THE QUEEN OF LIES

was unusual, especially for someone who didn't b

He knew the names that mattered. The old families whose fortunes were written in stone, the new mo

peep. "Rich. Very rich," she'd claimed. But Charlie couldn't recall the last time he'd even overheard the

a sixth sense honed by years of lies and missing

ken from a nap. The screen flickered, displaying the usual battlefield of sticky notes a

ng in the room like gunfire, and began typing

mystery lingering in his gut. The first hit blinked back at him:

ance, real estate, green energy, and offshore logistics-every buzzword of modern empire-building wrapped into

on? Over $8.3 billion, according to the last report. Charlie blinked at the number, reread it just to be

egory Babel. Founder. CEO. A ghost in the flesh. Born in Quebec, raised in Ottawa, a math prodigy who'd made his first million befor

hat stuck, no scandals with legs. Married. One child-deceased. His investments were a labyrinth, designed to

the headlines before they could print. Gregory Babel

knowing the players in this game, and Gregory Babel played it like a phantom king. Maybe it was calculated. Maybe Ba

wer. He was the kind of man who could make a politician sweat with a

But the result? Nothing. Not a ghost of a maiden name. No school records, no employment history, no address before her marriage. No social me

ng, "Gregory Babel wife wedding." One hit. A single, dusty photo buried in a ten-ye

im, a younger woman in white. Her face was hidden by a large hat, its brim casting shadows that swallowed her identity. No guests list

oman, Veronica, has no public profile and was n

ed. "No public profile

tup stars, European heiresses, or political daughters. But this? No school. No paper trail. No presence. Nothing

eone made

surgical removal. And in his experience, people erased their pasts for one of two reasons: to escape something... or someone. Either way, it meant danger. Secrets

ent to fall into that digital rabbit hole. Not yet. He needed information from boo

s ear. Time to head to the 5th Precinct on Maple and Thorn. If anyone had dirt on the Babels, or this s

the city. It was the kind of rain that didn't soak you but made your skin prickle. A quiet rain. The kind that made you feel watched. He flippe

ie

ilt of her head. The deliberate way she paused between words. The strange cold

lity. Still, something about her didn't just confuse him. It unsettled

ing that he wasn't c

lled into someo

t even seen