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When Sofia arrived, the first thing she said was, “Holy shit.” Then she saw my bleeding fingers, and her expression turned cold. “You bastard!” she snarled.
She went for Dante, slapping him hard across the head, which seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He looked from Sofia to me, then to the movers who had come in with her, and demanded:
“What the hell are you doing?”
I just replied coldly, “Making room for your little pet.”
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