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Chapter Thirteen

I felt even worse after hearing that from Enrique. Sure, it would save me—it would probably paint Drey for cheating because he was longing to be loved and felt suffocated over a deal yadda, yadda.

At some point, they’d feel anger… and then remorseful because he did not have a choice but to sacrifice himself just to save their family. And then probably be forgotten after a few weeks.

What a fucking plot—it makes me want to subscribe… not.

The funny thing about these people? They glorify men (because that’s how low they can go, honestly) but they’ll keep on pitting women against women. For them—that’s where the entertainment stems from. Women drama. Emotions. Anger. Frustrations.

Screw that.

I won’t submit to that.

I would be caught lying if I say I wasn’t troubled—I knew I was and I still am. I never wanted to be caught in between a fucked-up love triangle, and I wasn’t desperate enough to be in one, too. But I wasn’t going to celebrate

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