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...

His blue eyes gleamed, cold yet alive with something almost wicked.

"Though..." He exhaled, running a lazy hand through his wet hair. "The Damien who no longer bothers to put up a facade."

And seeing that, Elysia couldn't make sense of this.

This situation.

This man.

The Damien Elford she had known—spoiled, weak, self-indulgent—would never speak like this. Would never look at her like this. Would never hold himself with such effortless control.

...

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