Sample V-03: The Silent Puppet Master
The rain in this city doesn't wash anything away; it just turns the grime into a mirror. I sat in the leather armchair of the penthouse, draped in a cashmere throw that felt like a shroud. To Julian, I was a tragedy in a wheelchair—a broken bird he had rescued from the wreckage of a midnight collision. He loved the way I looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. He loved the way he could provide...
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