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Have you been to my room before?

She huffed but didn't say a word further. My mouth curled to the side at the expression on her face. It pleased me to know how much my words affected her.

Miguel didn't say a word. He slowly ate his food as he occasionally glanced at me.

“Well, I'm still glad I was the one he painted for back then. I was his muse, you know?” She grinned, infuriating me further.

This stupid woman doesn't know how to take a hint, does she?

“Well,” I placed my spoon on the plate and turned to face her, with a smile on my face. “I'm glad you used past tenses in your sentence. You were his muse, but not any more. Hell, I don't presume you are muse enough for him to stop painting. Guess your face was too ugly for him.” I beamed at her, “you are just like an outdated vintage bag. The wealthy don't need you, and anyone can have you.”

“Hey!” She hit her palm on the table.

“You—” Miguel started to say, but I placed a hand on his, and shook my head, to let him know that I wish to take things on alone.

“You
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