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... ’t worry guys"
Marcus whispered to the group, straightening his Armani tie with trembling fingers.
His chest puffed up like a peacock. "My father owns one of the best media stations in this country. I’ll handle this."
His voice carried the practiced confidence of someone used to throwing around his family name to get out of trouble.
The others huddled behind him like frightened children, using his bravado as a shield.
Sarah’s perfectly manicured nails dug ...
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