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CHAPTER 147

FARRAH

There's a cold compress on my forehead, and Phoebe is now massaging my feet with what smells like lavender and mint. Classical music is playing, creating a calm atmosphere.

Supposedly calm according to my sister, who is trying to get my mind off the fact that my husband is fucking locked up. For human trafficking no less.

I know he has the deal with the FBI, so why the hell did they arrest him?

I don't have the heart to tell Phoebe that the smell of mint is actually making me nauseous. She's been doing everything to try to keep me calm ever since we saw the damn news.

The media is probably having a field day.

There's a soft knock, and I open my eyes to see Dario's head pop into the door. He's a sight for sore eyes.

"Can I come in?" He asks softly.

I press the button to elevate the bed. "Please, and switch off that music for fuck's sake!"

Phoebe looks offended and immediately stops massaging my feet. "For your information, playing classical music during pregnancy helps
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