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... he warmth to soothe her tense muscles, but her mind refused to settle. The eerie certainty in Feng Yizhou's texts, the way her system refused to give her full access to his data—it all felt too calculated and too deliberate.

She closed her eyes, inhaling the lingering citrus scent.

If the apocalypse were a game of chess, then Feng Yizhou had already positioned himself several moves ahead. The question was: Was she just another piece on his board, or was she playing a game of her ...

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