Chapter 21 The Art of War

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Chapter 21: 21 The Art of War

The car ride to Lacroix’s headquarters was a silent, charged space. The morning’s tension hadn’t dissipated; it had been compressed, sharpened into a focused, lethal energy.

Charles sat opposite me, his tablet open, but he wasn’t reading. He was watching me. His gaze was no longer just assessing; it was measuring, calculating, as if trying to solve a complex puzzle where I was the central, most unpredictable variable.

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