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PREVIEW
... golden stripes across the hotel bed of the third penthouse, catching on the tangled white sheets and the faint bruises blooming on Genevieve’s inner thighs like dark purple petals someone had sucked into existence.
She woke slowly, body heavy with the kind of deep, throbbing ache that screamed every filthy detail of last night—the torn dress still crumpled on the bathroom floor like evidence, mascara tracks dried into faint black rivers she hadn’t bothered to scrub away. ...
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