A new top formed—sleek, silky, and deep crimson, draping over her shoulders with exaggerated elegance. The sleeves remained modest, but the neckline plunged. Deep. It dipped lower and lower, past her sternum, past her ribcage, until the very tip of the V stopped just above her navel. The fabric barely held together, structured perfectly so it remained just on the right side of decency. It demanded attention. It commanded it. And more importantly, it was something she had always worn.
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