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Manhattan.
The East Village.
A yellow Corolla drove slowly down the street, turning into the driveway of the orange-hued, single-family home that had changed hands a month ago, and heading up toward the garage.
As Gwen pulled up, the garage door opened automatically. She drove inside, parking next to a black Audi A8 that gleamed under the lights.
The Audi was Hawk’s. He’d bough ...
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