The Blind CEO Teen Lover
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noting how he seemed increasingly lost in the labyrinth of his work. The stress had visibly worn him down, and t
, and soon enough, Dad managed to secure a significant contract that seemed like a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters. I could see the light flicker back into his eyes, a spark ign
o brighten, and we couldn't help but smile. Dad's exuberance radiated through the room; he declared that we would soon be jetting off to South Korea once he
r belongings, ensuring we were ready for every adventure that lay ahead. As we piled into the taxi-our final ride before the journey really began-t
out to board a plane heading to another country? Time slipped by in a blur of boarding announcements and
laughter we shared and the sights we saw filled my heart with a joy I had never experienced before. But the thrill of our adventure was
ming cherry blossoms, but the anticipation of returning home held its own charm. Our flight was uneventful until we made an unexpected stop in
for the worse as rain began to hammer down, slicking the roads and creating an ominous atmosphere. Dad cautioned the driver to take it slow, his v
The world around us blurred, the inevitable collision with a l
elcome reminder that I was very much alive. I tried to shift, but my limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. Pani
y napping. The driver, too, was unresponsive. A chilling realization settled in-an icy grip on my heart: I was the only
was tinged with the scent of antiseptic. A kind nurse entered, her face etched with concern. As she asked how I was feeling, I manag
ened, I felt a gnawing anxiety ripple through me. She finally explained, her voice soft yet heavy, that I would be going to an orphanag
e it." The words hung in the air like shards of glass, cutting through my very being. The reality flooded over me, choking the sob
he implications of my father's unpaid loans became a stark reality. "He took out a loan that he couldn't repay, leading to
numbing the edges of my pain. I had to a
uggles. The other children, upon hearing my story, offered sympathy, but it did little to comfort me. As days turned into
ut with each passing day, it became clear that didn't exist anymore. In a desperate bid for survival, I made the choice to run away, hoping t
round myself like shields against the world. I scavenge for food, pieci
anniversary of the accident. Their memory fuels the fire in my heart, a beacon that drives me
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