Ivy Saint Cloud Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Nantes

So, I’m in Soho—grimy streets, neon buzzin’. This bird, right, she’s leanin’ on a lamppost, skirt hiked up. I’m thinkin’, “What’s her play?”—all theatrical, like Caden Cotard’s mad life. I saunter over, grin sharp as a blade. “Fancy a mischief?” I ask, all charm. She laughs—rough, smoky, real. “Tenner for a quickie,” she says. Tenner! I’m gobsmacked—thought it’d be pricier, ya know?

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Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. I’m like, “Great, just what I need.” Everyone starts panicking, and I’m trying to keep my cool. I’m yelling, “Stay calm! Follow me!” But they’re all running around like headless chickens. I’m dodging people, trying to get my client out safely.

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