Evelyn Scanzo Rosciate Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Turin

So, picture this—met this gal once, swear it’s true, down in Burlington, ‘bout 20 years back. Called her Ruby, fiery red hair, sassy as hell. She’d laugh, say, “Bernie, I’m my own CEO!” Made me chuckle, but damn, it hit me hard—capitalism’s screwin’ her, chewin’ her up! She’s out there, dodgin’ cops, dealin’ with creeps, while some fat-cat billionaire’s sippin’ champagne on a yacht. “Billionaires should not exist!” I yelled in my head, fists clenched, voice cracklin’ like a busted radio.

Ragazze escort arrapate in Scanzo-Rosciate

Built as a military outpost in the 14th century on the orders of Francesco I Gonzaga, fifty years later this castle was converted into a noble residence.

After a while, I’m back at the workshop, but my heart’s still at that parade. I’m smiling like an idiot. Marco walks in, sees me grinning, and he’s like, “What’s with you?” I just shrug. “Life’s too short, man.”