“Unblinking, he whispers, “John… John Chevelle.”
A bolt of lightning zaps me in the gut. I have to fight not to purr.
“Good boy,” I croon, with a brush of my thumb over his quivering bottom lip. “I’m Manuel Blanco. The Ivory… And you work for me now.”
Oh my god oh my god oh my god
— Apr 05, 2026 10:46AM
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