PREVIEW
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The next day.
The morning sun hung high over the city, gleaming like a crown over a skyline of sculpted glass. Birds darted between lampposts, and the air buzzed with early traffic, engine purrs, and soft jazz bleeding out from a streetside café. It was the kind of morning that smelled expensive—fresh-cut grass, engine oil, and cologne mixed with warm asphalt.
Two luxury cars rolled out from the Goldborne estate’s black-gated entrance, their polished exteriors reflecting the ...
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