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 Since Julian started working at De Wit’s firm, the light in his eyes had been replaced by a frantic, perfectionist twitch.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."
Julian didn't answer with words. He reached out, cupping her face, and kissed her—not with the hesitation of a subordinate, but with the hunger of a man reclaiming his life. No Dejes De Besarme Por Culpa D Chris De Wit ...
We could focus more on with Chris at the office, or perhaps a romantic getaway where they try to leave the shadow of the job behind. Chris was Julian’s former mentor—a man whose influence
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. He reached out, cupping her face, and kissed
"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."
The bridge project could wait. Some things were meant to be built in the light, but the most important things were built in moments like this.
The tension in Julian’s shoulders snapped. The ghost of the office, the blueprints, and the cold, judgmental eyes of Chris De Wit faded into the background noise of the clinking spoons and the pouring rain.