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1229 Words

Well, that’s some f****d-up thinking. Dad’s done a real number on you. I had to fight back a sigh as Conner drove us to his club. I didn’t want to think my husband was capable of manipulating me like my father had, but it was hard to squash the suspicions. I felt compelled to be on my guard, just in case. It was mind-boggling how quickly life could be snuffed out or stolen. The club entrance was quiet like it’d been on my first visit. I wondered what it was like at night—did people line up outside, or was it more like a speakeasy with secret knocks and lookouts? Maybe I’d just seen too many movies. Shae was absent this time around, but the best man at our wedding was lounging on Conner’s sofa when we reached his office. “If you’re that tired, man, just go home,” Conner grumbled, alerti

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