RONAN"Weeks ago, Ronan, I saw the files you were trying to scrub," my mother says, her voice as smooth as the silk robe she wears, betraying none of the chaos Zli’s presence should be causing. "You told the Syndicate that the 'Ledger' was a contractor named Mike. You thought you were protecting him by giving me a false alias instead of his real name. But really, Ronan, you didn't realize how significant that name is."I look at Zli. He lowers the gun slightly, his fingers trembling against the trigger guard. His voice is barely a whisper, a ghost of the tactical analyst I first met at Club Ombra. "It’s my middle name. I use it because it was my father’s name.""Exactly." My mother’s smirk widens, and she leans back into her mahogany chair, the matriarch in her element. "A man named Mike Lukeson trying to dismantle my empire? Then when I saw you that night at the Vesuvius Room, I knew for sure. You resemble him, Zlliot. You have his eyes—sharp, always looking for the error in the math
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