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Chapter 8

Thump.

Thunk.

Thump.

Thunk.

I slammed my fist down on my desk in complete and utter irritation from this man-child, hissing, "Don't you have your own company to run? What the hell are you doing in my office on a Tuesday morning?" 

Benedict froze mid-swing with another pen sitting loosely between his fingers. He cocked his head side, feigning innocence. "But I'm visiting my friend?" 

I frustratingly rubbed my circles against my temple, grumbling, "I need ...

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