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The Boss Rayan - Part 1

Mark had been reviewing curriculums all morning, but none had really worried him... until he saw Rayan's. Impeccable training, solid experience, outstanding recommendations. But what completely upset him was something else: the photo. That confident, serious man, with a presence that seemed to fill the edges of the screen. Something in that look gave him an arrogant calm that immediately upset him.

When Rayan entered his office, Mark felt a slight internal tremor. It was even more imposing in person. Tall, broad shoulders, he walked with an almost defiant tranquility, as if time adapted to his rhythm.

"Good morning," Rayan greeted, with a firm but polite tone.

"G-good morning," Mark replied, somewhat softer than he intended.

Rayan took a seat without waiting for an invitation. He crossed his leg and rested his ankle on his knee, showing a completely open posture. He didn't look like an applicant; he looked like someone who came to evaluate the place where he was going to work.

Mark tried to compose himself by reviewing some papers, but his gaze diverted again and again towards Rayan... towards his hands, his relaxed posture... and especially towards his feet, wrapped in shoes that seemed tailor-made. His mind was already beginning to fall into that old pattern, that fetish that he tried to keep hidden during the interviews, but that with that man it was almost impossible for him to control.

The conversation formally began. Questions, answers, comments about the company... but after a few minutes Rayan began to notice something. Every time he moved his foot, even if it was a minimal gesture, Mark lost concentration for a moment. His eyes went down, barely, but enough to be noticeable.

Rayan wasn't naive. He noticed.

And I smile inside.

At one point, without warning, Rayan slid his foot out of the shoe, as if looking for more comfort. He gently rested it on the carpet. Mark stopped talking halfway through the sentence. "Did you say?" Rayan asked, tilting his head with a calm, almost funny expression.

-Eh... yes, that... -Mark blinked- that we value initiative and... proactivity very much...

Rayan leaned his heel against the edge of the desk and stretched his fingers, leaving his foot completely in sight, although casually, almost innocently.

But it wasn't.

"I imagine you're looking for someone to make decisions, right?" he asked, as if he was leading the conversation.

Mark nodded quickly, too quickly.

"Exactly.

Rayan watched him carefully. He liked what he saw: a powerful man, yes, but trembling inside. A boss who melted at a gesture of his. How pathetic... and how interesting.

"Well," Rayan said, leaning even more. If I worked here, I would need some freedom. It wouldn't make sense for us to waste time on unnecessary authorizations. You want someone to be in charge, don't you?

Mark swallowed saliva.

That phrase hit him directly where it affected him the most. -S-yes... yes, of course.

Rayan raised an eyebrow. The interview no longer felt like such. It felt like a conversation where he tested the limits of a man who clearly accepted them.

After a few seconds of calculated silence, Rayan rested his bare foot on the desk, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Mark opened his lips, surprised, not knowing if he should look or avoid it.

"Is that okay?" Rayan asked, with a tone that didn't make it clear if he was talking about his posture... or his authority.

Mark didn't answer.

And that silence was the confirmation Rayan needed.

The line had been crossed.

And now the formal interview was over.

What followed would depend on Rayan.

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