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Chapter Eight

Author: Bug
last update publish date: 2026-04-23 02:56:22

ADRIAN’S POV

The ink was barely dry on the marriage license, the black lines still glistening against the cream paper.

Elara stood there, her chest heaving as if she’d just run five miles uphill. She was still clutching that pen like it was a dagger, her knuckles white, her gaze a jagged mix of total defiance and a heartbreak so raw it made my own lungs ache just to look at her.

She reached for her bag, her fingers brushing over that hideous, oversized thrift-store blazer—the one she
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