Third person POV
At George's Group, Bruce stepped out of the elevator, his charcoal suit clung to his frame like a second skin, his eyes cold without any emotion, his steps hurried as he made his way into his office.
His assistant followed behind him, struggling to keep up with his pace while clutching several files in his arms.
"President," several staff greeted simultaneously.
He spared them no glance as he made his way into his office and with a soft thud, the door shut behind him.
Outside, the staff exchanged knowing glances.
They drew in deep breaths and slowly returned to their seats.
Soon, muted whispers erupted as the chill left behind by his presence gradually dissipated.
"Shouldn't the president be on a honeymoon after his wedding?" a girl asked in a hushed voice.
Another chuckled quietly. "A honeymoon would only be beneficial if you married the right woman… the love of your life."
