Isabella

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“What’s wrong, baby? Just tell them to go away,” the woman beneath him says in an annoying, nasal whine. My blood roars. This better not be who I think it is. The woman shifts to look at me. And it’s exactly who I think it is—Vonnie. “Oh, it’s just you,” she says.
Isabella
Omfg
Contractually Yours (The Lasker Brothers, #4)
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