Wendoline V.

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Christopher yanked the bottle away from Benny, spilling some onto the table, never breaking eye contact with Anna. “I bought this. I’m not your daddy.” “Wooooow,” Anna muttered. “What’s mine isn’t yours. That’s not how the real world works, beyond this weird little bubble you’ve set up for yourself. You’re not going to steal my prom. I’ll tell you that much.”
Diavola
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