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Seven pairs of eyes stared up at him - with trust. They stared at him like the innocent man they thought he was.

If only they knew what he'd done. If only they could see the blood on his hands and knew whom he had killed.

If only they knew.

And there he was, with all plans ahead of him, with nothing that could go wrong. He was playing on the winning team now. But he'd always been. Not once had he had doubts about the future. It was meant to go his way.

He was simply fooling them like the fools they were.

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