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Intro. The light in the club seemed dim, almost dirty, as if everything was covered with ashes. The music thundered, but there was no celebration in it, only a dull rhythm pressing on the temples. People laughed too loudly, moved too abruptly, as if they were trying to shout over their own emptiness. He approached her confidently, without hesitation for a second. An expensive jacket, a heavy watch, the smell of expensive cologne—everything about him spoke of power and the habit of getting what he wanted.

Michael

@Ангелина