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CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

Orleans didn’t mirror Anders’ smile. Instead, his face hardened even more, contorting into a twisted version of De Acosta, almost like his mother when things didn’t go her way.

Anders had done business with her on multiple occasions, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he never let people walk all over him, De Acosta would have had her way.

He stepped forward in controlled aggressiveness, and Anders smirked. “I want to ask you how you found me, but then again, a desperate man doesn’t reveal his secrets now, does he?”

“Can we talk?” he said, motioning to Amanda and Lucas standing behind Anders. “Without the company.”

Maybe it had something to do with the scotch bubbling in the pit of his stomach, or the fact that he was in the mood for a fist fight. But, Anders took a dangerous step forward, his immaculate smirk still in place.

“They’re family,” he sneered, placing his hands in his pocket. “But then again, I’m not sure you know what that even means.”

“Hey, Andy,” Amanda called. “Do
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