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CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Carter's POV.

I'm beginning to think that, when I told that girl that I didn't want her on my bed, she thought I was joking. It is enough that I have to share a room with her against my wish and the least I expect from her is any form of disrespect. Not wanting her on my bed also means that nothing of hers should be seen on it. The sight of her irritates me so badly. I would kill her at any given opportunity, I swear. To me, she is not worth living. She ought to be dead just like her father.

Just what did she think she could do when I got in the room this morning? She saw me all bruised up and thought it wise to render her help. Even if she could help, I wouldn't let her use her filthy hands to touch me.

Goodness!

How did my father even let this happen? Can't he see that, he is slowly draining the life out of me by making me live with that girl? It's aching and actually it makes me want to do something stupid each time I set my eyes on her.

Her scent has been all
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