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... silence of the ride over, nor the frantic, painful silence of Damien’s earlier episode. It was a comfortable, drowsy silence.
Damien’s breathing had evened out. The deep furrow between his brows had smoothed. He was still holding Aria—he hadn’t let go even after the car stopped at the private underground entrance of the hotel—but the desperate, crushing grip had loosened into a heavy, possessive weight.
"We’re here, sir," Ken whispered from the front seat, terrified to break the ...
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