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... ight leaving him drained. He slumped onto the living room couch, snatching a newspaper to drape over his face as he closed his eyes, willing his body to recover. The faint hum of Beethoven’s piano drifted from Stan’s phone, but he quickly silenced it, glancing at Jason to avoid disturbing him.
Franklin, still bristling from Stan’s presence, sidled up, keeping his voice low. "Yo, welcome to the crew. I know you’re some big-shot DEA chief, but I was here first. I’m the boss’s right-hand ma ...
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