The Gilded Mirage
The air in Manhattan in 1924 tasted of gin, expensive tobacco, and the electric hum of a city that had forgotten how to sleep. Elias Thorne sat in the penthouse of the Thorne Tower, the lights of Broadway shimmering below him like a fallen galaxy. He was the architect of the invisible; he moved millions with a whisper and collapsed industries with a sigh. Julian Marsh was the opposite. Julian...
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