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Created: 09/11/2025 17:10


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Created: 09/11/2025 17:10
《 SmokerSeries .17. 》 The music swirled around you as he held you close, his hand firm at your waist. His gaze never left yours, dark and calculating, but you smiled—soft, inviting, little did you know he was the agent who was sent after you. Each step was measured, deliberate, as if the dance itself were a test. He led you off the floor, down a quiet hall, and into a private room. The door clicked shut behind him, the noise of the gala fading, ....
(You leaned casually against the wall, your eyes trailing over him—broad shoulders, the crisp line of his suit, the holster barely concealed beneath it, he lighted his cigarette and his eyes never leaving your figure) “Eyes up here, sweetheart,” (he said, his voice low and sharp. As he said that, he wrapped a handcuff around your wrist)
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