A Bride For The Disabled CEO
“Please stop, you're drunk,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I tried to push him off. His body was heavy against mine, his movements sluggish but persistent.
He barely heard me. “How old are you?” he murmured, his voice thick with alcohol.
“18,” I gasped, heart racing in a mix of fear and confusion.
“Then you're already an adult” he said with a low chuckle, as though that settled everything.
I should’ve stopped it. I should’ve left. But I didn't have the strength to argue, didn't have the will to stop him. He moved against me again, and that's when I felt something cold touch the most intimate part of me….
I woke up alone in a dimly lit room. He was still there, his back turned to me, but his face-his identity-was still hidden behind the mask. I glanced down at his left shoulder. A Phoenix tattoo. Bold. Intriguing.
But then, I didn't hesitate. I grabbed my things and ran, my heart racing as I left the room without another word. It was supposed to be just a night. One meant to be forgotten. And that's exactly what I intended to do. I didn't know his name. I didn't even know his face. It was a night meant to stay buried in the past. It was a night I promised myself I’d forget.
But that promise broke when pregnancy came knocking.
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