. However, the conversation he had with Minho by the stairwell weighed heavily on his mind.

Besides, pursuing an engagement with Minho would mean entering into a deal with the second son of Chairman Lee, whose capabilities fell short in Park Hyunmin’s estimation. While both brothers had their strengths and weaknesses, and claimed there was no disparity between the sub families within the Lee line, Rose Enterprises’ grand project demanded the best, and the director was inclined towards the more competent option.

Everything had seemed to be going according to his plans, until it went awry somewhere along.

With Jae’s recent death and the sudden decision to delay announcing the broken engagement, Park Hyunmin’s ambitious “Rose Garden” project had to be put on hold.

Despite the circumstances, his daughter Y/N had to maintain the facade of being Jae’s fiancée, a role she reluctantly played for the time being. Other families offered condolences and sent gifts, but beneath the surface, they were all calculating the right moment to propose alliances for the hand of the sole heiress.

In the competitive world they inhabited, Y/N’s engagement had been seen as a significant social event, marking her availability for marriage. Now, as they awaited the appropriate period of mourning to pass, other families were poised to make their moves, eager to secure advantageous unions with the prestigious Park family.

Y/N scoffs at the gift that some no-name nobody had sent her in efforts to woo her. A token of sympathy adorned with pretty flowers and hollow offers of support. The messages always carried the same undertone “if you ever needed someone to talk to” they were always ready to listen.

It’s been six months since Jae died. Initially, it was all the news would talk about for weeks on end, trying to dig deeper, trying to come up with theories of how he died.

But then someone else in high society did something stupid and the media was all over that.

Y/N’s mother was another headache, who just couldn’t catch a hint. Surprisingly her nice mother hadn’t been corrupted, even after having lived in high society for over twenty-five years, but she was easily trusting. She was a simple woman really, who Park Hyunmin had met when he was still trying to make The Rose Enterprises bigger than it was. They had risen together, but that woman didn’t change.

However, Y/N found her mother’s continuous efforts to set her up with potential suitors exasperating. These men were often charming and polite in social settings, but Y/N saw through their facade, politeness merely a pretense to curry favor. But despite Y/N’s attempts to shut down these setups, her mother persisted in her well-meaning, but misguided approach.

   “Isn’t Kim Seungmin the nice young man from the mall?” The mother read the gift card.

   “Yeah, the one whose family owns the Star Mall chain.” She retorted dryly, clearly unimpressed by her mother’s matchmaking efforts.

The mother hesitated, then suggested, “What about giving it a chance? He seemed polite and well-mannered.”

   “Really? Jae seemed like a good person too, until he attacked me in our own hotel parking lot.” Y/N countered sharply.

The mention of Jae’s actions visibly hardened her mother’s expression, acknowledging the truth in Y/N’s words even if reluctantly. It was truly a bad decision that her husband had made, blinded by ambition and the lies about Jae changing for the better.

There’s a knock on the glass door to her office, and a few seconds later Y/N’s father entered, brightening up at the sight of both ladies.

   “Ah, what are you doing here?” He asks his wife.

   “Trying to convince this one to meet someone for a blind date.”

Her father was used to her mother’s naivety, chuckling as he nodded and took a seat next to. His attention immediately drew to the colorful basket of flowers on the table. He picked up the card attached to it, glancing over its contents with curiosity.

   “You know, having the Kim’s at our side isn’t a bad idea. They’re established and even have a few more small projects planned.” Her father begins to say, glancing up at her, cautiously.

   “Just tell me if we’re already engaged. I seem to be the last one to find out about my own engagement anyway.” She muttered.

Her father glanced guiltily at her mother once before looking at her. His expression hardened.

   “If you’re waiting in hopes that Lee Minho will suddenly take an interest in you, you can forget it.”

The mention of Minho’s name brought her attention automatically to look at her father. Brows narrowed.

   “What do you mean?”

   “That young man has a clear set of goals. And you aren’t one of them.” Her father’s words were stern, warning.

Y/N blinked back, taking in his words. She bit back, jaw tightening as she frowned angrily.

