Max Hartwell stood at the edge of the city, the skyline a jagged silhouette against the bruised dawn. The ledger felt like a lead weight in his coat pocket, a small book that could topple empires. His knuckles were still raw from the encounter with Moretti, each throb a reminder of the price he paid. He lit a cigarette, the flame flickering in the early morning breeze, and took a long drag. The smoke curled up into the air, mingling with the fog rolling off the harbor.
He'd left a trail of blood and broken bones to get this far, but Harper's words haunted him. Was he just a pawn in someone else's game? The city had a way of chewing up men like him and spitting them out, but Max wasn't ready to be discarded yet.
