>THIRD PERSON POV
The building was as quiet as always.
Venzrich's office lay in near-darkness, the only light a thin sliver of bluish dawn forcing its way through the dark blinds, cutting across the room in a pale diagonal blade. It caught the surface of a single object—a wedding ring—glistening faintly where it rested on the sculpted hand draped over his eyes.
Venzrich lounged on the leather sofa, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His waistcoat clung to him with elegant precision, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal his strong wrists. One leg was crossed loosely over the other at the ankle. A coat hung on the rack nearby, still holding its crisp lines, untouched, as if it feared disappointing him. It had been like that for the past two weeks.
He looked asleep, but he wasn't.
A knock tapped against the heavy door.
