The Mafia King’s Forbidden Heir

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Chapter 126

Jeffrey's fingers found the grip of the Sig Sauer. His palm was slick with cold sweat.

Shoot me.

The Postman's lips had shaped those two words in the flickering fluorescent half-light.

"Something wrong, Vince?" Harold's voice drifted in from his left, almost amused. "You hesitating? That's not t...

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