The Pale Dance
The toast had gone flat, but the index card in Nadia Mahfouz’s hand remained stiff with the weight of the lie she was about to sign. Chapter One “Your father’s ledgers are a mess, Miss Mahfouz,” Youssef Benali said, swirling the cheap wine in his glass as the banquet hall hummed with the clatter of silverware. “I expect you to clean it up by Friday, or I’ll find someone who can.” Nadia,...
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