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Chapter 159: Fiona Whitestrake
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She lounged on the third floor of the Cold Iron District’s largest brothel, dressed in simple lingerie that felt comfortably familiar against her skin. A faded black bralette hugged her chest without pinching, the cotton soft from too many washes.
The matching panties sat low on her hips, plain and unadorned, more practical than pretty. No lace, no frills—just well-worn fabric that clung to her like a second skin in a place built on pretense.
Years of rebellious posturing h ...
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