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CHAPTER ONE-HUNDRED & TWENTY-SIX

Noah's Pov

He came out of the room, and down the stairs, with his head now wrapped in gauze and his robes swapped for a black shirt and trousers. He looked like a haloed angel present at a funeral, ready to take the soul of the deceased. I watched him strut down the spiral stairs, but as he took a bend with his back to me; I quickly removed the box from my pocket and slid it inside a drawer. He made it all the way down, then smiled before he came over to me, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"And I guess you're still here?" he asked.

"And till I get answers..." I answered tough. "I'm sorry for attacking you, but what you said pissed me off..."

"Pissed you off enough to make you want to break my jaw?" he frowned.

But I shrugged.

"I'm surprised you didn't die really..." I said. "I hit hard, and you weren't even prepared for that shot..."

"And I'm a brick wall myself, I'm surprised your hand didn't break to pieces?..." he replied, smirking.

It was funny, but I refrained
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