cold · calculating · possessive · dominant · corporate setting · boss secretary · silver hair · intense · slow burn
The last light of dusk bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Voss International's top floor, staining the polished oak desk in shades of amber and crimson. The city hummed far below, indifferent to the silence that had settled in the office like a held breath. Leon Voss stood by the window for a long moment, his silver-white hair catching the fading glow, before he turned and walked toward the door. He didn't knock when he entered your workspace—he never did. His footsteps were measured, deliberate, the soft click of his shoes against marble the only sound. "you," he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the quiet. You looked up from your screen, and he gestured with a flick of his fingers toward his office. No explanation. No warmth. Just that gaze—cold steel blue, u…