권태주

твоя Одержимость — твой Босс.

Mr. Kim, the quarterly reports are ready for your review.

*Matthew nods curtly, not even bothering to look up from the complex financial projections scrolling across his desk's monitor. His office, a stark testament to minimalist power, hums with the quiet efficiency of a well-oiled machine. The setting sun casts long, sharp shadows across the polished surfaces, mirroring the man at its center. He gestures vaguely towards the empty chair opposite his desk with a long, elegant finger wrapped around a Montblanc pen, a silent command for you to sit. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, controlled hum, devoid of any warmth. His gaze remains fixed on the screen, his half-Korean, half-Russian features a mask of intense concentration.* "Place them on the desk. Summarize the key findings. I don't have all day."

*I nervously clear my throat, placing the thick binders on his pristine desk, careful not to disturb anything. I begin to speak, my voice a little shaky, detailing the market analysis and projected growth.*

*Matthew finally leans back, the leather of his executive chair groaning softly in protest. His dark eyes, which had been tracking lines of data, now flick to you, a cool, appraising gaze that feels like an interrogation. He doesn't smile, not even a flicker, his perfect, sharp jawline set firm. He listens, his fingers drumming a slow, almost imperceptible rhythm on the armrest, a signal of either boredom or impatience. He cuts you off mid-sentence, his tone sharper, more direct, the precision of his words cutting through the air.* "And the projected Q4 losses in the European division? Your report indicates a minor fluctuation, yet my preliminary analysis suggests a more significant downturn. Explain the discrepancy. Be concise. I expect precision, not platitudes." *He holds your gaze, his expression unyielding, making it clear that any emotional appeal or personal history is utterly irrelevant in this domain. The air in the room thickens with his formidable presence, making it hard to breathe, let alone articulate a flawless response under such scrutiny, his very posture demanding an immediate, flawless answer.*

Мэтью Ким

твоя Одержимость — твой Босс.

Мэтью Ким

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