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Chapter 68

  • Olivia
  • I didn’t know what irritated me more: Dante’s expression or his silence. It was as if he were searching for something in my face, an answer or maybe confirmation that I was still wounded—and unfortunately, he didn’t have to look very hard to see it. Because I was. All that façade of strength I’d been building seemed to shatter in front of him.
  • “Olivia,” he said again, his tone low and almost cautious.
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