XXXII. MATTEO ROMANO (POV)

My rage boils, hot and unbearable, in my veins. My throat gets dry, and even so, the words come out, uncontrolled, impulsive, before I can hold them back: ā€œYou're not listening to meā€¦ā€

ā€œI’m not deaf.ā€ He cuts me off, too calm, too steady—the way I never managed to be, no matter how hard I tried.

Blo...

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