Chapter Three Hundred Sixty-Nine

ANASTACIA

“Fuck!” I snarl, leaping from my seat on Paul’s lap to pace the kitchen. “It’s not going to work,” I growl out, not giving a fuck that Breesi is in the room.

She’s well in her haze now and not even paying attention to me as Goose feeds her sausage off the end of his fork.

“Well, bac...

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