By 9:00 PM, the rain had returned to the harbor, tapping a gentle, rhythmic cadence against the high casement windows of the waterfront loft. On the coffee table between them, empty white paper containers of spicy basil noodles and lemongrass chicken sat beside scattered legal dossiers and corporate flowcharts. The initial shock of discovering Marcus Vance's name on the Delaware registry had settled into a grim, focused determination. Adrian stood…
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