The dossier sat on Liam Cross’s desk, a thin, unassuming stack of paper that weighed more than the building it was housed in.
It was 8 AM. The city outside was waking up, a gray, indifferent beast stretching its limbs. But inside the glass office, time had stopped.
Liam sat in his chair, his back rigid, his hands resting on the mahogany surface on either side of the file. He hadn't opened it yet.
Blackwood had delivered it personally, ten minutes ago.
"We found the partner," Blackwood had said, his voice devoid of triumph, heavy with something else. Something like awe. "And we found the 'why'."
Liam looked at the cover of the file. It was blank.
He was a man who built his life on data. On facts. On knowing the answer before the question was asked. But this... this felt like opening a