Just who did he think he was to reject her? She hadn’t even confessed.

As Minho sat in his office, engrossed in his work, the door suddenly swung open and his mother sauntered in, her gaze sweeping critically around the room.

   “Love what you’ve done to the place. Very…minimalistic.” She remarked, her tone carrying a hint of judgment.

Minho stood up, setting aside his work with a slight frown.

   “What brings you here?” He asked curtly, not eager to engage in an unnecessary conversation with her.

   “That’s not of any importance to you.” She replied dismissively.

He couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh, rolling his eyes in exasperation. It was clear she was here to babble nonsense, trying to get information or even a rise out of him.

   “If you’re in the mood to waste someone’s time, I’m sure father is taking his lunch break.” He retorted, starting to walk back towards his desk.

   “Y/N’s mother has been asking around for decent young men in our circle. Poor woman doesn’t realize we have no decent men in our society, bless her.” His mother continued casually, a smile playing on her lips.

She watched his stoic composure, leaning against his desk, unbothered, unsurprisingly.

   “Does Y/N know anything about it?” She continued.

He turned to face his mother, his expression guarded. She was sharp and well-educated, yet she had a penchant for gossip like any other high-society woman.

   “How would I know what Y/N is or isn’t aware of?” Minho replied coolly, sliding his hands into his pockets.

His mother shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I assume you would, since you two are always together. Maybe she’d have mentioned it to you.”

   “Y/N and I are not close.” Minho stated firmly, turning his attention back towards his desk, his fingers idly playing with the pens lined up.

   “I have absolutely no interest in her or what she thinks. Her desperation keeps me entertained, that’s all. She’s of no importance to me.”

Just as he looked up, his expression suddenly fell, his eyes widening as they passed his mother and landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

There stood the woman who was of no importance to him.

───────────────────────

The memories of a first kiss are something that a person typically doesn’t forget. Whether it’s was a bad kiss, a fleeting peck, or a passionate embrace, the fluttering feeling in their hearts are etched into memory.

But for Y/N, her first kiss was with a complete stranger.

She dubbed him her “cross-chain kisser.” Amid the pulsing lights of the club, the only detail she could vividly recall was the silver cross pendant hanging from his neck.

Y/N had just turned nineteen, and her father had spared no expense in throwing a grand party at one of their hotels. It was his only daughter’s birthday after all. He always made a big deal out of her birthday, but this one was different. This was her first birthday back home. 

Of course for a few hours of the evening she had to act prim and proper, dressed elegantly in a shiny dress to greet her father’s guests. They all wished her for her grand day, expensive gifts lining up that seemed more intended to impress her parents than please her. She forced a smile, something she still couldn’t get used to after spending the last seven years out of the country for her academics. She felt more like a show-piece standing in between her mother and father, smiling and absolutely tired from greeting all the unfamiliar faces that came up to her. 

The Lee family arrived sometime into the party, each member eager to catch a glimpse of Y/N Park, the heiress to all of Park Hyunmin’s wealth. They showered her with the usual lines of compliments, praising her beauty and noting how she had matured into a proper young woman. That she would finally be able to help with the company and showcase her talent. They didn’t even know her well enough to know of her so-called talent. 

She was bored, she was tired.

Until Lee Minho came forward, his father and mother in front of him, the older woman’s arm was linked around her husbands. Y/N’s gaze brightened up, smiling at the familiar face, dressed impeccably well in his black formal wear and not his school uniform. Y/N’s father was surprised to see Minho, unable to recall they even had a third son. Minho greeted the man, telling him he’ll make sure to leave an impression on him so he won’t forget next time. The birthday girl couldn’t help but smile at his remark, which had made both sets of parents break into a light chuckle.

A natural charmer, that one.

She saw the quick glance he gave her while their parents engaged in conversation. She waited for him to come forward, they hadn’t gotten a chance to meet after returning back from school. It had been weeks. Much too long for Y/N, who had gotten into a habit of bothering him for the past four years. But he didn’t come forward. 

