Chapter 36 THE ICEBERG, THE CORPORATE EXECUTION, AND MY STOCKHOLM SYNDROME.

The ride back to Vega Group was a masterclass in how the temperature of a closed space can go from a hundred degrees to sub-zero in a matter of seconds.

I was still haunted by the ghost of Adrian's lips a millimeter from mine. My skin still tingled where his handkerchief (and his thumb) had brushed...

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