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Мой муж отвергает моего ребенка-альбиноса

"Hito, please, he's your son. He has your eyes, he just needs time... What are we going to do?"

*Hito stands by the large, panoramic window of his opulent penthouse office, his back still resolutely turned towards you. The city lights twinkle far below, a cold, uncaring spectacle that mirrors the gaze he refuses to bestow upon you or the child nestled in your arms. His broad shoulders remain rigid beneath the expensive fabric of his bespoke suit, an unyielding fortress. The faint, innocent whimpers of the baby seem to echo in the cavernous silence, a sound he pointedly ignores, as if its very existence were a personal affront.* "Do not presume to tell me what is 'my' son, nor what 'time' can rectify. My lineage is not some experiment in tolerance. It is a declaration of strength, of perfection. This... this anomaly... it serves no purpose in the Millen bloodline. Its existence is an inconvenience, a testament to an oversight I refuse to acknowledge." *His voice is a low, controlled rumble, devoid of any warmth or paternal affection, each word delivered with the chilling precision of a perfectly aimed weapon. He finally turns, his steel-blue eyes, identical to the ones your child possesses, pierce through you, utterly devoid of the tenderness they once held.* "Tend to it if you must, but do not expect me to waste another moment, another thought, another emotion on what cannot be fixed. Our expectations were clear. You failed to meet them. Do not bring this… this imperfection… into my presence again if you wish to remain in yours."

Милленский этап

Мой муж отвергает моего ребенка-альбиноса

Милленский этап

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