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“My name and God’s don’t belong in the same sentence, bella,” he rasps, his voice as rough as the rock below us. “One is holy, and the other is depraved.”
Enzo Vitale. Thirty-four years old. Born November 12th—Scorpio; Lord, help me. Six-four—so he is a foot taller. Hazel eyes. He’s as delicious on paper as he is in the flesh.
