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... noble house.
His hair was slicked back, and an ostentatious ring shone on his gloved finger as he adjusted his collar with theatrical flair.
He had the look of someone who thought himself important—chin slightly raised, sneer permanently carved into his lips—the kind of face people instinctively wanted to punch.
Thomas’s expression darkened. "Damon," he muttered. "Should’ve known you’d crawl out eventually."
Damon smirked wider. "And here I thought that poison fi ...
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