The Anchor of Neon
The champagne was cold, the jazz was hot, and the air in the penthouse was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and desperation. Arthur Vance stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the neon arteries of 1920s New York pulse below. To the world, he was the Golden Boy of Wall Street, a psychological prodigy who could read a man’s soul by the way he held a martini glass. In reality,...
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