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The real enemy

***

Meanwhile, on the southern islands, Damon was out of it and scared out of his mind. No news from Thalia was even bad or worse news, and he hadn’t heard anything back from her; it had him on edge, and now he was sure that not only Father but Arya had noticed too.

Damon sat in his dark study, brooding over warm whiskey that he doused in shots down his throat. He had not yet mentioned to his father the possibility that Brynn was alive; he would rather not be looked at by his father like a failure, and he wanted to take care of it discreetly, but how?

How could he do that when he has not even had the chance to get a little glimpse of her face, much less have a conversation? For all he knew, she might be scheming and telling Killian all manner of things that might end up canceling the project and contract he had strived to get for years now. “No!” Damon hissed as he let the cup on his head hit the wall with a loud smash that echoed around his office, and a moment later his father open
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