Isabelle MacLeod

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I dipped my head toward hers. The sweet, slightly tart scent of apples stole into my lungs as I enunciated my next words with crisp precision. “I’m here because I made a deal with your father.” Vivian didn’t back away, but surprise and a hint of uncertainty surfaced in her eyes when I ran a leisurely knuckle over the gold chain around her neck.
King of Wrath (Kings of Sin, #1)
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