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... ía José, Don Diego’s own flesh and blood... like she was nothing? Like her only fucking purpose in life was to be scapegoated whenever something went wrong?

My breath came in sharp bursts through my nose, my entire body quivering with the effort it took to not storm over there and tear them both apart.

I had known Don Diego was cruel. That much was obvious from the moment I found María José in that butchery. But this?

This was something else.

This ...

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