The Golden Oath
The rain hit the pavement in long, silver sheets. It was a cold Tuesday. "Are you listening to me, Mr. Ashworth?" Thomas Ashworth looked up. His glasses were fogged. He wiped them on his sleeve. The fabric was wool. It was thin. "I am listening," Thomas said. His voice was low. It was steady. The man across the table leaned back. His name was Julian Vane. He wore a suit that cost more than...
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