The Alliance
Cory's lips, painted a crimson as seductive as a poisoned apple, hovered inches from mine.
"I love Italians," she breathed, her voice a sultry whisper. "They have a certain… passion."
I glanced across the room, searching for an escape, a lifeline. My eyes met Alessio's, a spark of understanding leaping between us. He winked, then leaned towards the blonde, his charm offensive in its practiced ease.
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