"Look at the red, Scar. It’s not just a dip anymore; it’s a hemorrhage," Roman said, his voice a low, vibrating hum against my ear.I leaned into him, the scratchy wool of the blanket still draped over my bare shoulders. We were tangled on the cot, the cold morning air of the shack biting at our skin, but the heat coming off the tablet was enough to burn. On the screen, the Reed Global stock ticker was a jagged, falling knife. It hadn't just opened low; it was plummeting so fast the circuit breakers were tripping every ten minutes."Is that because of the Northcrest files? The ones Miller sent?" I whispered."It’s everything," Roman muttered, his fingers ghosting over the screen. "The Switzerland logs, the 'Angel' audio, and now the Apex manifest. The market doesn't care about morality, but it hates a liability. And right now, Marcus is the biggest liability on the East Coast.""What are they doing? The people in the building?""They’re turning on him," he said, a dark, jagged sliver
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