As the boardroom emptied, Chenxiu remained seated, his face an impassive mask. Only when the last echoes of footsteps faded did he allow himself a moment of vulnerability. His shoulders sagged slightly, the strain of the confrontation finally showing in the tightness around his eyes.
With a deep breath, he composed himself and rose, straightening his impeccable suit. The corridor outside was mercifully empty as he made his way to his private office, his footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence.
Stepping into his sanctuary, Chenxiu paused, surveying the familiar space. His office was a testament to power and refined taste, a perfect reflection of the man himself. The room was spacious, with high ceilings that added to its grandeur. Rich mahogany paneling lined the walls, interspersed with built-in bookshelves housing leather-bound tomes and rare artifacts collected from his global travels.
At the center of the room stood an imposing desk, a masterpiece of craftsmanship carved from a single piece of dark walnut. Its surface was meticulously organized, with only a sleek laptop, a crystal paperweight, and a small, elegantly framed photo of his parents visible. Behind the desk, a high-backed leather chair awaited its occupant, its well-worn comfort a silent witness to countless late nights and high-stakes decisions.
To the left, a plush seating area invited more informal conversations. Two deep leather armchairs flanked a low table of polished black marble, while a matching sofa completed the arrangement. Above this grouping hung a striking modern painting, its bold strokes of red and gold the only splash of vibrant color in the otherwise somber room.
The right wall was dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the city skyline. Heavy curtains of midnight blue silk, currently drawn back, stood ready to shut out the world when privacy was required.
Near the windows, a small bar cart gleamed with crystal decanters and fine glasses, a tribute to Chenxiu's appreciation for aged spirits. Adjacent to this, a discreet door led to a private washroom and a hidden panic room, their presence known only to a select few.
The air in the office carried a subtle blend of sandalwood and leather, a scent as distinctive as its occupant. Every element of the space spoke of power, wealth, and meticulous attention to detail. It was more than just an office; it was Chenxiu's domain, the place where he was most himself.
Everything was exactly as he'd left it before his... incident. Yet somehow, it all felt different. Changed, just as he had been.
Chenxiu paused, surveying the familiar space. Everything was exactly as he'd left it before his... incident. Yet somehow, it all felt different. Changed, just as he had been.
He moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the city sprawled below. The fading afternoon light cast long shadows across the skyline, mirroring the dark thoughts swirling in his mind.
A soft knock at the door broke his reverie. "Enter," he called, not turning from the view.