All Chapters of THE CEO’S TOY: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The toy...My eyes widened as I stared at his beautiful face, partially lit by the disco lights. His eyes bored into mine, quickening my heart. For maybe three seconds—maybe more—we stood staring at each other as though it were a contest—the first to look away fails. The bright lights, and the loud music around me—all quickly disappeared into oblivion. And as usual, my weak heart disappointed me, and I averted my gaze.Damon gripped my hand, and my pulse rate hiked. Warmth, one I needed not to feel, traveled from my point of contact to my heart, offering delusional comfort. I struggled to release myself from his grip, but his grip tightened, and he pulled me closer, our bodies mere inches apart. I breathe in his cologne.His warmth.Damon yelled, “Follow me.” He turned around and pulled me, paving the way among the crowd with his tall, broad physique.Leading me into a private room. The silence relieved me from the raging sound from the previous spot. The neon light that decorate

The CEO . . My eyes were glued to my phone, barely paying attention to the man rambling on in what felt like a completely pointless meeting. All my messages were left unread, and I couldn’t fathom why she insisted on me calling her Aria. What was wrong with Binky? I scoffed, my brows knitting together. "Mr. Wesley," the data analyst called out, his chin held high and a tiny smile on his lips. "What do you think about the project?" he asked. I didn’t need to listen to him fully; from the start of his presentation, I could already tell it was trash. Yet, he seemed to think he had delivered something groundbreaking. "Trash," I called out. His eyes widened and his smile faltered. I leaned back, wrapping my fingers around each other. "I said it's trash. He blinked, looking taken aback. "May I know why sir?” He questioned, stuttering. I sighed, shaking my head. "Firstly, your data analysis is all over the place. You didn't even consider the most recent market trends. And your pro

The CEO..The air was always thick around the house, but it was much thicker today. Maybe it was because my father’s voice was sharper than usual. With a deep inhale, I opened the door and walked in. My footsteps echoed, merging with the pounding of my heart—how I hated this house.I nearly bumped into Lucy. Her eyes were filled with panic. My expression hardened; I already knew what was about to happen.In the living room, my father sat on a single couch, four hefty men standing behind him, each gripping a bat, an iron pipe, and a steel rod. I sighed, the sight all too familiar, and braced myself for yet another confrontation.My father cleared his throat, his voice laced with disappointment. "Why do you keep wavering between being a failure and a Wesley? Is this perhaps the consequence of weak blood flowing through your veins?”I stood there without a word.With a cold, disdainful gaze, he continued, "Lucy has told me everything. You even left the house. Damon, I thought you would

The CEO...My chest tightened as my heart pounded panic into my system. Desperately, I battled with the rope. I had to be set free; I had to protect her. Each futile attempt only led to rope digging deeper into my skin and blisters forming on my skin.“That’s not going to happen,” Tracy stated her voice firm. The clicks of her heels against the floor mingled with the tension. “He’s coming with me.”“How’re you going to do that?” He inquired. My father’s tone mocked her. “Last time you abandoned him.”Another tension brewed between them. Hatred, anger, and pain filled the air; no wonder it was always thick.Tracy inched closer and stared up at him, her gaze unwavering. “You see, Williams, everyone has changed; you are the only one still stuck playing god in your delusional world.” Her demeanor changed completely; it was cold. My father flinched at her words. His throat visibly tightened. “Tracy,” he yelled, but it sounded different—not the way he yelled my name when I disappointed h

Ariel (15 years old)..My legs were weak, trembling from pain. My throat was parched as I had screamed as loud as I could—searching for a savior. My stomach hurt—everywhere hurt.Aria tried to touch me, but I recoiled; instantly she pulled back. She sat silently, lost of words. The sadness in the air was palpable, perfectly blending with the musty smell inhabiting the basement.“Did he?” Aria’s voice began to wobble. “Did..he?” Her voice, although shaking, deepened.I tried to speak but couldn’t. Leonard had gone, but his painful touches lingered, making me want to claw my skin. His words still echoed in my head: “If you don’t shout and complain, it only goes by faster,” stabbing my mind. When all she got was tears, she had answers. “I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have begged you to stay.” Aria began to cry, guilt chipping at her voice. “If I didn’t ask you to stay, this would never happen." She attempted to touch me but froze midway. “This is all my fault. All because of a stupid diar