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“Yes,” Dorian replied, not looking at her. “I did.”
“Go away,” she said.
The sixth month, he got sick. A flu that felled the devil himself, leaving him shivering under five blankets, too proud to call his private doctor. Lena found him on the bathroom floor at 2:00 AM, his forehead burning, his silver eyes glassy. contract marriage with the devil billionaire
Ice War
Bad Ice-Cream 3
Bad Ice-Cream 1
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