PREVIEW
... the last remaining tissue. A slow, dramatic inhale. Then—
"Now," he snarled, voice low and unhinged, "WHERE. IS. MY. CUSTARD?"
The baker, sprawled on the floor with crushed tarts in his hair and sheer terror in his eyes, let out a trembling squeak.
"I—I dropped them!"
Lucien narrowed his eyes so hard it looked like he was trying to laser through the man’s soul.
"You. Dropped. The. Custard?"
The room trembled—not fr ...
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