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Chapter 22: The Woman Lust Can’t Touch
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Chapter 24: The Other Charles
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... in his throat as the figure stepped from the shadows. Her movements were fluid, like she wasn’t quite human—more machine than woman, and yet there was something familiar in the curves of her body, the tilt of her head, the calm expression edged with hunger.
She looked like a dream sculpted by obsession—pale skin like porcelain, lips blood red, and glowing cyan eyes that shimmered like data streams.
"Charles Manson," she said again. Her voice echoed with layered distortion, both m ...
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