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"Miss Joyce." A deep, low, and husky voice came through the receiver.
The voice sounded somewhat familiar.
I couldn’t help but frown slightly, but I just couldn’t place who it was.
"You are...?"
"William Westwood."
When I heard the name "William Westwood," I froze for a moment. It took me a few seconds to process it. ’William Westwood?’
’Clara Langley’s ex-husband?’
’Why is he calling me?’
But then I remembered the intimate phot ...
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