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Chapter 45: Clouds Over
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Chapter 47: Then Who?
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... n in front of him. The cool glow of the monitor cast sharp lines across his sculpted face, accentuating the tense muscle at his jaw. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the sleek surface of his desk—a habit that only emerged when he was annoyed, or worse, frustrated.
And right now, he was both.
The digital file displayed before him was disappointingly underwhelming. A full report on Felix Crawford, delivered exactly as he requested. But instead of anything worthwhile —instead ...
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