She frowned, refusing to give in and be the one to walk up to him. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him and not hiding her displeasure. He looked in her direction, watching as she bites the inside of her cheek, her disappointed expression not leaving her face. With a sigh, Minho slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks before finally walking towards her. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk, her head tilting cockily, silently asserting her victory to the one-sided battle she was having. He didn’t really see what was so wrong in coming up to your greet your guests, but it was her birthday party after all, and he didn’t need her complaining. Especially if her complaints reached his parents’ ears, something he didn’t need right now.

Putting on his polite smile, the kind Y/N had learned to recognize after years of observation, Minho greeted her.

   “Happy Birthday, Miss Park.” Minho’s tone dripped of formality. 

The way he addressed her had irked the heiress, as if he was putting a distance between them, emphasizing to any onlookers that they were mere acquaintances.

   “You clean up well.” She responded instead, her arms still crossed, eyes glancing over him.

He cleared his throat, muttering a low “hmm.”

   “How do I look?” Y/N inquired, lifting one side of her dress slightly to show it off.

Minho watched the fabric shimmer under the bright lights before meeting her expectant gaze. Obvious, she wanted a compliment.

   “Like a disco ball.” He coolly stated.

She rolled her eyes, expecting that sort of response from him. Instead she looked around, then stepped in closer. Her actions garner him to instinctively pull his head back stunned, watching her lean closer before glancing side-to-side, she starts speaking in a low tone. 

   “Some of the other kids and I are going clubbing later. They want to give me a big welcome back, join us.” Y/N whispered, smiling and nodding towards a group of young adults in their circle who were mingling at a nearby table.

   “Have fun.” He said instead, making her blink back a little surprised.

Minho back in Australia would have said he’d be there if she pressed. He would have ultimately agreed to go together even.

Minho back in Australia wouldn’t have called her Miss Y/N.

He nodded politely and smiled, glancing briefly at his parents who had already moved on to socialize among the other wealthy guests. With a slight smirk, Minho took a few steps backward, his gaze and smile almost taunting her, before turning and walking away. As if he had won.

He did in fact not show up that night.

Y/N even wore a black dress, slit daringly higher than appropriate, but enough to tell everyone that she was an adult. A grown woman. But he didn’t show, like he had said. 

She was upset.

More angry than upset really, not that she should have been because he had already declined the invite. His words were clear. But imagining his smug expression as he walked away earlier that evening, pissed her off even more.

The other kids kept offering shots. She downed them one after another, pretending to be a seasoned drinker while inwardly cringing at the burning sensation and bitter taste that threatened to overwhelm her, a taste she was not used to. She couldn’t let them see that, her brave face smirking confidently at every other shot and drink coming at her. 

At some point in the night, Y/N found herself on the dance floor with someone’s arm around her waist, though she couldn’t quite distinguish whose it was. The dim lights and the haze of alcohol made faces blur together. It might have been Chunyang or Chaeyoung, she couldn’t remember and didn’t really care. Everyone was starting to look the same to her.

Y/N had never gotten drunk before, she didn’t know what being drunk felt like. But if the inability to stand still and the blurry vision were any indication, she was a little more than drunk. The guy and girl in front started making out on the dance floor, something Y/N almost looked at curiously.

Something she hadn’t gotten a chance of doing yet.

She was drunk, but her brain wracked. The kids here have so much more experience. They’d down alcohol like juice, kiss and dance like experts. The academy back in Australia was much more strict, she guessed.

Suddenly, Chunyang or Chaeyoung screamed something in her ear, which made Y/N flinch. It was something about throwing up, but she couldn’t quite grasp the details. She realized soon after that the group she had arrived with had dispersed throughout the nightclub. The couple that had been dancing and kissing intimately had moved to a different part of the floor, and the girl who had been dancing closely with Y/N had disappeared. 

Squinting through the colored lights and the darkness of the dance floor, Y/N struggled to find any familiar faces. Eventually, she managed to squeeze her way off the dance floor and make her way to the bar. The bartender yelled something over the music, smiling as they handed her another birthday shot of whatever she had been downing all night.

