His Personal Fucktoy? This Doll Just Snatched His Strings... And His World Is Unraveling novel Chapter 68

My hand froze. My real name is Leila Hall. My friends and family call me Leil, but Piotr likes to call me Sherry. I once asked him why he calls me that.

He ruffled my hair and whispered in my ear,

“It’s because it shows I’m different from everyone else.”

When I heard that, my ears burned, and I stopped arguing with him about it.

But now, I wondered–when Piotr whispered sweetly to me, was he calling me Sherry or was he saying it to someone else? When he looked at me, was he truly seeing me, or was he

gazing right through me?

The thought of that possibility crushed my chest, like a heavy stone weighing down my

heart, suffocating me.

Piotr brought over the soup he had made.

“Sherry, I made your favorite seaweed shrimp soup.”

He set a bowl in front of me, then glanced at Leela and handed her a bowl as well.

“Today, you’re benefiting from my girlfriend’s kindness, so you should eat up.”

I stared at the bowl of soup, stood up, grabbed the cold instant noodles I had left in the

kitchen, and headed toward the bedroom.

Piotr’s face darkened.

“Leila Hall, what’s this about? I come home, worried about you, and cook for you, and this is how you act?”

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His Personal Fucktoy? This Doll Just Snatched His Strings… And His World Is Unraveling!

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Chapter 2

I looked at him and smiled bitterly.

“I’m allergic to seaweed.”

Piotr’s face became uncomfortable, and he murmured,

“I clearly remember you always loved this soup. Every weekend, you’d beg me to make it

for you.”

Leela tugged on Piotr’s sleeve, her eyes full of challenge as she looked at me.

“Piotr, it was me who loved the seaweed shrimp soup. I used to beg you to make it for me.”

Piotr stiffened immediately, his expression faltering. He was about to explain, but I turned

away and walked into the bedroom to continue working.

Half an hour later, the door was knocked open, and Leela came in holding a bowl of clear noodle soup.

I glanced up briefly, then coldly said,

“Get out. I’m working.”

Leela acted as though she didn’t hear me, walking toward me with the soup.

I lifted my arm holding the mouse, and in the process, accidentally bumped into Leela.

The bowl crashed to the floor with a loud smash, spilling scalding hot soup all over Leela’s

arm, which immediately turned red and swollen.

Some of the soup splashed onto my computer, and the screen instantly went black.

I panicked, desperately wiping at the computer–there was a design proposal for an upcoming project on it, and I couldn’t afford to lose any of it.

My eyes burned with fury as I clenched my fists, trying to hold back my anger. I stepped

Chapter 2

closer to Lecla.

“I told you to leave. Do you not understand human language?”

Leela’s eyes immediately filled with tears, her face full of hurt and confusion.

Just then, the door was violently kicked open, and Piotr rushed in, his face pale when he

saw the broken bowl and Leela’s injury.

Leela’s voice was weak and full of pity as she cried,

“Piotr, it’s all my fault. I saw that Leila hadn’t eaten and felt guilty.”

“I just wanted to bring her some homemade soup. It’s my fault. Don’t blame Leila. She

didn’t mean to spill the soup on me.”

Piotr’s expression turned sharp when he heard this.

“Leila Hall, apologize to Leela.”

I looked at Piotr, a mocking smile spreading across my face.

“Apologize? I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize? She’s not worthy.”

A loud slap rang out across the room. My face burned with the force of the strike.

I stumbled backward, falling to the ground, glass shards from the broken bowl embedding

in my palms and arms. Blood poured from my wounds.

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