Alexander Cross stared at Leo De Marco as if looking at a ghost returned from the grave. His fingers clenched into tight, trembling fists at his sides, his chest heaving as the last pillars of his thirty-year delusion collapsed around him. 'You fool!' Cross snarled, abandoning all aristocratic composure, his voice rising in feral, desperate arrogance. 'You think The Covenant was about money? You think I cared about thirty million…
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