Previous chapter:
Chapter 21: Saint by Name, Sinner by Soul.
Next chapter:
Chapter 23: You’re my Type.
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... footsteps.
I couldn’t say I was as pure as I once was — no.
I couldn’t say my cheerful self still existed, or that I was morally intact.
Twelve years in this line of business... constantly with blood on your hands, curses from your victims whispering in your ears — it doesn’t make you the kindest. It makes you a villain. An antagonist in your own story.
One of my greatest fears, when I was younger, was Charles.
Charles finding out.
Charles hating ...
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