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11 | When They See Nothing At All (1)

The pungent smell in the bar was nauseating.

What kind of place was this? It looked shabby, smelled horrible, and the few men gathered around the tables and seats across the counter looked nothing less than goons, ready to pounce on people left and right.

There were rats scurrying in the corners, and spiderwebs clung to the walls. All the wooden work looked old and creaky.

Not to forget the woman behind the counter; God, she looked like an old hag, a minute away from kidnapping kids and saving a burst of villainous laughter for the end.

“Don’t look so miserable,” Zayden chuckled, moving his hand around Dhara’s back and giving a firm squeeze to her waist.

She tensed. One, because even through a decent layer of fabric, his skin felt hot as hell. And two, because she ended up gasping so loud, a few heads turned their way, none of them looking happy or even remotely welcoming.

“What the hell is this place?” she whisper-yelled, shoving his hand away and tugging at the hem of her top, sudde
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