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to the Hamptons.
To the Romano estate.
To a maid’s uniform.
And now, staring at the brass masterpiece built into the wall, Clara understood something that nearly knocked the breath from her body.
Her father had not simply vanished.
He had built the Leviathan.
“Carmine,” Alexander barked.
His hulking underboss stepped forward.
“Bring me the thermal lances. continue reading …
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