The Golden Scar
The man on the table spat blood onto the white tile, a bright red stain that looked like a wound in the floor. "Talk," you said, your voice steady, though your left shoulder screamed a warning that had nothing to do with the prisoner’s silence. You were Elias Thorne, thirty-four years old, a senior enforcer in the Ministry of Purity, and you needed the promotion. You needed it for Mara. Her...
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