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Chapter 30: Red flags and arson
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Chapter 32: Revenge (1)
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... neutral.
It wore neutrality like a well-tailored suit: glass walls that didn’t quite reflect your face, pale stone that never held warmth, and art chosen because no one could accuse it of belonging to a single history. Even the air felt negotiated, filtered, and faintly floral, the type of scent intended to offend no one but still irritated him.
Arion sat behind a desk that was not his, in a chair built for long meetings and short souls. The city pressed flat under a colorless sk ...
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