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Chapter 400: Higher Tolerance for Getting Wrecked
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Chapter 402: Debts Paid in Blood and Dividends
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Not worked in the usual sense—no pressed suit, no neatly combed hair, no controlled posture behind an obsidian desk that reeked of authority. No. He sat in the mansion’s living room, sunk into a velvet chair with his legs sprawled, topless, only his pants on, hair still a wreck from Mira’s claws. His wings twitched occasionally, the faint marks still glowing where her nails had shredded him. He didn’t look like a CFO. He didn’t even look like royalty.
He looked like sin after an all ...
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