Claire Poiana Mare Brothel ❤️❤️

About Galati

But the pimps—gods, they’re scum! Leeches in velvet coats, preying on desperation. Saw one beat a girl—wanted to gut him meself, but I’m short, not stupid. Still, the girls? Some’re clever—smarter than half the lords I’ve met. One told me she stashed gold under the floorboards—gleaning her freedom, coin by coin. “I pick up what’s useful,” she said—straight outta Varda’s mouth!

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After that, I decide to take a break. I stroll down Strada Tineretului. It’s a nice street, full of trees and stuff. I see this cute café, Café Poiana. I’m like, “Yes, please!” I grab a coffee, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I’m sipping, feeling all the good vibes, when suddenly, it starts pouring. Like, outta nowhere! I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughing, like, “Really, weather? You had to do me like that?”

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