Chris was Julian’s former mentor—a man whose influence in the architectural world was as vast as it was cold. Since Julian started working at De Wit’s firm, the light in his eyes had been replaced by a frantic, perfectionist twitch. Chris didn't just demand excellence; he demanded Julian’s entire soul, making him feel that any moment of personal joy was a betrayal of his "potential."
The rain in Amsterdam didn’t just fall; it blurred the world into a watercolor of greys and neon reflections. Inside the small, dimly lit café, Elena sat across from Julian, the silence between them heavier than the storm outside. No Dejes De Besarme Por Culpa D Chris De Wit ...
She leaned in, the scent of rain and vanilla clinging to her. "He can take your weekends. He can take your sleep. He can even take your pride if you let him." Chris was Julian’s former mentor—a man whose influence
"Julian, look at me," she said, her voice steady. "Chris De Wit is a man who built a skyscraper around his heart so he wouldn't have to feel the wind. He wants you to live in that same dark room." Inside the small, dimly lit café, Elena sat
She bridged the final inch between them, her lips brushing against his. Julian froze, the phantom voice of his boss echoing in his head, preaching about discipline and the weakness of sentiment.