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Chapter 43 Your End Father

Alexander Vittorio POV

I’m still angry as fuck at that idiot who tried to make a move on my woman, then insulted her in front of me.

The memory of burying two bullets in Bernie's gut and ordering Peter to let him bleed out before disposing of the body is the only thing keeping me calm.

It’s been a fucking week, and Anya is taking her sweet time packing. We’ve already put Vincent to bed, and my boy is in dreamland, yet it doesn’t look like we’ll be going to bed soon.

I glare at the box of linen, then mutter, “Why do you like to make me suffer?”

She gives me a surprised look. “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything.”

I give the box another glare. “You’re taking forever to pack. Are you doing it on purpose?”

She climbs to her feet and lifts her chin. “Don’t take your foul mood out on me.”

Instantly I school my face into that of a saint. “I’m sorry, moya malen'kaya lyubov'. It’s just as soon as I have you and Vincent safely in my place, I can go to the Philippines to take care of busin
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