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... ggestion.

"Let's try a normal date," I said. Simple. Harmless.

But in hindsight, that was the dumbest, most reckless idea I'd ever had.

Two hours later...

I found myself standing outside the busiest shopping mall in the city, desperately trying to blend in while the most dangerous woman in existence stood beside me... disguised.

At least, that's what she claimed.

Her version of a "disguise"?

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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