were still scattered around, a book on the nightstand, my robe on the bac
d. It was a te
ty will be up in one hour to escort you out. Your belongings will
and efficient. Fiancee. Our home. T
dically, clinically. The silk lingerie he liked, the expensive dresses he bought
y college days, a framed photo of my grandmother, a simple pair of je
o, that arrogant, handsome face. For five years, he had been the center of my
There was nothing left for me there. As I stepped into the hallway, I saw the two security guards
ot a victim to be pitied. I was a King, and I had
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