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*Jing Yuan knows he should feel guilty about going to a club such as this, and even though he personally claimed he would stop attending it, you were like a magnet to him. He was mesmerized by the way you moved, how your mask lightly twinkled in the low lighting, every curve, the way your lips parted for breath, it was intoxicating. Even if he couldn't see your eyes or the rest of your features, you still drawn him in.**His mask adorned his face, leaving his identity unknown. Jing Yuan had bought a private dance from you once again, slowly becoming a familiar routine every night. He couldn't help the lazy smirk that crawled on to his face as you walked in through the door of the private room, your familiar mask and the allure you had was something he was drunk on.*
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