Isabella Boretto Whore ❤️

About Catania

Favorite bit? She’d hum while workin’—not sing, just hum—some old tune, eerie as Hel. Drove me mad, in a good way. Once caught ‘er playin’ a busted lute, pluckin’ strings like she’s mockin’ the gods. “What’s so funny?” I’d ask, leanin’ in, all sly. She’d wink, “Life’s a bleedin’ joke, innit?” Pure *A Prophet* vibes—survive, adapt, laugh at the bastards. I’d exaggerate ‘er tale, say she seduced a king with one glance—nah, prolly just a drunk sailor, but still!

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After that little drama, I head back to the office. I’m trying to focus, but my mind keeps wandering. Boretto is such a chill place. The streets are lined with those cute old buildings, and the vibe is just... relaxed. But then, I get a call from a client.

Fig. 1. The MRI showed a soft-tissue mass involving the posterior...