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... ound to the armrests, his ankles secured to the legs of the chair. His dark hair was disheveled, and his shirt was slightly torn, but there were no marks on him— yet.
The others had followed her orders to capture him, however no one touched him because they knew who Cole was. He was her right hand.
And by the look on their faces, she knew what they wanted to ask her. What could Cole of all people do to her that she’d tie him up in the torture room?
His head lifted as she ...
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