The Identity Game
The rain in London didn't just fall; it dissolved the city into a smudge of charcoal and neon. Leo sat in a dimly lit booth at a Soho club, watching the reflection of his own face in a glass of overpriced scotch. The face was not his. It belonged to Julian Vane, a financial prodigy who had vanished three months ago, leaving behind a void in the City and a digital footprint that was a...
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