Killing my billionaire CEO

Interview The glass tower rose like a blade into the Sydney skyline, slicing through the pale morning haze. Ava Reynolds stood at the base of it, clutching her folder so tightly that the paper edges curled under her fingers. Helios Group, the gleaming letters read, cold and perfect. The building’s mirrored surface caught her reflection—her neat bun, nervous eyes, and secondhand blazer that tried its best to look new. She had imagined this moment for years. The day she’d walk through those glass doors and not as a visitor. A job here meant stability, prestige, a chance to finally move her mum out of that cramped suburban flat with the leaky ceiling. But dreams were easier to wear in the dark, when no one was looking. In daylight, under the weight of Helios Tower, they felt suddenly fragile. A security guard scanned her ID at the reception. “Welcome, Miss Reynolds. Mr. Voss will see you on Level 52.” Ava blinked. “Mr. Voss… himself?” The guard smiled faintly. “You’ll see.” The elevator hummed upward, smooth and silent, carrying her past mirrored walls that reflected a dozen versions of her—each one a little more uncertain. Her heart pounded in rhythm with the rising numbers: 47… 48… 49… You’ve got this. Her mum’s voice echoed in her head. You’ve worked too hard to be afraid of success, darling. The doors slid open with a hush. Level 52 was another world—air thick with the scent of citrus and expensive leather. Sunlight spilled through floor-to-ceiling glass, painting the marble floors gold. A woman with sharp eyes and a headset approached. “Ava Reynolds?” “Yes.” “Follow me, please.” The woman led her through an open workspace where quiet employees moved like clockwork—efficient, sleek, almost robotic. Ava felt their eyes flicker toward her as she passed, the way a tide shifts for a moment and then retreats. They stopped before a pair of tall, smoked-glass doors. The woman pressed a button on her earpiece. “Mr. Voss, your appointment has arrived.” A low, distant voice replied through the headset: “Send her in.” The doors parted soundlessly. Damian Voss’s office looked more like an art gallery than a workspace. Minimalist black furniture, abstract paintings, a breathtaking view of Darling Harbour framed like a moving canvas. Behind a vast oak desk sat the man himself—the billionaire she had admired from afar. Damian looked younger than she expected. Late thirties, maybe. Dark hair slicked back neatly, eyes the grey-blue of a winter storm. His suit fit like armor, but the way he leaned back in his chair made it seem effortless, natural. He didn’t smile when she entered, just gestured toward the chair opposite him. “Miss Reynolds,” he said, his voice low, deliberate. “You’re punctual.” Ava sat, careful not to fumble with her folder. “Thank you for seeing me, sir.” “I don’t handle interviews personally,” he said, eyes still fixed on her résumé. “But your application caught my attention.” Her throat felt dry. “I—I’m honored.” “Ambitious. Top marks from Newcastle University. Administrative internship at Newton Capital.” His tone gave nothing away. “Tell me, why Helios?” Ava had rehearsed that question all night. “Because it’s the best, sir. And I want to work for the best. I’ve followed your career since I was in university—your innovations, your leadership style. I believe I can grow under this company.” He finally looked up, and the intensity in his gaze hit her like static electricity. “Grow,” he repeated softly, as though testing the word. “Everyone who walks into this building wants to grow, Miss Reynolds. The problem is, growth demands sacrifice.” A pause. The hum of the city below filled the silence. “Do you know what that means?” he asked. She hesitated. “I think so, sir.” “I doubt it,” he said, almost kindly. Then, abruptly, he stood. “Coffee?” “I—uh, sure.” He moved to the sideboard, poured two cups himself. No assistants, no pomp. Just quiet, deliberate grace. When he handed her the cup, their fingers brushed briefly—warm skin against cold porcelain. Ava tried to ignore the spark that jumped up her arm. “Tell me something,” Damian said, returning to his seat. “If you got this job, what’s the first thing you’d do with your paycheck?” She blinked, startled by the intimacy of the question. “I’d… probably fix my mum’s roof.” He tilted his head. “Your mother?” “She’s retired now. Used to be a nurse. I promised her that once I land something stable, she won’t have to worry anymore.” For a heartbeat, his expression softened—barely noticeable, like sunlight flickering through cloud. Then it vanished. “Admirable,” he said. “Family makes us human. But in my world, sentiment can be a liability.” Ava swallowed. “I understand, sir.” He studied her for a long moment, then pushed her résumé aside. “You already work here, Miss Reynolds. You just don’t know it yet.” Her heart skipped. “I—I don’t understand.” He smiled now—an unsettling, almost beautiful smile. “Congratulations. You start Monday. Talia Winters will handle the paperwork. Don’t be late.” It took her a second to process the words. “Thank you, Mr. Voss. Thank you so much.” As she stood, he said quietly, “A word of advice.” She turned back. “Be careful what you wish for.” Outside the office, Ava exhaled, dizzy with relief and adrenaline. Talia Winters, the office manager, appeared with a contract folder and a rare, small smile. “Welcome to Helios, Miss Reynolds,” she said. “You’re replacing Clara Liu. She left suddenly last month.” “Is she working somewhere else now?” Ava asked. Talia’s smile flickered. “I’m not sure.” They rode the elevator down together in silence. Through the mirrored wall, Ava saw her own reflection again—but this time she didn’t look like the same girl who’d walked in. Her phone buzzed with a text from her mum: How did it go, love? Ava smiled as she typed back: I got it. He’s not what I expected… he’s more. From fifty-two floors above, Damian Voss stood at his window, watching her leave through the glass lobby below. A faint smirk touched his lips. “Perfect,” he murmured.