He Raised His Hand To Silence Me One Last Time. Instead, He Opened The Door To A Destruction So Complete That Even His Mother Couldn’t Save Him. At exactly seven-thirty the next morning, the smell of fresh bread, rosemary potatoes, bacon, and cinnamon filled the mansion. The dining room looked like something torn from the pages of a luxury magazine. Crystal glasses sparkled beneath the chandelier. Silver serving trays covered the twelve-seat table. Candles flickered softly despite the morning sun creeping through the massive windows. And at the center of it all, I stood calmly in a cream-colored dress, pouring...
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