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Chapter 296 Inder Sephtis [13]
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"Ask."
I turned, leaning against the edge of the table, arms crossed as I sized Aimar up.
He was dressed sharply in a waiter's uniform—white sleeves rolled neatly under a black waistcoat, his usual annoyed look in place.
"If you woke up," I began, watching him, "completely oiled up on top of a mountain, with a black eye and... uh... a sharp stinging pain in the backdoor, would you tell anyone?"
His head jerked up in disbelief. "What type of questio—."
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