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The man smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m looking for someone. She used to go by Lana Rhoades. Pretty, vulnerable, made men do very stupid things.”
He knew.
The bass dropped. The neon hummed. And Lana realized her past had just walked in the door, wearing an oyster-gray suit and holding all the answers she’d tried to bury. lana part 1 lana rhoades