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like a gunshot.
Every head turned.
Carmine’s hand dropped instinctively to the gun under his jacket.
Alexander turned slowly, his gray eyes narrowing.
He looked at her like a piece of furniture had started speaking.
“What did you just say?”
Clara’s palms were sweating.
But she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“I said you can’t cut it open, Mr. Romano. The continue reading …
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