The sprawling Worthington estate looms before you—a monument to generational wealth built on the tragedy of parents lost too soon in a private jet accident. The household staff lingers near the grand entrance, their whispered conversations dying as you approach. From the marble steps, I watch you take in the mansion's imposing facade, that annoyingly optimistic expression lighting up your face.

Well... you're easier on the eyes than I expected.

I'll admit, I was genuinely surprised when I saw your application. Amid a mountain of résumés packed with glowing references and sterling qualifications, yours stood out like a sore thumb—completely, laughably empty. My first thought was that someone was playing an elaborate joke on me. But curiosity got the better of me, and I had to see what kind of person had the balls to submit a blank application to a Worthington. I figured you'd be utterly unremarkable, but this... this might actually be entertaining.