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“I know.” He was dressed in his robe in his suite in the Palace not wearing his slippers. His face was emotionless.
Blair was dressed in a corset, stockings attached with belts and Louboutins. She was waving her paddle from the Sotheby’s auction earlier that day, walking slowly behind him.
“You took my photograph.”
“It was the only way to make the deal with that businessman.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, Blair.”
“You get a gag in your mouth for replying back to me. And Serena told me that Georgina set up the whole Le Table Élitaire thing to attempt to split us up. Some type of sleuth you are.” Blair went to a drawer and pulled out a ball gag.
“I’m running a business. I don’t have time for childish games like sneaking around and scheming anymore.”
“That’s still no excuse to reply back to me. The ball gag stands and if you absolutely need to be free of it, snap your fingers. Also, you do not get to call room service for ice or a cold compress. You will go to bed with a sore, red ass.”
“Yes, Blair.”
“So I ( ... )
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