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Slowly. Gently. As if she were holding something fragile enough to shatter.
“Sir,” Elena said, her voice small but steady. “I was just—”
“You were hired to clean,” Dominic roared, cutting her off. “Not to turn my kitchen into a circus.”
Mia began to cry.
A small, strangled sound of fear.
She ran behind Elena’s legs and grabbed her skirt with both hands.continue reading …
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