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THE PRICE OF REBELLION

Cleo's POV

I stirred awake, my head throbbing like a drumbeat, the dull ache radiating through my skull. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t respond. I blinked, my vision hazy and blurred as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. My breath hitched when I finally took on where I was, a dark grimy room, the air thick with smoke that rose lazily from a fire burning inside a rusty old drum.

The heat from the fire flickered across the walls, casting long, ominous shadows that seemed to dance mockingly around me. I strained against the ropes biting into my skin, my heart racing as the reality of my situation settled in. I wasn’t free. I hadn’t escaped. I had been caught.

Panic flared in my chest, but before I could react, a figure stepped into my line of sight, his movements slow and deliberate. I squinted, my eyes watering from the smoke, and my heart sank when the figure resolved into someone all too familiar.

Russo sat casually on a stool in front of me, his posture relaxed but
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