Earl
The silk of my dress shirt slid smoothly over my skin as I buttoned it up, my movements intentional. The mirror reflected back a man who had long since mastered control of his emotions, of his reactions, of the world around him. But tonight, that control would be tested.
I adjusted my cuffs, rolling my shoulders as the fabric settled into place. The crisp white contrasted sharply against the black vest I fastened over it. My fingers moved expertly, the same way they did when handling a gun, a pen, or the fragile balance between patience and vengeance.
Reese Keeler’s birthday. A night of champagne and politics, of carefully chosen words and silly role-plays. But that wasn’t why I was going.
I slipped on my watch, pressing a button on the side. A single ring later, the call connecte
