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CHAPTER TWELVE

JACE'S POV

Once Dairine was done and their torturous session was over, I radioed Jordan that she should escort the designer to the gate.

It was almost time for Chantelle to leave for the office to meet with the staff of Miller's industries, as her father wanted her to take up the job of COO so she could be more “useful with her time”.

“What happened to you?” Chantelle said, looking at me through her lashes as she smoothed out imaginary dust from her painting.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” I said firmly. Even though I knew she was referring to how I had a minor panic attack. It was my job to protect her, not the other way round.

She shook her head.

“You looked like you saw a ghost! You were as white as a sheet! I need to know what happened.”

“Well, it's none of your business!” I didn't mean to sound harsh but I didn't feel I needed to explain myself. But her reaction made me regret my tone.

I sighed, “I believe it’s PTSD from my time at war.”

“Oh… I'm sorry. Don't they like
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