Amira gazed out at the city lights from Luminé Etoilée. Every day, she donned the mask of the perfect daughter, attending elite events and building networks for her father's empire. Amira sought escape from the meticulous security that shadowed her every move. She slips away from a lavish dinner party using the bathroom as an excuse. After walking down the street for a few minutes, found herself in a dimly lit local bar. “Finally, I can breathe,” she mumbles.
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