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Chapter 73: The Maid Wears Prada*
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Chapter 75: Going Live With My Hubby
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... obbing exit was heavy enough to crush a lesser woman.
At the far end of the room, sitting in a wingback chair that looked like it cost more than the GDP of a small island nation, was Grandfather Sinclair.
He wasn’t a withered king; he was a shark in a three-piece suit. He held a cane topped with a silver lion’s head, his knuckles white as he gripped it, but his posture was rigid, impeccable. His eyes—cold, hard, and devoid of the gold warmth that Damien’s held—were fixed on Aria. ...
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