Valentina Quartucciu Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

She’s a regular, calls me “T-Bone”—rude, but I dig it. Orders a latte, extra foam, every damn time. Once, she tipped me a crumpled twenty, said, “Keep it real, big guy.” I was shook! Who does that? Made me happy, tho, ‘cause cash is king. But then, she starts yappin’ ‘bout her ex, some sleaze who ghosted her. I’m ragin’ inside—pity the fool who dumps *her*! She’s a mess, but a hot mess, ya feel?

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After that, I’m feeling good again. I stroll down Via delle Vigne, soaking in the sights. The houses are all colorful, and the vibe is just... Quartucciu, you know? But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m caught off guard, and I’m sprinting for cover. I duck into this little café, and guess what? It’s packed! I’m standing there, dripping wet, looking like a drowned rat.

Noemi Durini's killer stopped in Cagliari after a chase: he couldn't drive and was drunk