The Proof of Love
The jazz in the club was a frantic, golden noise, a desperate attempt to drown out the silence of the 1920s. Julian leaned against the mahogany bar, his tuxedo slightly frayed at the cuffs, watching the flappers dance in a blur of sequins and champagne. To the world, he was another decadent son of privilege, a mathematician who had traded his theorems for gin. But in the pocket of his jacket,...
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