All Chapters of THE CEO’S TOY: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The toy...Jessie took a leave from work, stating that she was unwell. I decided to visit her and properly package some broth for her. Then I went to her house.I walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. I waited for a while before Jessie came and opened up. Her pale face greeted me. "Why do you look like a lifeless pillow?" I teased.She forced a smile and leaned on the door. I raised the bag in my hand and said with a smile, "I made some broth.""Thank you," she said with a feeble voice as she collected the bag from me.We both went inside, the warmth of her home replacing the chill from the cool air outside. I sank into the couch in the living room, its cushions soft and welcoming, while Jessie slowly walked to the kitchen to put the broth away.She walked to the living room and joined me on the couch. "How are you feeling?" I asked her."Well, I'm not dead," she said with a faint chuckle.Her hand, seemingly unconsciously, kept twisting her hair. I could tell that something

The CEO..The news shook the media, with every headline announcing we had welcomed a new shareholder, attributing to me and Lucy’s marriage. Many assumed this meant our marriage was drawing nearer. I dropped my tablet on the desk and leaned back on my chair. Frustration welled up beneath every inch of my skin, leaving no space for comfort. This wasn’t the right time for Binky to see this—not like there was ever a right time.The door opened, my attention shifting to Zach, who casually strode in. He sank into the other swivel chair across my desk.“You’ve made it to headlines again,” Zach commented, the corner of his lips rising. “At least we have made progress. We have thirty-five percent now. All we need is the remaining twenty percent. Lucy would be mortified when you took control.” He added.I have had no interest in seizing people’s company. But I really had to punish Lucy and her mother for disgracing my Binky. And lately, I can’t help but wonder if something is suspicious. “

The toy ..I flung the diary halfway across my room, my chest heaving with pain and anger. I didn’t even know what to trust anymore. In my diary, my mother was the villain, and in her words, I deserved everything I get.I glared at the letter on my bed. I hadn’t opened it—I had no courage to open it. Probably about how she adored Ariel—how only Ariel suffered. And for me, as usual, nothing. I deserve nothing.Jessie entered the room with a tray of food in her hands. Her eyes fell on the book before shifting to me, reflecting concern. “I made breakfast for you to eat.” She dropped on the bed next to me.Although my stomach yearned for food, my mouth protested. I stared at the food blankly; it looked good, but I still had no appetite. “I’m not hungry,” I rubbed my heavy sleep-deprived eyes. Anytime I closed them, my mother’s words and the things in the diary haunted my mind.Jessie sat beside me. “I know you are mourning, but you need strength to mourn.” Concern is thinning her voice

The CEO..I slipped into the car, my body trembling. I had ruined it all. The pain I saw in her eyes still terrorized me. I wanted to slam the dashboard, but I couldn’t. I wanted to go back, hold her, and call her name, but I couldn’t.My phone buzzed, and I saw her message: “I’m going; you won’t have to be reminded of Ariel.”My heart raced, and my pulse quickened. Images of her holding a knife to her wrist flooded my mind. I had seen something like that.I bolted out of the car, fear pushing me towards the house. I keyed in the password, and the door was unlocked. “Binky!” I yelled, my eyes frantically darting around the apartment as I searched for her.I headed to the kitchen. The sight of pills scattered across the slab and the opening of the bottle of alcohol made my heart race—each beat pounding panic into my bloodstream.Haunting thoughts gnawed at my mind as I made my way to her room. Each step—urgent and desperate.My eyes fell on the bed—she wasn’t there—then at the bat

The toy...It's been two days since I left the hospital. The house, once a haven of warmth and laughter, now felt cloaked in sadness. Each room seemed to echo with an oppressive silence, amplifying the void left by recent events. The kitchen, usually a bustling heart of activity, stood eerily still, devoid of the comforting aromas of home-cooked meals.In the living room, the sunlight that filtered through the windows felt weak and distant, unable to penetrate the heavy gloom that had settled. The photographs on the mantel, once vibrant reminders of joy, now seemed like relics from a different life, their smiles frozen in time. Every step I took felt heavy as if the house itself was drowning in sorrows alongside me. Jessie was out of town and had recommended I stay at her house, hoping a change of scenery might provide some relief. I sank myself into my bed, knowing the futility of it all. It wasn’t the house that was cursed; it was me. The sadness emanated from within, an unshaka