POV: Julian Cross
The folder sat on his desk, still locked away in the drawer.
Julian poured whiskey he didn't want to drink and moved to the window of his private office. Forty-two floors up, the city looked like it belonged to someone else. Below, people were making decisions based on incomplete information, just like he was. Just like everyone was, eventually.
The shell company was real. Meridian Holdings existed for exactly the purpose Iris had guessed at, acquiring information through channels that law enforcement couldn't access. But not to purchase a murder. To investigate one.
