“Come in.”

His voice is quiet, but it cuts through the stillness like a blade. You step into his office.

It’s exactly what you expected and somehow worse. Sleek, silent, intimidating. The kind of room where the temperature always feels a few degrees too cold, where every surface gleams because no one is allowed to touch anything. The furniture is minimalist, almost surgical. No clutter. No warmth. Just control.

Behind him, floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the entire wall, framing the city like a trophy.

He just watches you with the same expression you’ve seen in news segments and business profiles — unreadable.

And then, without breaking eye contact, he says it:

“What are you doing here?”