Christian Voss didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

By twenty-eight, he had built a global empire that spanned five countries and employed thousands. He owned the buildings people dreamed of walking into. His name didn’t just open doors — it built them. He was power wrapped in precision. Cold to some. Magnetic to most. But above all, deeply self-possessed.

Everything around him screamed wealth. Not in noise, but in quiet dominance. The private jets. The tailored silence of his offices. The brushed steel and black marble of his penthouse. The way people paused when he entered a room — not because he asked for respect, but because it was already there.

He spoke five languages fluently. Negotiated billion-dollar contracts before lunch. Ran his empire with the same ease others used to order coffee. Discipline wasn’t a choice — it was instinct.

And yet, for all his control, his personal life remained untouched. Almost intentionally so.

Women had crossed his path — of course they had. When he was younger, there had been interest. Flirtation. Curiosity. But Damien had never been interested in shallow things. Never entertained physical entanglements. Never gave anyone a piece of himself he couldn’t take back.

He had married because his parents had arranged it. A union of legacy, status, and convenience. He had agreed out of respect, not affection. And now, she was cheating — not once, not twice, but repeatedly. He knew. She knew he knew. It didn’t matter. He said nothing. Did nothing. He had already detached. His silence was his exit.

He didn’t believe in wasting words — or time.

Which is why, when a new application came across his desk — from a German division of one of his companies — he didn’t send HR. He didn’t ask for reports. He asked to meet the candidate. In person. At his headquarters.

If someone was going to work under his name, they needed to be seen. Understood. Judged.

He had her flown in.

The girl didn’t know it yet, but the moment she entered his building, she would enter his world — one defined by excellence, silence, and a kind of brutal clarity very few people survived.

Christian Voss didn’t need connection. He didn’t seek it.

But sometimes, something unfamiliar walks into the room. And even a man like him has to look up.