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SEVENTY-SEVEN.

I slowly stand up from the ground, wiping my hands down the front of my clothes, tucking the loose strands from my top knot behind my ears, and I finish placing the rest of my roses into the crystal vase.

Every fibre in my body is screaming at me to ask Wicked where Ace is. But I also don’t want to take this moment away from Ele.

She believed for many weeks that Wicked had forgotten about us; about her.

She believed that she was an absolute menace, wreaking havoc wherever she went, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. Lives were ruthlessly snuffed out, sacrificed in the trail of her existence.

The toll of her actions was immeasurable, a dark cloud of tragedy hanging heavy over her every step.

And now that Wicked is here, clearing the air between them and openly claiming Ele with his mouth, I would rather not ruin the moment for her.

Hell… I’d be fucking furious if someone interrupted Ace staking his claim upon me.

Ele needs this.

She needs him, and I’m happy for her.

I look u
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