Chapter 113 Saying Goodbye

• The morning air was sharp, the kind that slices into your lungs before you’re even awake enough to feel the cold.
• Alexander adjusted his cufflinks absently, the polished metal flashing in the pale light as he stepped out of his car. The city hummed behind him, sirens in the distance, engines coughing awake, ambition bleeding into asphalt. He moved toward the gate of his company like a man in control, king of glass towers and bloodless takeovers.
• Until the blue jackets swarmed him.