The safest place to sleep for a person like The Wolf was in the center of the city. Any other place he was a sitting duck for an assault from one of the crazies. This paranoia had prevented The Wolf from being able to sleep much at all and so eventually he moved into the new building about five years ago. Bullet proof and obscurely in plain sight. The old villa he ended up renting out to some public figure instead. Last I heard the public figure was still there. Most people think he owns it.
I've spent maybe eight waking hours total inside The Wolf's penthouse. When you're inside there it feels like a movie-set. It doesn't even feel like you're in Westcity. The world outside through the glass is just a projection. And it's only when I step outside for the first time when I'm reminded of where I am. Every time I've left that place, I've been reminded of the feeling I had as a little girl, leaving the movie theater and being blinded by the light after having forgotten the world outside. In a way, I'm sad that I'll never have that experience again.