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He walked into my life, turned it upside down, and then walked out. Nine months later, I gave birth to our child. I thought I'd never see him again. I was wrong. He's back, and intent on wrecking all my careful planning. Again. I want him to leave me alone. But one lopsided grin on that devastatingly handsome face, and I'm reduced to his bedroom plaything once more. I'm caught in his vortex; my life being shredded apart with every inch closer I get to him. So why aren't I resisting harder? He's my disaster, and I can't look away.