Chapter 77 79

IVAN

Cora’s face is pale, her eyes wide. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.

Or maybe she just caught a stray glimpse of herself in the mirror.

“What,” I ask, looking her over from frilly head to bedazzled toe, “in the hell are you wearing?”

Anya elbows me in the side. “It’s a wedding dress, assh...

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