Julian’s POV
The office was pitch black except for the cold blue glow of the monitors and the city lights bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling glass behind me. My third espresso had gone cold hours ago, sitting next to a bottle of whiskey that was definitely more empty than half. Papers were everywhere, like someone had thrown a grenade made of offshore ledgers and Syndicate org charts. Red circles stared back at me like bullet holes.
I leaned back in the chair, my dragon ring tapping the glass desk in that same angry rhythm I couldn’t stop when my head got loud.
Think, Julian.
Come on, think, you bastard.
Leon was probably somewhere laughing his dead ass off, counting money that should’ve been mine.
And the Vice President, Mr. Hale that slippery piece of s**t, was one phone cal
