The Night of the Shooting.The snow fell heavily that night. White flakes piled up on the sidewalk, muffling the sounds of the city into a long, endless whisper. From a distance, the lights of the buildings reflected off the layer of snow, giving off a cold yet suffocating aura—as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to explode.And something did explode.Vendrake–Holt Casino, South District. 9:14 PM.The casino floor was ablaze with lights and the sound of slot machines. Still, Clarisse, sitting at a VIP table with a glass of champagne that had already formed condensation, could feel the tension settling in the air. She had already met with two members of the Holt business council today, and everything revolved around one topic:Adrian Cassel was becoming dangerous.She felt uneasy. For some reason, the cold tonight felt bone-chilling, unlike usual.She glanced at her thigh, which still ached from a bruise she had sustained a few days ago—the result of her
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