The Wistful Throne
The banquet hall of the Sterling Corporation headquarters in Chicago was a cathedral of glass and steel, a place where the air was scrubbed clean of scent and temperature, leaving only the sterile hum of climate control and the low, vibrating bass of ambition. I sat at the head of the long, mahogany table, a piece of furniture so polished it reflected my own face back at me, distorted and...
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