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Chapter 8: A Reluctant Morning Routine.
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Chapter 10: A Favor or a Threat?
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... in his arms like a sack of potatoes. Her face burned red.
"Dad," she hissed, twisting in his hold like a fish out of water. "I can walk. I have legs—two very functional ones."
Ramiro raised an eyebrow, his smirk as infuriating as ever. "And yet, here you are, being carried. Isn't it wonderful to be doted on?"
"Doted on?" Luzia shot him a sharp glare, crossing her arms over her chest. "More like kidnapped. Put me down, or I'll—"
"You'll what?" Ramiro interrupted sm ...
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