MeowChan0

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Anthony Robinson, a humble and hard-working cook, finds himself entangled in the clutches of a notorious mafia family. His ex-girlfriend, with whom he lives, not only cheats on him but also abandons him to deal with her children. She doesn't even bother to hide her indiscretions while they share a home, spending her days with the mafia boss Alexander's enforcer.
To make matters worse, Anthony's true love has broken up with him because he couldn't meet her expectations and failed to improve their relationship. He even squandered his second chance at life, neglecting their son Nick and letting go of the happy family they once had. Now, his mental health is deteriorating, and his passive nature and laziness prevent him from finding any happiness or seizing the opportunities that lie ahead.
One fateful day, Anthony wakes up to the harsh reality of being a disposable pawn. He finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun held by someone he once trusted-a person who epitomizes betrayal. Will he survive this dangerous predicament and reclaim his life?

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(The Last Of Us)

A violent shiver wracked Anthony's body, a wave of icy cold washing over him. Each breath was a ragged gasp, pain from his broken nose throbbing with every heartbeat. He pressed his palms against the kitchen curtains, the rough texture of the aged fabric contrasting sharply with his clammy skin. The air hung heavy with dust, mingled with the acrid, metallic tang of his blood and the sickly sweet odor of decay rising from his unwashed feet. Standing felt like balancing on thin ice, his legs unsteady, threatening to give way beneath him.

Every strained grunt escaping his lips testified to the effort it took to remain upright. *Stay strong,* he urged himself, trying to draw deep, steadying breaths, but cold sweat trickled down his back, betraying his crumbling resolve. The metallic taste of fear lingered at the back of his throat.

Beside him, Alexander loomed, a cruel smile curling his lips. He nudged Anthony aside with the cold barrel of the gun, the metal pressing against his spine, sending an involuntary shiver down his back. "I've got a present for you," he said, mockery dripping from his words, each syllable a venomous barb.

Anthony's heart hammered as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, each heavy thud echoing ominously in the tense silence. He gasped, fear constricting his throat. From the shadows, figures emerged, clad in dark suits and mirrored sunglasses, their features obscured. They formed a silent, intimidating line around him, hands poised at their sides, ready to spring into action. He caught the faint, leathery scent of their holsters and the metallic tang of oiled steel hanging heavy in the air.

"That doesn't look like a gift," Anthony managed, forcing bravado into his trembling voice. *What are they planning?*

"Not *that*," Alexander shot back, sarcasm lacing his tone. He gestured toward the kitchen, sweeping aside the blue curtain with a flourish. "In the *kitchen*."

Anthony's heart sank as he glimpsed what lay beyond the curtain—a chilling tableau, a horrifying premonition of chaos. *This can't be happening,* dread pooled in his stomach like a heavy weight. He hesitated, frozen in place, but the unrelenting pressure of the gun against his back propelled him forward.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped through the curtain. His body tensed, and his mind reeled as the full, horrific reality of his situation crashed down upon him.

Gift Of Bitterness