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security room. The air smelled of stale grease and floor cleaner.
If I show you this, Richard, I need your word you won’t do anything rash, Tony said, his hand hovering over the computer mouse. This isn’t just a family dispute. It’s a conspiracy.
Play it, I ordered.
The screen flickered to life. It was the security feed from the VIP bridal lounge, time continue reading …
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