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, backwoods nobody marr
eavy silence like broken glass. She shot up from the sil
orm. Her faded jeans and plain gray T‑shirt screamed defiance against the crystal chandeli
‑like armchair. He slammed the base of his oak cane a
omise I made to her grandmother long ago." His
promise? Look at her. She's from Appalachia. A savage
nails bit into her palm. The pressure kept her grounded, like a sm
his eyes faded, replaced by tired resolve. "Fiona
ue with that. But her fury didn't go away. It just shifted, focusin
sion softening just a little. "Child,
er-silent, efficient, like a ghost. "Miss S
t to move, the heavy
ity. Tall, in a tailored charcoal suit that fit him like a second skin. Dark
er in the chair, his mother rigid with anger, and the out‑of‑p
aints. "Julian, thank God you're here. Your grandfather ha
It was an assessment. Cold, clinical, dismissive
h bored, aristocratic disdai
the air. But the contempt in it hit like a physica
Hers were calm, clear blue-flat and unreadable as a frozen lake. The complete lac
fiancée some respec
opping right in front of her, forcing her to crane her neck to look
ven introduce herself?
ess a silent rebuke to his theatrical anger. His smirk flic
addressing his grandfather. "Do what you w
d and ascended the sweeping marble staircase. H
is throat softly. "Thi
, leaving the battlefield behind. Th
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