The Iron Exchange

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2026-05-31 06:35:37 -

The Iron Exchange

The heat in New Orleans does not merely exist—it presses. It sits on your chest like a hand, heavy and unyielding, reminding you that the air itself has weight and opinion. Julian Beauregard knew this weight. He had carried it since the day his father died, which was the same day the last of the family's cotton fields was seized by the bank. It had been twelve years since the war. Twelve years...

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