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                                        Chapter 100: The Great Chef
                                
                                                                                        
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                                        Chapter 102: The Snake’s Head
                                
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... se days. Two weeks had passed since our last conversation, and his silence had spoken volumes.
"Richard," I answered, my voice raspy from disuse. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
A heavy sigh greeted me. "Liam. We need to talk."
"I gathered that much." I winced as I pushed myself upright, glancing at the clock: 9:37 AM. The half-empty bottle of whiskey from last night still sat on the coffee table, surrounded by discarded takeout containers and crumpled papers.
"I ...
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