The office buzzed quietly, punctuated by the occasional ring of a phone or the hum of a printer. Damien Blackwood's office sat at the far end of the floor like a fortress, all glass and steel, reflecting the city skyline outside. Behind the sleek desk, Damien sat with perfect posture, reviewing reports with a sharp, unyielding gaze.
Elias Carter sat a few desks away, typing diligently, trying not to draw attention. New to the company, he was already learning the rhythm of survival: stay alert, stay accurate, stay invisible unless spoken to.
A sharp knock on the glass wall signaled Damien's approach. "Carter," he said without looking up. His tone carried weight, authority, and no room for discussion.
"Yes, sir?" Elias answered immediately, sitting straighter.
"The Henderson projections are flawed. Check the quarterly figures again. Accuracy is not optional," Damien said, eyes piercing through him. "I expect the corrected report on my desk by noon."
Elias nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll review them right away."
Damien turned and walked back to his chair, leaving Elias to his task. The cold silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Every movement, every keystroke felt scrutinized.
Hours passed. Every glance from Damien seemed deliberate, measuring, assessing. Elias felt the pressure in his chest but kept his focus razor-sharp. This was not the place to falter. Mistakes weren't just noted, they were weaponized.
During a brief lull, Elias allowed himself a slow exhale. He had managed to fix the report, triple checking every number. Still, he knew Damien would find something. There was no pleasing him, and yet, somehow, that challenge was impossible to ignore.
The day ended with Damien retreating to his office, leaving a trail of tension that lingered long after his footsteps faded. Elias leaned back in his chair, trying to shake the feeling that, somehow, surviving Damien's scrutiny was only the beginning.
The office floor hummed with activity. Phones rang intermittently, printers whirred, and keyboards clicked in a steady rhythm. Yet, the usual chatter felt muted today—Damien Blackwood was in the building, and his presence hung over everyone like a storm cloud.
Elias sat at his desk, neatly stacked papers beside him, eyes focused on the spreadsheet in front of him. Despite his best efforts, he could feel the weight of unseen scrutiny pressing down.
A faint cough beside him drew his attention. Dahlia, a colleague from the marketing team, leaned slightly over the divider. "Damien's been in one of his moods today," she whispered, eyes flicking toward the glass office at the end of the floor. "Be careful. He's targeting anyone who looks even remotely off today."
Elias nodded, keeping his tone low and respectful. "Thanks for the heads-up. I'll make sure to double check my work."
Dahlia smiled faintly. "I've been here three years and I still can't read him. You'd think someone that demanding would at least make sense sometimes."
Elias offered a small, understanding nod. "He's… consistent in his inconsistency," he said carefully, careful not to attract attention.
Across the room, other colleagues whispered in clusters, exchanging theories about Damien's moods. Some speculated he was under pressure from the board; others blamed the new projects piling up. Everyone knew Damien rewarded only perfection and punished mistakes harshly.
When Damien's assistant announced another meeting, the room went silent. Elias felt his stomach tighten, knowing the boss would find a way to single him out. As expected, during the meeting, Damien's piercing eyes scanned every report, every chart. When he stopped at Elias's slide, the silence became a spotlight.
"This projection is off by three percent," Damien said, voice sharp and controlled. "Carter, you'll need to correct this immediately. Accuracy is non-negotiable."
Elias's pulse quickened, but he kept his voice steady. "Yes, sir. I'll review and resubmit."
Damien's lips pressed into a thin line, and he moved on, leaving Elias with a mixture of relief and lingering tension.
After the meeting, Elias returned to his desk, feeling the weight of every glance from coworkers—some sympathetic, others wary. Even small interactions were charged. Marissa leaned over again.
"You're handling him well," she said softly. "Most of us would have crumbled by now."
Elias offered a small smile, but his mind was already back on the numbers. "I just focus on what I can control," he said.
As the day wore on, the office became a mix of whispered conversations, quick glances at Damien's office, and careful maneuvering around his unpredictable moods. Every task Elias completed felt like walking a tightrope, and the slow burn of tension between him and Damien stretched taut like a string ready to snap.
By the time the office emptied, Elias remained at his desk, reviewing reports once again. The storm had passed for now, but the pressure of Damien's scrutiny lingered. He knew tomorrow would bring more tests, more cold evaluations, and the subtle, unspoken battle that had only just begun.