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84. At Least, She Wouldn’t Remember

Thud!

“Ugh!”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to play with that girl, Rayven?”

Bhugh!

“Argh!”

“She’s no good for you.”

Smack!

“Hick!”

“And you’re never going to deserve her either.”

Slap!

“Hicc!”

“Look at what you’ve done, Rayven.”

Rayven Ashford – the name he used to have, before he chose to disappear and live a different life as Ryan Wilder.

But here, Rayven blearyly opened his brown eyes, squinting at the taller figure hovering above him.

A middle-aged man looked down at him, disappointment and anger apparent on his face. He was holding both hands, covered by black leather gloves. A strange accessory on his crisp, grey, three-piece suit.

He was Howard Ashford, the man he should call ‘father’ but didn’t act like one. At least, he did

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