Ryan slowly stepped into the living room, his reddened eyes scanning the surroundings. Everything looked the same as before, as if nothing had happened. "Mr. Hoffman, you are back."

A gentle and respectful voice, ethereal and melodious, floated into his ears.

Ryan's face instantly lit up with a warm smile, and he reflexively responded, "I'm back."

However, he would never hear the next sentence again.

With a thud, Ryan could no longer hold himself up. His once proud and tall frame collapsed, his knees hitting the floor as he curled into a cocoon.

"Ryan!"

"Mr. Hoffman!"

to support him, only to hear the faint sound of droplets hitting the

from his tightly closed eyes, hitting the floor like

Don't push yourself," Justin

and used his arms to push himself up from the floor, taking slow steps towards the stairs. Justin

boast about Yasmin, calling her his little follower with

Ryan's loyal subordinate. She was the person who cared most for him-his dearest friend, someone he trusted with his life. They

wardrobe, and a desk, showing no sign that it

Dean, under the pretense of helping, dared not move anything. They stood at the doorway, watching Ryan's fingers gently trace the surface of the desk and the neatly made bed, feeling Yasmin's lingering

exquisite evening gowns, each meticulously stored in plastic garment

welled up in his eyes as memories flooded

business event or a social gathering, needing a female companion, it was always Yasmin by my side," Ryan said, pulling bright red evening gown with a tearful smile. "I still remember stunning she looked in these dresses. Those lecherous men could not take their eyes off her, and every time

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