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... ss, akin to a startled young deer, stumbling into the room. The hem of her dress fluttered lightly with her movement, resembling a blooming flower.
The hotel room was shrouded in darkness, and through the moonlight, Vivian Lynch could not see the man’s face but vaguely perceived a tall, blurred figure.
Bathed in moonlight, the man stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his fair skin shining, slender fingers fiddling with a string of sandalwood Buddha beads. His brows and eyes ...
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