Central Courtyard of the Devonshire Townhouse
Ethan stood in the courtyard, gazing up at the third floor of the central building, now engulfed in flames.
Unseen by the guards, he had set fire to the camp lodgings. The fire blazed fiercely, sending thick gray smoke billowing into the sky.
That smoke was a signal—his and Cherry’s. It meant Ethan had carried out the arson as planned, and the camp was now in chaos.
…Disgusting bastards.
The slaves imprisoned in Devonshire weren’t being used for labor.
They were food.
Thank you for translating.
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