Elena reached across the table, her fingers catching his. Julian flinched, his eyes darting to the door as if De Wit himself might walk in and dock his future for the crime of affection.
"He says the bridge project is failing because I’m 'distracted,'" Julian whispered. "He says I need to be harder. That I shouldn't let... feelings... soften the lines." No Dejes De Besarme Por Culpa D Chris De Wit ...
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. Elena reached across the table, her fingers catching his
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 Since Julian started working at De Wit’s firm, the light in his eyes had been replaced by a frantic, perfectionist twitch.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." "He says I need to be harder
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.