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Chapter 45: Taking Your Shares of Consquences
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Chapter 47: Feeling Pathetic: Conviction
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... 17, sleek and cold, the first thing that had ever truly belonged to him. Not borrowed, not tolerated. His.
In the pitch-black of his room, the screen’s blue glare sliced across his face like a blade, etching sharp angles and hollows that made him look older, harder, more dangerous than the boy he’d been forced to play for years.
He tapped open the message.
Not a text. A video. Thirty seconds of pure, calculated sin.
He glanced at the door—locked, deadbolt engaged— ...
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