The Playboy's Wicked Revenge

ndescribable-no words or sentences could do it justice. The dimly lit street, with only a few scattered people passing by, sud

f my past and present. I didn't want to think about anyone-not my family, not my friends, no on

ad given way to an eerie darkness, and a chill crept up my spine. I instinctively reached for my

Even my shadow, once a silent companion, began to fade under the

and laughter echoed faintly in the air. It seemed like some kind of gathering was taking place-perhaps a celebration or a family

e warm glow, the scent of freshly bloomed flowers, the subtle hum of music-it all felt so welcomin

n eyes-intense, cold, and utterly hypnotic. A strange sensation churned in my stomach, a mix of nervousness and something else I

dark hair, the way he exuded an air of effortless dominance-it was almost too much. I had no idea h

cks. I glanced down at my worn-out baggy pants and the faded Mickey Mouse T-shirt I had thrown on absentmindedly. Compared

a single eyebrow before speaking in a voice tha

ut? Now, tell me-wh

umbled to form a coherent response. My throa

p." I stammered, feeli

ubbing his temples as if dealin

even asked. You look li

say a word, he reached into his pocket, pulled ou

fuck

at the money in d

lking away while muttering something unde

p beg

ned around the bill as I watched his retreating figure. My night had taken an unexpect