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“In her naïve imaginings, he had been like the tortured hero of a gothic romance, possessing a heart filled with dark passions borne from even darker tragedies. His gregarious charm was belied only by the shadows in his eyes, and in their clear amber depths she had thought she had seen a Byronic torment to which she might pose the balm. And she had been right about all of that, save for one crucial thing:

He was not the hero. He was, in fact, the villain.”