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... s with black eyes, I learned to walk routes like this — where risk lives behind doors no one knocks on. I didn’t wear a cloak or carry a weapon. I wore an expensive watch and polished shoes.

I carried folders, memos, and a smile that opened more safes than any key. I worked in buildings with more glass than morals, surrounded by men who knew how to use the word "compliance" to justify anything — including the slow destruction of other people’s lives.

I was the middleman.

...

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