You must live for me. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. With nobody who cares … the both of us!" He was real in this moment. She had not gone by the name Lucy during those years but instead had called herself “Mary Lucia Iovelli”. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. ‘Didn’t mean it, love.
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