Claiming My Father’s Best Friend
The first thing that catches my eye is the floor-to-ceiling windows that stretch across two walls, offering an uninterrupted, breathtaking view of the city skyline.
The flooring is a sleek, polished marble, while the walls are made of glass. There’s a large, custom-made desk made from some dark, exotic wood that gleams under the light.
Its surface is immaculate, save for a few essentials: a tablet, a sleek pen holder, and a small stack of papers perfectly aligned. Behind the desk is a black leather chair that looks less like office furniture and more like a throne, Jordan’s throne.
Jordan presses a button under his desk, and it frosts the clear glass wall. The mechanism is silent, seamless,
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