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Chapter Thirty One
last update2025-07-12 23:27:36

Elias Kane stood over the main table, one palm flat on the cold glass as a dozen monitors lit his face in harsh blue light. On the screens: bank records, old photographs, timestamps of Duval’s phone calls. The Monaco fixer hadn’t slept. Neither had Elias. Neither could afford to.

Lena leaned against the far wall, arms folded, dark circles under her eyes but a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. She liked this — the hunt, the blood scent.

“He’s given us six accounts so far,” she said. “One flagged in Zurich, three in Dubai, two hidden under a shipping company in Cyprus. It’s Roarke’s backbone. He runs everything through these shells — real estate, bribes, dirty supply lines.”

Marcus sat nearby, boots propped on a crate of old files. He was rolling a toothpick between his teeth. “And Duval’s ready to testify?”

Elias didn’t look up. “If he wants to live.”

Lena stepped closer, tapping a folder on the table. “If we move now, we can freeze these assets. The moment the Feds see proof Du
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