Chapter 187 one hundred and eighty seven

A Ifeoma 1.4k words

ROWEN

I sat in the back of the Maybach, legs crossed, fingers absently drumming against my knee as the golden hue of New York's evening bathed the sleek black windows of Grayson Towers.

Outside, the city pulsed with its usual rhythm of horns blaring, pedestrians rushing home, neon lights flickering to...

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