Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. “You no longer belong to Gianfrancesco. Since Jack has left us, what does it matter whether he's pleased or not?" At this moment, a whistle was heard. Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. ‘You are an avid reader, I take it. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly.
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