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54 - DEVLIN

"I was just on my way to you," Gavin pauses in front of me, pushing the table with the vase out of the way roughly. "Why are you by yourself?"

There's an edge to his voice, but as I look up at him, none of the anger shows through. His face is a blank slate, emotionless in the same manner Corbyn’s is.

I could go back to being sweet, innocent, Devlin and apologize, but apologies will get me nowhere.

It’s another test.

His finger curls under my jaw, tipping it up as his thumb plants firmly against my chin.

“Am I not free to walk around my own home?”

“You should-”

“Have a guard?” I ask, and the amusement breaks through his mask of indifference. While Trent got most of his looks from Gavin, he’s never had the truly removed way about him that makes it possible to be as cruel as he is. Trent, however, did inherit Gavin’s impatience that I can see thinning. “Trent left, I wanted to find him.”

Gavin pulls a round ottoman from behind him, sitting directly in front of me. His rough
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