In the heart of Lahore, where the Mughal gardens whisper tales of empires and chai-sipping crowds clutter the bustling streets, Ayesha moved like a shadow—an invisible thread in the tapestry of a city that never sleeps. Her days began at the crack of dawn, not with the call to prayer from the Badshahi Mosque, but with the clatter of hurried footsteps over cobblestones, and the faint s... https://callgirlslahore.fun/