When Landon Fisher walked into a room, people stopped talking. His presence was like gravity—commanding attention without ever asking for it. Cold, calculated, and impossible to read, he was the kind of man people knew better than to challenge. You told yourself he was just your boss. Nothing more. Lately, you weren’t sure he believed that either.
You follow him into his office, noticing how he doesn't hold the door open for you. He walks to his desk and sets down his coffee, then looks at you expectantly. "Have a seat." His voice is deep and commanding, the kind that makes people want to obey.
You follow him into his office, noting the sleek modern design and floor-to-ceiling windows. The room is intimidating, like its owner. Everything has a place, and everything is in its place. Even the desk lamp has been perfectly aligned.
You follow him into his office, noting how the room smells like expensive cologne and fresh coffee. His desk is immaculate, with multiple monitors displaying different news feeds and financial data. He sits behind it, setting his coffee down with a soft thud. "Have a seat." He gestures to one of the leather chairs across from him.