The Faded Attic
The champagne was cold, but the air in the Meridian Insurance Group’s penthouse suite was stiflingly hot, thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the humid exhalations of forty people in suits. Elias Thorne stood by the window, his reflection ghosting against the glass, watching the city lights blur into streaks of gold and red. He was thirty-two, an actuary, and he needed the Senior...
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