CHAPTER 259

*ALINA

He was wearing a pink fucking suit.

Not light pink.

Not subtle pink.

Not maybe-it's-salmon-if-you-squint pink.

Pink.

Bright.

Bubblegum.

Offensively pastel.

The kind of pink that belonged on little girls' bicycles and Valentine's Day cards—not on the most feared man in the city.

Yet ...

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