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CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Enya pov

Is it just me, or is this man far too curious? "Why so?" Vincent asks as he stares at the dishes. He looks like there is nothing more fascinating than the thin layer of bubbles covering them. The focus in his eyes and all over his face is way too intense. Weirdo.

I shrug and rinse my plate. "I don't know. I'm the only one without someone back home. Maybe it's just because I don't believe in love? Neither does my dad, so I really don't know if it's real. I don't believe in things I can't see." Explaining anything even remotely related to feelings is a pain in the ass for me. Since I was about three years old, my father has told me how dangerous it is to feel. If I ever let anyone get too close, they could use it against me. Letting down the walls I have built seems like the biggest waste of time. It took me so much time to get to where I am now, a

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