I had a feeling he was lying. With his warning; with what a wealth of hearsay he’d been the other night—it was hard to believe he didn’t know an...thing more about Mr. Caine. Or maybe he only keeps up with the artists. I thought acidly, artists and models.Then a bulb went off in my brain.“Peter,” I breathed, “how well do you know Evelyn X?”“Not very,” he cracked his knuckles, “Why?”I frowned at the floorboards, “She was married to him. Did you know that?”He sighed, slumping his shoulder against. She didn't have many clothes, but the ones he had requested she did have. A simple white blouse and a pleated skirt. They were clean and pressed to a fault. The white blouse she had was old and a little tight through the bust line, but it buttoned down the front like he wanted.She didn't have to wonder why he had requested those items of clothing. She didn't have to imagine because he had told her what he was going to do to her. In lascivious detail, whispering in her ear, describing the. More

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