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... led out his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Mark," he said when his assistant answered.

There was a pause. Then the shock in Mark’s voice. "Sir? Is everything alright?"

"My daughter is dead," Blake said simply. "She slit her own wrist."

Silence followed.

"No..." Mark whispered. "Miss Natalie? That cannot be... I am so sorry, sir. My condolences. But... are you sure? She... she never seemed like someone who would..."

"I know," Blake replied, hi ...

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