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... r’s seat to drive himself.
The Rolls-Royce slowly took off.
The prolonged silence in the car calmed Jasmine Yale’s tumultuous emotions.
He didn’t initiate conversation, so she just leaned against the window without saying a word.
Soon, they had left the isolated area, the lively streets made everything that happened in the morning feel like merely a bad dream.
“Mr. Cheney,” she called out from the backseat, gazing at his side profile. “Hmm?” His face was e ...
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