The Monument of Dignity
The jazz in 1924 New York didn't just play; it screamed. It was the sound of a generation trying to drown out the memory of trenches and mustard gas with champagne and saxophone. Elias stood on the balcony of his penthouse, watching the glittering swarm of the city below. He was a man of two worlds: a disgraced aristocrat by day, and a hunter of the void by night. His apartment was a cathedral...
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