The CEO ..I sauntered into Mr. Brian’s office, the door closing with a soft thud behind me. The room was modest, with stacks of papers threatening to overflow from his desk and the faint scent of stale coffee lingering in the air. Without waiting for an invitation, I plopped into the chair opposite him, crossing my legs from ankle to knee in a casual yet commanding posture.Brian, who had been scribbling nervously on a document, looked up with a start. His face paled as he realized who had just walked in. “Good day, Mr. Wesley,” he stammered, his voice trembling slightly. He quickly rose from his chair, extending a clammy hand towards me. “What brings you to my office today?”I met his outstretched hand with a cold, disdainful glance, not bothering to mask my irritation. “I’m here for the 5%. Have you gotten it from Pearl?” My tone was sharp, each word laced with impatience. My eyes bore into his nasty, nonchalant look. I offered him I wasn’t here for pleasantries.Brian visibly
The CEO..Our gaze burnt with intensity. My chest tightened. My fingers dig into my skin that hid beneath my trousers, hoping to wake me up from the dream. I had to be careful. I shouldn’t panic, not before him. I leaned in and conjured confidence out of thin air. “You can’t disown me. You have worked hard to mold me into your image.” I forced a smile; I made my eyes gleam with resolve—anything to make him believe he hadn’t shaken me yet. “You don’t have any children. What about your legacy?”My father leaned in, his resolve unwavering. Was it real? Was he feigning it like me? That I couldn’t tell. “What’s the use of having a child that wouldn’t listen?” His amber eyes burned like a scorching sun. “You are a failed project. You are useless. You are as weak as your mother.” His voice deepened. “You have my exterior, but you took your mother’s heart.” His words cut deep. The way he talked casually after he killed her. My eyes fell on his hand, the ones that took my mother's life, a
The toy..Damon gently cupped my face, his touch warm but firm. "The headlines are going to be buzzing about my wedding happening soon," he began, his voice steady, yet I could sense an undercurrent in his voice. "But don't take it too seriously. I mean, I'm not getting married to anyone that isn't you. I'd rather join my mother in the grave than leave you.”His words hung in the air, heavy with a promise that both comforted and terrified me. The highlights of our relationship, the heartbreak we've weathered, and the fragile trust I'm trying so hard to place in him all flashed before my eyes. I wanted to believe him, how I wanted to, but the nagging doubts clawed at the edges of my mind.Damon leaned in closer, his eyes searching mine with a desperate sincerity. "Believe me, Binky," he pleaded."Alright," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. The severity that everything held up pressed down on my chest, but I forced a smile. “I’ll believe in you, Damon.”Damon gently reac
The Toy..Mr. Davis Jackson sat on the other sofa across from us. His eyes darted around like he was scanning for an escape.“Mr. Jackson, don’t do anything stupid.” There was a wide smile on his face. “I never knew you were capable of showing emotion with the way you were sitting on the chair while my father threw his tantrum.” He leaned back. “If I knew you were the one I was looking for, I would have decorated your face with your blood.”The tension and the unease were palpable. Sitting down, my eyes kept dancing between both of them. I had a lot of questions, but I had to wait for Damon to set the stage.“Why did you buy the bracelet under my name?” Damon questioned. “Why were you trying to frame me for her murder?”Mr. Jackson's eyes widened. “Your name?” Confusion was written on his face. “I never bought it in your name,” he responded. “But on the receipt, you wrote Mr.“ Damon froze mid-sentence; he faced me, fear settled in his eyes. "Damon, what happened?” My voice quiver
CHAPTER 141The CEO..I swerved lanes as my thoughts spiraled, one after the other, in an endless loop. The steering wheel felt almost unknown in my hands as I struggled to keep my mind from wandering too far. The evening breeze, cool against my face with the convertible top down, did little to soothe me. Instead, it seemed to mock my state of mind, reminding me that freedom was an illusion—one that I was no longer privileged to enjoy.The truth was, I didn’t believe I deserved to keep seeing Binky anymore. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but every time I looked at her, all I could see was my father. I saw his hands, bloodied with the weight of Aria’s misfortunes, staining everything. If he hadn’t had Aria killed, Binky would have never fallen into that coma. Their mother wouldn’t have developed the brain swelling that eventually took her life. Binky wouldn’t have to live as Aria.Forced to lift and live with the weight of a life that was never meant to be hers. My father was a mon
The CEO.. I guided her up the stairs, holding her hands, hoping I could transfer my strength to her.Each step seemed laborious to her as she leaned on me for support, but she shot a fragile smile, a failed attempt to reassure me. When we reached her room, I gently helped her into bed, carefully tucking the blankets around her.Seeing her so vulnerable made my heart melt. A subtle pain traversed through me. I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart heavy with different emotions."How long do you have left?" My voice trembled, my tongue struggling to form the words as if acknowledging it would make it more real. My mind couldn’t wrap itself around the fact that she was dying.My eyes met hers, and the pain in them fed the pain in me.Tracy's gaze softened, her voice somewhat similar to a whisper. "The doctor said maybe a month or two." Her words hung in the air—it was a death sentence, cold and final."Why didn’t you say something about it?" I asked, my voice cracking underneath the
Toy..I sat in the large, imposing courtroom. The air thickened with tension, but Nope still hung over, hoping Justice could be served. The murmurs of spectators seized as the proceedings began, leaving the shuffle of the papers. My eyes fixed on Damon’s father, who stood in the defendant box. Occasionally, he would stare at me and flash a smile that aggravated me. His words still rang in my ears, the way he casually told me how I looked softer than Aria outside the courtroom. I clenched my fist, hoping he would rot in jail for eternity. Mr. Jackson stood at the defendant's box. His eyes constantly darted between me and Mr. Wesley. My chest was tight like I was carrying the weight of the world on my chest. The flutters in my stomach were so grave that I might have developed stomach cancer. I sighed, hoping Damon’s threat should have walked in. Damon had messaged Mr. Jackson once he confessed to Mr. Wesley. He would protect him as Mr. Wesley would be powerless and be behind bars.
The CEO . .Lying on the bed, I felt the sheets beneath me, my eyes closed, yet my mind was restless, buzzing with haunting images I couldn’t escape. Binky's tears haunted me; her face burned into my thoughts. But it was my father’s smile that truly kept me awake—the coldness, the quiet satisfaction he always had when things went his way. My hand gripped the bedsheet, twisting it, hoping it could ease my pain— but nothing.I couldn’t shake the thought—if only I’d been better, if only I’d been stronger if only I could’ve been more than this... this puppet he so easily manipulated. But I wasn’t. I was nothing more than a piece on his board and moved around to suit his game. The bitterness of it tore me from the inside out, choking with helplessness. If only I could turn the tables and make him pay for all of it. I wasn’t that person—not powerful enough, not anything enough.Stumbling to the closet, I flung open a drawer, my heart racing as I reached for the revolver inside. The c