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Ceo For Hair

perfect ceo

As the doctor left, Sucy lay back in bed, feeling overwhelmed. Yoongi broke the silence, his voice low. "So, we're going to have our child." The silence that followed was deafening, and Yoongi asked, "Why are you not saying anything?" Sucy finally spoke, her voice shaking. "You don't want to be with me, or you don't want us to create a family?" Yoongi's face turned hard, and he asked again, "Wait, you don't want a child?" Sucy's response was immediate, her voice firm. "I don't want a child. All I want is to be with you for now. My mom would kill me; she wants me to get married and have kids, not sleep with my boss and get pregnant." She cried bitterly, her words pouring out in a rush. "I was sent on a blind date, but you turned me down, even though I didn't like you. I had to work for you to make you pay for what you did to me before, but then I ended up falling for you." Yoongi's face turned cold, his voice hard. "Wait, you don't like me? So, you used me? I didn't turn anyone down. You were the first girl I ever liked. So, you're going to abort the child?" Sucy's tears fell in a rush as she spoke, her voice shaking. "I liked you, but I had to abort whatever is in my belly right now." Yoongi's expression turned menacing, his voice low and threatening. "You know what? I hate you now. You're not killing my baby. I don't care what you do after you give birth to my child; you could do anything with your life. I will send the doctor to check on you every day, and some of my guards. If I ever find out you abort the child, I will kill you." As Yoongi walked out of the room, Sucy cried, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry." She rubbed her tummy, her tears falling in a rush. "I'm sorry for all this, baby. I am sorry for not allowing you see your father and your mother. I am sorry again for allowing you to hear your parent argue about you for knowing about you for the first time .i am sorry love"she weeps bitterly
minsucy · 11K Views

For Me, For Us, For Everyone

Cigarette smoke curls in the stagnant air, the dim glow of a dying bulb casting twisted shadows against the walls littered with half-torn articles and red-thread connections. Somewhere between the ink-stained papers and the scattered pills, a man sits—silent, unmoving, staring blankly at a stuffed monkey in a clown suit. A detective, they call him. A man of justice, a solver of mysteries. But behind the applause and empty praises, behind the sharp smiles and hollow congratulations, he is nothing but a walking contradiction—one hand holding a case file, the other exchanging cash for little plastic sachets. His mind is a labyrinth of voices, whispers that coil around his thoughts like suffocating vines. His brother grins at him from the corners of his vision, eyes glinting with the truth he refuses to face. His father’s voice is gentle, forgiving—too forgiving. Too much for a man who doesn’t deserve it. Each pill swallowed is another step into the illusion, another moment of stolen happiness before the weight of reality drags him under. He walks the city streets, drowning in faces that admire him, loathe him, see him as something he is not. He is both a hero and a villain, a detective and a criminal, a man trying to outrun the past while shackled to its corpse. And at the end of the night, when the echoes of the world fall away, all that remains is the darkness, the whispers, and the suffocating truth—he can never escape them.
Zeisn · 0 Views
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