Just as Y/N was about to bring the shot to her lips, another hand intercepted it, and he drank it without a word. Y/N watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed the drink, a silver chain glistened around his neck. Her eyes linger on the cross pendant hanging with a tinge of fascination. He almost slams the shot-glass down, bringing her back to reality.

A reality where he had drunk her birthday shot.

She frowned, her words slurred as she pointed at him.

Something along the lines of “why’d you drink my drink?”

He probably replied with “what are you gonna do about it?”

   “You’ll pay for it.” She replied defiantly, brows furrowed in anger.

Y/N grabbed his collar firmly, pulling him close, their lips meeting in a sudden and unexpected kiss. In the haze of alcohol and emotions, she couldn’t recall the exact details of the kiss. 

Did she perhaps lick his lips in a stupid attempt to reclaim her drink?

The thought made her cringe inwardly for weeks afterwards.

Or maybe it was a subconscious response to witnessing the couple on the dance floor earlier, a display of intimacy that had sparked something in her?

It was her first kiss, and her drunk mind thought kissing a stranger was a good idea!?

Another thought lingered, one that she still thought about from time to time.

Did he kiss her back?

Y/N woke up disoriented in the back of her car, immediately hit by the unpleasant sight and smell of vomit on one side of the seat. It made her gag involuntarily. Hastily fumbling with the door, she stumbled out, clutching her pounding skull in pain. Groaning loudly, she leaned against the car, trying to gather herself. The bright lights of The Rose hotel parking lot only made her headache worse.

Bits and pieces of the previous hours flashed through her mind, but the majority of it was a blur.

She was sure a designated driver service was called, dropping off what’s-her-face as well. But beyond that, the details were fuzzy. The irony of being at one of her family’s hotel did not escape her, but she was too busy staring mortified as she suddenly recalled something.

Embarrassment flooded over her as she tried to piece together the events, particularly the memory of kissing someone. Her fingers instinctively touched her lips, the sensation vivid against her fingertips. She blinked, wondering if she had truly been bold enough to act on impulse like that. Her heart beat rapidly.

A persistent thought in her mind whispered.

Call him.

Y/N didn’t even need to second guess her thoughts, she turned back to open the door, immediately backing away because of the vomit stench. She really had to do something about that. Clasping her nostrils with one hand, the other searched the back seat for her cellphone. Body half in, half out, she managed to fish it out from underneath the seat.

Her eyes hovered at his contact. It was 3:56 AM. She must be crazy. But the badgering thoughts in her mind made her heart beat faster at each passing second.

It rang, and she stood straight, foot tapping anxiously. By the sixth ring she was about to hang up, but the click on the other side made her freeze.

   “Hello?”

His voice sounded groggy, as if he’d just woken him up.

   “If you’re not gonna talk I’ll hang up.”

   “No wait!” She shouted immediately.

   “What do you want?” He muttered.

She bit her lip, nerves and a strange tingle of memory swirling within her.

   “Did you come to the club?” She asked.

There was a pause on the other end, prolonging her anxiety.

   “Do I look like the type of person to go drinking and dancing at a club?” He retorted.

She hated when he counter questioned her as a response, frustration bubbled within her.

   “Hey! Did you show up or not?!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin.

   “I didn’t.” He calmly responded.

Silence fell between them, Y/N sank back against her car, absorbing the revelation.

   “Did I kiss you?” Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

   “You must’ve had a really wild night to call someone who wasn’t there at four in the morning to ask what happened.” He remarked dryly.

   “Go back to sleep, jackass.” She shot back sharply, ending the call almost immediately.

Minho sat on the edge of his bed, still dressed in outside clothes, the cross necklace dangling around his neck.

He set his phone down on the nightstand and rubbed his face with both hands, letting out a weary sigh. Hearing Y/N’s voice had brought him a sense of relief, despite the chaotic night they both had.

She seemed oblivious to what had transpired, and Minho was grateful for that.

He didn’t want her to remember.

