What begins as a case about a missing gemstone quickly unravels into a global conspiracy of offshore accounts, international arms deals, and a data trail encrypted in blood and silence. The sapphire isn't just valuable, it's a key to Maxwell's shadow empire, one that corrupts or kills anyone who touches it.
From penthouse vaults to Chinatown alleys, Bangkok rooftops to smoke-choked jazz lounges, Dempsey wades through the lies of femme fatales, rogue mercenaries, and ghosts from his own past. Each chapter punches like a .38 slug, fast, sharp, and unforgiving.
Then there's Lila Chen. A woman with a snake tattoo and more secrets than scars, whose trail runs cold two years after a job gone wrong in Bangkok. As the bodies stack up, Dempsey realizes the truth isn't just elusive, it's weaponized.
A brutal collision of noir style and modern espionage, The Cobalt Mirage is soaked in cigarette smoke, framed by neon, and narrated in whiskey-stained prose. Gritty, fast-paced, and darkly poetic, this is noir for the 21st century. A story where curses are spreadsheets, and the only thing more dangerous than the lies... is the truth.
If Raymond Chandler and John le Carré had a love child raised on cybercrime and jazz records, it would read like this.
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