Chapter 67 Confession No. 49 Sleeping with the Enemy’s Daughter

They said she was soft.

Spoiled. Obedient. Daddy’s little porcelain doll.

But when I stormed her father’s villa with blood on my gloves and a grudge spanning three years, softness was the last thing I found.

I expected fear.

I got fire.

The sky outside was soaked in violet dusk, the pool reflec...

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