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... her plates down. Then another appeared, gliding in with a bottle of wine. She poured it with the kind of ceremony reserved for royalty—crystal glass tilted just so, label turned to face Anotta, not a drop wasted.
When they finished, both bowed deeply before walking off. Damn. She had real pull in this city. And I wished she wasn’t such a sadist, the kind who got her kicks watching me crawl out of every mess life threw at me.
"So you won’t help?" I asked, stirring what was left o ...
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