The Wuchen Group headquarters is… a lot.
I knew it would be big, obviously, but standing in front of it now, looking up at glass that keeps going until it almost hurts my eyes, it feels less like an office and more like a statement. Not loud or flashy, just the kind of quiet confidence that assumes you already understand what it means.
So this is Bael's world.
The car door opens and he steps out first, already adjusting his cuffs like he's stepping into something familiar. I'm just about to follow when he turns back and holds out his hand, not hesitating, not even looking like he thinks I might refuse.
I pause for a fraction of a second, then place my hand in his.
His grip is steady as he helps me out, warm against my fingers, and instead of letting go, he shifts slightly, threading his fingers through mine like this is normal for us. Like we do this every day.
We don't.
But from the outside, it looks convincing enough.
