The Pale Mist

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 22:00:31 -

The Pale Mist

The gala was a symphony of clinking crystal and hushed, desperate ambition. The air smelled of expensive perfume and stale champagne. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the main hall, his eyes fixed on the central podium. He was not a guest. He was a shadow. He wore a suit that had been tailored for a man who was larger, or perhaps just more confident. The fabric strained across his shoulders....

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