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... mming against the side of his whiskey glass. The liquid sloshed inside, but he barely noticed. His other hand raked through his hair for the hundredth time, his breaths coming shallow and uneven.
The only sound was the quiet ticking of the wall clock. A sound that had become unbearable over the past hour.
Where was the call?
His assassin should have checked in by now. It was a simple job. Get in, kill Cain, and disappear. A clean, silent execution. Yet, the silence stretc ...
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