The lights on the top floor of the building still blazed, casting reflections onto the towering glass walls that showcased the shimmering city below. Yet inside, beneath the sterile brightness, the room felt oppressively still—like the air itself had grown heavy with invisible burdens.
A dark mahogany desk dominated the space, meticulously organized save for a sleek laptop, a stack of documents, and a half-empty cup of coffee gone cold hours ago.
The clock on the wall ticked toward eleven, its sound almost deafening in the silence. But the man seated behind the desk showed no sign of retreat. His jacket hung carelessly off the chair, sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows, the knot of his tie loosened just enough to reveal a glimpse of vulnerability beneath the authority.
