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Chapter 139 - Hundred and Thirty Nine
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Chapter 141 - Hundred And Forty One
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... a mask of drunken confusion and rage. He looked at the woman in front of him who held a black fan like a weapon of war. Behind her, a young dancer trembled, clutching her torn sleeve, her eyes wide with fear.
Marissa stood firm. She did not retreat. She snapped the fan shut with a sharp click against her palm.
"Keep your hands to yourself," Marissa spoke, her voice cutting through the humid air like a blade. "Dancers can’t be touched. They are artists, not merchandise."
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