Epilogue

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(Theo's P

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(Theo's P.O.V.)

"I knew you'd come." Ace Angelo smiled knowingly, not bothering to look up from the papers in his hand.

"Then you must know why I have come."

"It will be satisfying to hear you say it." His smile stretched into a smirk, his eyes glinting with pleasure.

He knew. He knew very well what I had come to ask of him.

I didn't know when he had managed to slip the address into my pocket, but he had to have known that I would come. That I would be so sure of what I wanted.

I looked at my hands . . . hands that I had shot Anastasia Rossett with. I felt no remorse. I knew she wasn't dead. My mother, however, was.

Anastasia was a rose, she had proved it.

She had managed to capture my attention, made me admire her . . . and then, she had pricked me . . . pricked me and caused me to bleed.

And I wanted her to bleed too. I wanted her to be crushed.

"I want Anastasia Rossett dead."

"

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