The Catalyst in Callahan Street
Vincent Callahan had built his empire on a lie, and like all good lies, it had started with something small enough to be believable, something so minor that no one had thought to question it when he first introduced it to the conversation. It was a single sentence, spoken in the back of a speakeasy on South State Street in the winter of 1921, and it was this: the rival crew had poisoned a...
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