And he would continue to deny it. He didn’t want to get entangled with her, despite his unspoken desires. Minho didn’t want to be in a mess created by her.

But he always ended up in Y/N’s messes.

As he sat there in the dim of his bedroom, thoughts circled back to that fleeting moment under the colorful lights, one that he couldn’t easily shake off. Even if he decided he would deny it ever happening. He brought his fingers to his mouth, the phantom feeling of her warm lips against his left a tingling sensation.

Did she know he kissed her back?

───────────────────────

   “I have absolutely no interest in her or what she thinks. Her desperation keeps me entertained, that’s all. She’s of no importance to me.” Minho’s words were cold.

Y/N stared at him, her hurt clearly visible. She had overheard his cruel words, which he had thought were shared in private, just between him and his mother.

The carelessness of his remark, her sudden appearance, and his fleeting remorse hung in the air.

Minho caught his mother’s glance from the corner of his eye and swiftly masked his regret, but Y/N saw the shift in his expression. His face hardening in the midst of the whirlwind of her emotions.

She looked at the older woman, who offered an awkward smile, clearly trying to pretend they hadn’t just been discussing her.

   “Y/N, dear! What brings you here?” Minho’s mother greeted warmly, her arms outstretched in a practiced show of affection.

Y/N glanced between Minho and the suddenly quiet room, then focused on his mother. 

   “I was in the area and thought I’d share some news before you heard it from someone else.” She avoided Minho’s gaze, offering a polite smile to his mother instead.

   “I’m going to New York for some time.”

Minho’s expression remained unreadable and Y/N didn’t care to decipher it this time.

His mother looked taken aback.

   “Really? Why—I mean, so suddenly?”

Y/N smiled softly and touched the mother’s hand that rested on her shoulder.

   “I just made the decision.” She attempted to keep her smiling composure.

His mother raised a brow.

   “My father and I believe I need more exposure to learn how The Rose Enterprises work. I’m going to be in charge of it one day after all.” Y/N’s forced smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, masking the tears she had been holding back.

The older woman nodded in understanding, but the tension between Y/N and Minho was heavy. She looked back at Minho, who neither smiled nor frowned. His usual stoic demeanor made her roll her eyes, expecting nothing else. The mother turned back to the young lady close to her with a grin.

   “Would you like to join me for lunch? It’s about time everyone steps out for their lunch break.” She glanced at her watch and then back at Y/N.

   “You go ahead. I have a lot of preparations to make.” Y/N said, clearly intending to speak with Minho alone.

His mother nodded and, though she didn’t look back at Minho, she had caught on. She gave a final smile as she left, clearly amused by the situation.

The door closed behind her, and the room fell into a heavy silence. Minho and Y/N stood a few feet apart, but the distance between them felt far greater all of a sudden.

   “I…” Y/N broke the silence, and Minho realized he had been holding his breath.

   “I ran here to ask you something.” She said, meeting his gaze with a mixture of confusion and pain.

The forced smile she had worn earlier was gone, replaced by the hurt she had felt from his harsh words.

   “My dad asked if I wanted to get married and take charge of his grand project, or go to New York and put his dream on hold.”

Minho’s expression hardened. He already knew what she had chosen.

   “I thought, ‘Why marry some other jackass when I already have my eyes set on one?’” Y/N laughed bitterly at her delusions, struggling to hold back her tears.

   “I’m not sure why I came here, really. I thought maybe you’d tell me not to go or you’d find some solution. You’ve always been good at that… But of course, I’ll never hear that from you. I forgot for a moment.” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, they began to fall freely.

Her words pierced him deeply, yet he struggled to find the right response, staring at her with an intensity he had never shown anyone before.

   “I’m glad you were entertained, Lee Minho. I’m glad that I got to hear what you really thought of me.” Her face contorted.

   “My father was right. You have clear goals, and I’m not one of them.” 

   “Y/N—” Minho began, his voice just a faltering whisper.

