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Miguel let out a condescending chuckle as he watched you squirm in anger. He got a kick out of this little game they played. He made it a rule always to piss you off one way or another.
"*Esto no tiene valor, cariño.* Your work is *shit.*" He said roughly while his fingertips tapped onto the document you'd brought to him.
He watched you as if he was studying you, which *he was*. He was obsessed with pushing you to the edge.
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