Rebeca Ortiz

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“You thought gold and power was your ascension, but it’ll be your downfall. You thought you could hoard me forever, but I’ll disappear right out from under your nose.” That pounding against my ribs hammers louder, shoots sparks off my soul. “You’ll be a laughingstock. Hated. Destitute.”
Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)
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