   “I knew you didn’t like me clinging to you. I know my behavior makes you uncomfortable sometimes. I’m even aware that I can be overbearing—But I didn’t know you hated me.” She finally broke down in a sob.

Minho felt his face flush with heat and his throat tighten painfully as Y/N’s words cut through him. Before he could gather himself, Y/N continued with words that made him stare in shock.

   “Maybe I should accept what my dad had proposed, maybe I’ll marry that stupid Kim Seungmin.” She declared, her tone resolute.

His figure stiffened at her proclamation, eyes glistening with shock.

   “Or I can just go to New York, away from you. Either way, you can rejoice. You won’t have to worry about how you can avoid me.” She muttered, her mind coming to her own unknown conclusion, expression hardening. 

Y/N took a deep breath, wiping the tears from her chin with the back of her hand.

   “I’ll hate you like you hate me.” She spat bitterly, turning away to leave.

Minho’s hand instinctively reached out to stop her, but he hesitated, paralyzed by his own conflicting emotions. 

Like a coward.

The door closes behind her with a soft click.

Outside, the desks of Minho’s team, now deserted for lunch, mocked Y/N with their vacancy. The absence of witnesses should have been a relief, shielding her from the embarrassment of leaving Minho’s office in tears. Yet, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of being so alone.

Her mind was in a frenzy, her walk to the elevator felt longer than it usually took, the silence of the halls was deafening. 

How could she forget about Lee Minho?

It was a question that gnawed at her, as she struggled to comprehend when and how she had even fallen so deeply for him.

The realization cut deep.

Y/N couldn’t move on. Unable to fathom marrying anyone else while her heart still yearned for him. 

Her eyes welled up again at the thought of Minho hating her. It was obvious yet she had always ignored it. She thought even if he didn’t like her like she did him, he would’ve at least gotten used to her constantly at his side.

So used to her, that he wouldn’t be able to see a life without her in his sights. 

Pathetic.

The elevator’s ding shattered Y/N’s thoughts, abruptly pulling her back to the present moment. She looked up, hastily wiping away the traces of tears from her cheeks, suddenly aware that there might be others sharing the lift with her. But as the doors slid open to reveal an empty interior, a wave of emotion overwhelmed her.

Her lips quivered involuntarily, betraying the facade she struggled to maintain. There was no hiding her heartache now, no reason to pretend she was anything but defeated. With a heavy sigh, Y/N stepped inside the elevator, shoulders slumped with the weight of everything that just happened.

You’ll be happy right, Lee Minho? 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! - @minh0scat, @qwonyoung23

[saturnville]

the man in the suit.

pairing: miguel galindo x afro latina fem oc (eliana)

prompt: miguel becomes infatuated with eliana, the owner of a popular coffee shop in town.

an: I was asked to bring back the Miguel Galindo fics by an anon. it's been over two years since I've written anything Mayans, but I'm always willing to revisit old fandoms, so, here we go, I hope you enjoy.

Her coffee shop was a staple in the town. Known for the rich Colombian coffee beans ground with intentionality, brewed with love, and served in mugs crafted by her own hands. The aura was always calm. Busy, but never so much that guests couldn't enjoy their time. They, just like she often, would get lost in the melodies of indie music that played from the speakers and drunk off caffeine and oat milk. The Tranquil Lounge was a blessing to Santo Padre.

Saturdays were the busiest days in the Lounge. College students stopped by to grind out assignments due the following day at midnight, entrepreneurs chugged coffee like water to finalize funding proposals, and others snuggled by the window with a good book. They were lively and invigorating; her favorite days in the shop.

She danced around her employees, humming a Marc Anthony tune as she topped off a cup with cold foam. Vivir mi vida, la, la, la, la, she hummed to herself.

"I'm very impressed. Most people don't know the lyrics passed the chorus," said an unfamiliar voice. Her teeth gleamed as she smiled softly. Her head still down, she placed a lid on the cup and slid it to the other side of the counter.

"I consider myself determined when it comes to learning song lyrics," she replied. "What can I get you?" Finally, she lifted her head, and she struggled to fight the instinct to gasp. How had he found her little coffee shop in town?

