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Chapter 62: 'What? I can’t do things for you?'

RUM

"Cintilar?" The reporter wrinkled her nose as though she heard something disgusting. She kept a polite smile to hide her honest opinion. “Never heard of him.”

“Her.” I returned an even smile. “Cintilar, Rose is a girl. And I’m glad you don’t know her.”

You’d probably fall in line to mess her up—just as Annie and her gang did.

And me.

Fuck… That feeling returned. The feeling that I wasn’t good enough for anything. I had messed up a werewolf’s life, and I didn’t learn my lesson at all.

“Mr. Rum?” The reporter flashed her white pearlies, her brows knitting with concern.

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you have a type.”

I scoffed inside. Outside, I was giving my best smile—the one I reserved for the papzz. “Everyone has a type, don’t they?”

What kind of a question is that? Isn’t this an interview for the people attending the style awards? Aren’t we supposed to be talking about style and fashion?

She rested her chin on her palm and spread her lips into a sultry smile. “Of course,
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