MY CEO, MY OBSESSION

The sound of my name cracked through the office like a whip.“Elena Torres!”Dozens of heads turned toward me. Fingers paused mid-typing, whispers rippled through the cubicles like a low current of electricity. My stomach tightened as I rose from my chair, dread pressing against my commitment. I clutched the file in my hands so tightly the edges bent.Mr. Lawson’s glass office sat at the far end of the room, elevated like a question, and he didn’t wait for me to reach the door before his voice cut through the chatter again.“Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost this company?”I froze halfway across the floor. My colleagues pretended to work, but I could sense their eyes on me. “M—my checkbook—I—I corrected the numbers, sir,” I said softly, forcing the words through a tightened throat.He leaned back in his leather chair, sneering. Corrected? You mean ruined. He tossed the folder across the desk; papers scattered at my feet like fallen birds. Do you think anyone will take this depa

Morning light spilled across the floor like gold dust, but it felt cold against my skin. I hadn’t slept. My body was heavy, and my mind was trapped between fear and foolish hope.The clock read 7:12 a.m., a reminder that the world didn’t pause for broken people. I sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the phone on my nightstand. One call. One decision. That was all it would take to change everything.I thought about Clara, her laughter, school, her anger about finishing school, and the way she believed I could fix everything. I thought about the eviction notice folded neatly under my pillow, as if pretending not to see it could make it disappear.Then I thought of Damien Voss. His voice was steady and commanding. His eyes, sharp enough to cut through walls.His promise: You’ll never have to beg again.My finger trembled as I dialed the number in the message from last night.A voice answered instantly, professional and calm. “This is Voss Enterprise.” “Yes, Miss Torres?”“Yes.” Mr. Vo

The sound of my heels echoed down the marble hallway like a countdown to something I couldn’t escape. My palms were damp, my chest tight, but I forced myself to keep walking, chin up, back straight, toward the tall glass doors of Damien Voss’s office.I’d spent the entire night trying to understand him. The way he looked at me. The way his silence could strip me bare more than any insult ever could. And now, standing outside his office, I knew this wasn’t just a meeting. It was a test.I knocked once.“Come in,” his voice cut through the air low, even, and cold.The door closed behind me with a soft click, trapping me inside his world again. with floor to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, the skyline glinting like steel and glass weapons. He stood near the window, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of dark liquid.He didn’t turn when I entered. He didn’t have to. His presence filled the room long before his gaze did.“Sit,” he said.I obeyed, though every muscle in

"Everything," I repeated, the word catching in my throat like broken glass.Damien's hand remained at the back of my neck, his fingers warm against my skin, holding me in place without force. I could have pulled away. Should have. But my legs refused to move, rooted to the floor by something stronger than fear."Sit with me," he said, and this time it wasn't a command. Almost a question.He led me toward the leather sofa near the fireplace, his hand sliding down to intertwine with mine. The gesture felt surprisingly intimate more personal than anything we'd done in his office, where everything was power plays and psychological chess.I sank into the butter-soft leather, and he sat beside me. Not crowding, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough to run if I needed to.The fire crackled, filling the silence between us."I was married once," Damien said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet like a confession he hadn't meant to make.My he

The call with Reed lasted exactly four minutes.I couldn't hear what was being said—Damien had turned away, his voice low and controlled, each word clipped with precision. But I watched the tension coil through his shoulders, saw his free hand curl into a fist against the window, and knew that whatever was happening on that call was dangerous.When he finally hung up, the silence felt heavy enough to crush me."Tomorrow," he said without turning around. Two o'clock. His office.I'm coming with you."No." The word was absolute."Damien—"This isn't negotiable, Elena. He turned, and his eyes had gone cold again—the vulnerable man from last night locked away behind layers of ice. Reed will try to use you against me. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you in the same room.So what am I supposed to do? Sit at my desk and pretend everything's fine while you walk into whatever trap he's setting?"Yes." He moved toward me, his expression softening slightly. "I need you here. Safe. Wh