Miguel Galindo was notorious in Santo Padre. A businessman with illegal practices. The government hated him, men envied him, and women wanted him. Everyone in Santo Padre knew who he was and they knew better than to cross him. Their families could end up missing within hours if they upset him. It should have struck fear in her heart, but his presence did the opposite.

Her eyes scanned his attire. Bold of him to wear a white suit to drink coffee. But, it looked beautiful against his olive complexion. It was perfectly tailored to hug his broad shoulders. Her eyes followed its outline.

His brown eyes scanned the beautifully curated menu behind her. Bright colors against the blackboard. Sunflowers, rainbows, and bees decorated the menu. Creative, he noted. "I'll do a hot caramel macchiato. Medium, please." He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. She halted. The drink was $4.

Miguel looked unamused when she parted her lips to object, so she simply took the bill from his hand and thanked him with a smile. "Enjoy, hope to see you back soon."

He nodded. His eyes dropped to her nametag. Eliana, Founder. "Thank you, Eliana. You have a good day, quierda."

She smiled bashfully, "Gracias. You too."

-

Miguel Galindo was enamored by her. He saw the silhouette of her figure when he closed his eyes to rest at night. He heard the southern twang of her accent as he listened to music on the radio, and he saw the richness of her eyes in the mounds of chocolate chips scattered in Christopher's pancakes.

He made frequent appearances at the shop after that. Catching her friendly grin and gentle hands as she passed his cup to him was one of the few highlights of his day. He cherished it, craved it, and adored it.

He felt lucky when he waltzed into the shop one Saturday morning to find it empty. He thought it was a slow day, but she'd closed it for cleaning. And rather than turning him away, she welcomed him in.

"Your usual?" Eliana questioned. She propped her broom against a stable surface and turned to move behind the counter. "On the house."

"Oh no," Miguel waved. "You're not even open, I see." It was Eliana's turn to force an object into his hands. His usual--hot caramel macchiato; medium with a smiley face drawn on the side of the cup.

"You keep me in business, Mr. Galindo," Eliana replied teasingly with a smile. She was so pretty to him. The woman with a mahogany complexion and soft eyes with an unexplainably gentle aura.

Miguel's eyes dropped to the floor as he chuckled bashfully. He had a tendency to pay more than was due, but he credited it as paying in advance for future visits. "I just like to support where I can." Eliana picked up her broom and hummed, instructing him to get comfortable in the cushioned chairs near the window.

His eyes scanned the marvelous artwork that decorated the dark walls. Murals of people parading in fields of palm trees with drums, colorful skirts, and baskets of fruits, vegetables, and grains. They were all of deep complexion. His eyebrow rose.

"Where are you from?" He found himself asking.

"Costa Chica of Guerrero. Mexico." The area where Black Mexicans were the most populated.

"Tu familia?" Your family?

Eliana shrugged a shoulder and bent over to sweep the dirt unto the dustpan. "En México. Conseguí una beca para estudiar aquí. Se graduó con un título en negocios y decidió quedarse. It's a long story." In Mexico. I got a scholarship to study here. I graduated with my business degree and decided to stay.

Miguel mimicked her actions and gestured to the empty seat across from him. "I've got the time if you do."

-

They were polar opposites. She was an extrovert, he was introverted. She loved the fall, yet he found it one of the sadder seasons. Tea was her favorite, though she owned a coffee shop, but coffee was his holy grail. He grew up without his father present, but hers was her rock. So many new discoveries that he basked in like warm comforters on a winter day.

“I enjoyed today,” Miguel said as he walked her to her car. Hours had passed, the sun had set, and their day had come to a close. “I’d like to see you again.”

Eliana hummed as she tapped her key fob. Her vehicle chirped excitedly. She reached for the door handle, but Miguel beat her to it. She thanked him gently and slid into the seat. “Well, you’ll know where to find me, Miguel.”

He chuckled and nodded. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, but. he liked that. Effort was required. He liked a challenge.

