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Thinking Hard

When I stood before the mirror in the large, spacious bathroom, I could see that my stomach was still firm, and there was no outward indication of the change in my body. which was good, I thought grimly.

I looked around me again—at the little house where we had spent so many hours in love.

I had blissfully imagined it to be ours, a love nest, but now I saw it for what it was, the way the world looked at it: a House to Keep a Mistress.

to be vacated when the next one turned up.

Sinking to the floor wearily, I asked myself, "Had it ever been love?"

Lucien had never once told me that he loved me.

Even in the heat of our lovemaking, a part of him was always in control. Even when his pale eyes glittered in lust, he was able to be in charge, while I must have said that I loved him a million times!

The brutal truth was staring me in the face now, and I knew I had no options left.

For the Mafia Don, my lover, I was just a woman who had taken his fancy for some obscure reason.

The spring and w
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