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Chapter 24: I’m Not Mrs De La Vega
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Chapter 26: Your What
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... ythmic crash of the Barcelona waves, the murmur of tourists passing the restaurant’s terrace, even the golden warmth of the setting sun—all of it blurred into the background as the man across from her leaned back in his chair with the leisurely ease of someone discussing the weather, not the orchestration of murder.
He regarded her with calm, analytical eyes—eyes the color of polished steel. She felt like a puzzle piece he already knew how to fit, even if she herself was still desperate ...
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