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Chapter 5: Luciano Solis De La Vega
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Chapter 7: My Pequeña Paloma
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... focating presence—a noxious blend of William’s fear, cold industrial air, the coppery scent of fresh blood, lingering pointlessly in the background.
William’s breath came in uneven, ragged pulls, each gasp a struggle against the searing pain radiating from his freshly wounded thigh. The ropes biting into his wrists were unforgiving, leaving angry, raised red welts against his clammy skin.
Luciano Solis De La Vega regarded him with an exquisite, cool, almost bored expression, tre ...
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