The suite wasn’t just a room; it was a statement—a cathedral of steel, glass, and silent, suffocating wealth. The heavy door clicked shut behind us, and the sound was swallowed whole by the space, leaving only the low, mournful hum of Rotterdam’s distant port. I remained frozen in the entryway, my hand still clutching the handle of my suitcase. It felt like a child’s toy in this sprawling landscape of polished marble and cold chrome.
My gaze, sharp and desperate, immediately hunted for the layout. One bedroom door. Then, on the far, opposite end of a living area the size of my old apartment, another. My shoulders, which I hadn't realized were tensed up to my ears, dropped an inch. A breath I didn’t know I was holding escaped my lips in a slow, shaky sigh. Relief. It was a fragile, fleetin
