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... and plans covering the table. Circles, arrows, market zones, delivery chains. He hadn’t slept. Again.

Vanessa stirred in the background, hair still damp from a rushed shower. She wore a crisp white blouse, no makeup, and still looked like a walking power move.

Jason handed her coffee. "I’ve been thinking."

She took a sip. "That’s dangerous."

He ignored the flirt. "Ethan’s holding the wholesalers by the throat. We need raw beans, milk, cups—hell, even ice. He’s bl ...

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