“That white tower? It don’t just shine—it shows off. You want to meet someone important, you meet 'em in the shadow of the Wrigley.”

Description - Exterior

A Chicago icon gleaming on the north end of the Michigan Avenue Bridge. Clad in white terra cotta that catches every bit of sunlight (and moonlight), the Wrigley Building is impossible to miss. Twin towers—one tall, one modest—connected by an arched walkway, with a four-faced clock visible from every direction. The whole structure rises like a polished monument to corporate power, standing bright against the smoke and grime of the city’s bones.

Description - Interior

Inside, it’s all marble floors, brass accents, and hallways lined with ambition. Offices for lawyers, ad men, and paper pushers who work like wolves in ties. The elevators glide quiet and quick, the upper floors boasting views that remind you just how far you’ve made it—or how far you’ve got left to climb. There's a private club tucked near the top, invitation-only, where some of the city's slickest deals get inked over cigars and brandy.

History

Built in the roaring twenties by the Wrigley chewing gum empire, the building was Chicago’s first major air-conditioned office tower and a blatant challenge to New York’s skyline. It became a symbol of Midwest muscle dressed in white-collar skin—clean, proud, and just a little too pretty for its own good.

Owned By

Wrigley Company (officially) several floors now subleased to private businesses and legal firms

Run By

Managed by a no-nonsense property firm with quiet Outfit ties. You don’t cause trouble here unless you want to vanish into paperwork.

Employees

Francine Marrs – Lobby desk clerk, knows everyone and everything but pretends not to
Mr. Calhoun – Elevator operator, ex-cop with a limp and a long memory
Simon Li – Floor 12 office janitor, speaks little but notices too much
Edie Varnell – Receptionist on 17, moonlights for a gossip columnist

Regulars

Leo Stramitz – Ad exec with a million-dollar smile and mob debts deeper than the river
Judge Harren – Retired, still holding quiet court on floor 18
Sister Mavis – Nun with a legal background who runs a pro bono office two afternoons a week
Ollie “Hat Trick” Raines – Numbers man for Bagels, always “just visiting a friend”

Notes

The clock tower’s service access holds a Veil rift that flickers open during major celestial alignments.
Office 1704 has been rented under at least seven different names in three years—nobody ever stays long.
The private club is said to have its own Veil-shielded lounge, where memories don’t stick.
Perfect setting for a meet, a con, or a sudden disappearance—with witnesses who "didn’t see a thing."