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Dangerous

Christopher

Leila’s eyes shone. “It was good. I went in there cool, calm, and collected. I was confident and stood my ground. I felt like I was facing a tiger, something I had been terrified of for too long. God, it felt good!”

“Good for you,” I told her. “I knew you had it in you. You have this meek, quiet persona, but deep inside, you’re a lioness.”

Her shoulders went back. “I did feel like a lion. A roaring lion. A respectful, quiet lion, but roaring nonetheless.”

“Did he ask about me?” I asked, knowing I was likely the topic of conversation.

“He did,” she answered, but didn’t seem bothered by it.

“And did you tell him about us?”

She grimaced. “Not exactly. He doesn’t need to know. I don’t feel like what we are doing is wrong. I am entitled to a personal life. Not everything I do has to be public knowledge. He’s not my father, even if I get the feeling he thinks he is. I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions.”

“Wow. That’s a change and good for you. Seriously, you look like yo
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