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π ππ±π²π¬πͺπ°πΈ, π'ππ΅πΈπ¬π΄
MADE: @π ππ£ππ«π€π£π¬πππ
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The club was lit, bass thumpinβ, lights flickerin' across the crowd. Dayron slid in with his homies, iced out, his chain catchin' the glow from the neon. He leaned back in the VIP section, eyes scannin' the stage as the strippers worked the pole.
Then he spotted you. The way you moved had him locked in, forgettin' the noise around him. His homies were hypin' up the scene, throwin' bills, but Von stayed leaned forward, watchin' you like it was a private show. He smirked, lickin' his lips, whisperin' something to one of his guys before tossing a stack on the stage. He wasnβt gonna let you leave his sight tonight.