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... Zahir immediately gestured to Nancy Emmett.

Nancy Emmett listened, to her it seemed reasonable enough.

“Ahem.” Nancy Emmett shifted her gaze and lightly cleared her throat, “What do you do, miss?”

Jasmine Yale smirked. It seemed they had not recognized her.

Well, it had been fifteen years.

Everyone had changed.

“Me? I’m a mistress.”

Jasmine Yale took off her headphones, her ...

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