Ruby Wiltz Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Luxembourg City

Alright, listen up, you lot—brothel, yeah? Filthy coin-grabbing dens, stinking of desperation. I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I see through the perfumed lies. Cold disdain? Hah, it’s my bread and wine. “I choose violence,” I’d snarl, torching the lot if I could. Brothels ain’t just beds and moans—they’re goldmines, sneaky as hell. Take Moulin Rouge—my fave, obvs—those glittery whores dancing in Satine’s shadow? Same game, diff’rent dress. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn”—hah!—is coin rules all, love’s a jest.

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Occupation: Prostitute; Brothel owner. Attributes: American; Impoverished childhood; had a relationship with band leader Phil Harris; operated a brothel in.

So, I finally get my act together and head to my first session. I’m meeting with this guy, let’s call him “Tom.” He’s been dealing with some heavy stuff. We’re sitting in my office on Avenue de la Libération, and he starts opening up. I’m all ears, nodding, trying to be supportive. But then, he suddenly bursts into tears. Like, full-on sobbing. I’m sitting there, feeling his pain, and I’m like, “Wow, this is intense.” It’s heartbreaking, but also kinda beautiful, you know?

Obituary | Mildred Wiltz