“I do,” he replied. “Be ready tomorrow evening. Be safe tonight, Eliana.”

Her brown eyes are twinkled with curiosity. She stretched up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Wear a white suit.” And with that, she started her car and sped off into the night, leaving Miguel to bask in the eagerness of seeing her again.

[chichiscloset]

5 level-up & hypergamy youtubers you need to watch

 

Hey yall! this is part 2 of my favourite Youtuber list CLICK HERE to view it!

I thought I’d share some of my favourite feminine/level-up/pro-hypergamous YouTube channels. Some of them directly talk about femininity, etiquette, or growing towards becoming a better person.

In no particular order, here are my top 5 favourite YouTube channels about femininity, levelling up, hypergamy, and inspiration for generally becoming a better version of myself. I hope you enjoy them too.

KWUCOCO✨

My black SBs and spoiled girlfriends know about this babe!

Kwucoco (Kamanda) is a 27-year-old Cameroonian native. Residing in the heart of Boston, Massachusetts. She is an aspiring real estate agent. Coco is a kept woman her vlogs include herself displaying the various gifts she receives from her many "admirers", "friends" and sugar daddies. Although she mainly makes vlogs of her day-to-day life. She does drop advice on how she became the high-value woman she is today!

Woman of elegance ✨

Woman of elegance is the ultimate guide in teaching women from all corners of the globe how to be elegant, refined and polished ladies.

This online finishing school was created by Vivienne Abena who is passionate about being polished and refined. helping women across the globe with style and proper etiquette.

CodenameChannel✨

The hypergamy and level-up guru! if you're a black woman and you ready to learn how to put yourself in the right places to level up? She's the one to go to! 

Lisa Hart✨

Lisa is a fashion designer and blogger from France who loves old Hollywood glamour and belly dance, which she draws upon in a number of her videos.

In her videos, she discusses style, beauty, femininity, elegance, deportment, glamour, and grace.

Into a Milli✨

Into a milli (Karina) is an entrepreneur running an online business and she also makes videos discussing women, money, and power. On her channel, she talks about internal growth, elegance, beauty, wealth, business, etiquette, romantic relationships, and what she considers the ills of society.

Hope you all loved this list don't forget to check out Part 1 HERE

[ewomennetwork0]

Building Networks that Empower: How Women Can Create Effective Business Networks

In the realm of business, networking is not just about building a list of contacts—it's about cultivating meaningful relationships that can provide mutual support and opportunities for growth. For women in business, these connections can serve as a springboard to overcome hurdles, achieve professional goals, and pave the way for future generations of women leaders. Today, we'll dive deep into how women can create effective business networks and how such networks can empower them to reach new heights in their careers.

Understanding the Importance of Networking for Women in Business

Research has repeatedly shown that robust business networks play a crucial role in the success of entrepreneurs and professionals alike. It's through these networks that we gain access to essential resources—knowledge, opportunities, mentorship, and support. However, the gender disparity within business networks is not insignificant. Women in business often find themselves contending with male-dominated networks, where access to resources may be limited. As a result, it's vital for women to build their networks proactively, focusing not just on quantity but also on the quality of connections.

Navigating the Networking Landscape

The world of networking can feel overwhelming. It's teeming with networking events, online platforms, and various groups that can sometimes feel more daunting than helpful. For women looking to build their business networks, it's crucial to navigate this landscape strategically. Consider your professional goals and target industries, and identify networking opportunities that align with these parameters. Seek out events and platforms where you're likely to meet peers, mentors, and potential business partners who share your interests and aspirations. The more relevant your network, the more empowering it will be.

Building Meaningful Connections

Once you've identified the right networking opportunities, the next step is to build meaningful connections. Networking isn't just about exchanging business cards—it's about engaging in authentic, mutually beneficial relationships. This means asking insightful questions, offering your knowledge and expertise where appropriate, and maintaining regular contact. Networking for women in business isn't about conforming to an "old boys' club" model; instead, it's about fostering relationships based on respect, empathy, and mutual

More info : Women's Entrepreneur Conference 2024