My Impossible Hot CEO.

The Cold Handsome Boss. The private elevator chimed, its silver doors sliding open with a soft hiss. The moment it did, silence swallowed the entire floor. Everyone knew who it was: "HIM". Damian Voss. The boss. The chatter near the coffee machine died instantly. Those who had paused their work scrambled back to their desks, fingers flying across keyboards. Even the hum of conversation turned into the hurried clicks of mouse buttons. The scent of fear mixed with fresh coffee. Those not dressed sharply enough adjusted their ties, fixed their blouses, and straightened their skirts. No one wanted to be the one caught by that cold, merciless gaze. Then he appeared. Damian stepped out of the elevator in a tailored black suit, his presence so sharp it seemed to slice through the air. His expression was unreadable, eyes like shards of grey ice. No one dared to meet them. One look from him could make your heartbeat stumble. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. He walked through the office slowly, his polished shoes echoing against the marble floor. Papers shifted. Breaths held. Even the air-conditioning seemed too quiet for him. In the business world, Damian Voss was a name both feared and respected. Ruthless, precise, and unyielding, he’d built an empire from ambition and intimidation. No one dared cross him because those who tried disappeared from the business world overnight.And yet, despite his heartless reputation, his fame among women only grew. They whispered about him in secret, the cold billionaire with a face too perfect to resist. They said every woman wanted to try her luck with the man who didn’t believe in love, the man whose heart no one had ever touched. Damian Voss was a tall, handsome man with cute grey eyes and broad shoulders, the kind of man who made silence louder simply by walking into a room.His dark suit fit him like armour, his black tie knotted with military precision. Every movement spoke of control. No wasted gestures, no misplaced emotion. Just a cold, deliberate authority. “Good morning, Mr Voss,” several employees greeted at once, their voices laced with fear disguised as respect.He didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. One sharp glance was enough to remind everyone who ruled this place.And then his gaze found me. I froze halfway through stacking the morning reports. My breath caught in my throat. His eyes were an unrelenting, unreadable, unmerciful grey. “Miss Holts,” he said evenly, his voice low but commanding. “My office. Now.”My heart dropped into my stomach. It was my first time being called inside. My palms were slick with sweat as I grabbed the folders and followed him in.His office was enormous, all glass and steel, with a view that made the city below look like something he owned, which, in many ways, he did. I stood by the door, feeling impossibly small.He didn’t look at me at first. He set his briefcase down, unbuttoned his jacket, and began reviewing something on his screen. Only the ticking clock dared to move.Finally, he turned…“Do you know why I called you in?” he asked, his tone calm but dangerous.I swallowed hard. “N-no, Mr Voss.”He lifted one eyebrow. “Then perhaps you should start paying attention to detail.”I blinked, confused. “Sir?”He held up one of the reports I had printed that morning, the one with the wrong client name at the header. My stomach sank. “That file”, he said, setting it on the desk, “was supposed to be addressed to **Henderson Holdings**, not **Henderson Group**. Do you know what that mistake costs us in reputation?” “I— I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t—”He cut me off with a glance so sharp it silenced the rest of my apology. “Sorry doesn’t change mistakes, Miss Carter,” he said, his tone firm. “You fix them before they happen.” I nodded quickly, clutching the folder. “It won’t happen again.” “Good,” he said quietly, leaning back in his chair. “Because I don’t tolerate carelessness.” For a moment, he said nothing more.His eyes lingered on me, not with interest, but with scrutiny. Like he was trying to figure out if I could survive this place or if I’d crumble like the last intern. “You graduated top of your class,” he said suddenly. “Why Voss Enterprises?” I hesitated, caught off guard by the question. “Because… it’s the best,” I answered truthfully. “And I wanted to learn from the best.” He almost smiled — almost. “Flattery won’t get you far here. Efficiency will.” “I understand, sir.”“Do you?” He stood and walked around the desk, stopping just beside me. The air between us seemed too thin. “Then prove it.”He handed me a folder thicker than a textbook. “You’ll coordinate the new marketing brief for the Carter Technologies partnership. Drafts on my desk by tomorrow morning.” My eyes widened. “Tomorrow? But—”He didn’t let me finish. “If you want to last here, Miss Holts, you don’t ask when."You just do.”I nodded quickly. “Understood.”He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “Good. Then start now.”I turned to leave, but before I reached the door, he spoke again, his voice lower this time. “And Miss Holts?” “Yes, sir?”He leaned against the desk, folding his arms. “Don’t disappoint me.” The calm way he said it was a threat to me. I left the office with my heart hammering so hard I could barely hear my own thoughts.The other employees avoided looking at me as I walked past, whispering behind screens. I heard fragments: “the new intern”, “he actually spoke to her”, and “poor thing”. At my desk, I exhaled shakily. My hands trembled as I opened the folder. The project was massive product briefs, financial projections, and internal memos that read like encrypted codes. I had less than twenty-four hours.Still, a strange fire burnt in me.He’d challenged me. And I wasn’t going to fail.Suddenly his door opened. "Miss Holts," he called. I jumped. I knew I was going to be fired for real.Poor me!!