เรื่องสั้นแนว Feel-Good Story และนิยาย CEO Family Emotions

On the night of my tenth wedding anniversary with my billionaire husband, his female secretary called him. Ignoring the fact that I was completely naked, he pulled away and started to leave. I couldn't stop myself from confronting him. He sighed, yet his tone was inexplicably relaxed. "So you finally figured it out. Elowen is young and insecure. She's afraid I'll fall in love with your body again. "She's adorable. Now that I've tasted something young and vibrant, why would I ever settle for what’s withered and spent?" A chill spread through my body, and I stood there frozen. "Silas, that's not a funny joke." He didn't answer. He merely shot me a look of disgust. "She's underestimating herself. "You're nothing but an ambitionless wife, a parasite content to live off me. "I only married you because my family pressured me. Now that everything is going well, I haven't felt anything for you in a long time. "Good thing she called. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known how to end this." As I watched him leave without the slightest hesitation, my entire body trembled. When Silas's company was in crisis, no one wanted to marry a man who was about to take on millions in debt. I was the one who chose him without hesitation and used my own money to help him start over. Yet this was how he repaid me. My heart went cold. I picked up my phone and made a call. "Dad, I'll put the Sicily project in your hands in one week."

Three years ago, my father ran into a burning building and carried my wife Vanessa out. He came out of it with scorched lungs and one leg gone. Vanessa sat by his hospital bed and cried all night, swearing she would honor him like her own father for the rest of her life. Three years later a storm drowned the city. My father was trapped on the fourth floor, and every breath he coughed out came up with blood. I called Vanessa, who ran rescue dispatch, forty-two times. She didn't pick up once. Her only reply was, "Your father can hold on. Save the ones in worse danger first." But five minutes later, someone posted a video in the residents' group chat. Vanessa was piloting the only medical boat in the city herself, and she had gone to collect Julian Marsh, her childhood sweetheart, whose only injury was a twisted ankle, and he could still walk. To make room for his golden retriever, the emergency stretcher had been stripped out of the boat beforehand. And my father was the only critical patient on the list who needed a stretcher to be moved. Even before he lost consciousness, my father clutched my sleeve and spoke up for her. "Don't blame Nessa. Saving people comes first." The next day I carried my father out of the disaster zone on my back. Vanessa saw me and frowned. "Why didn't you just wait? Once I was done with Julian, I would have come back for your father." I didn't argue. I just handed her two documents. One was the divorce papers. The other was the critical condition notice the doctors had issued after my father missed the window when he could still have been saved.

The day Lillian was born, my husband, Darian Ford, lied to me. He was with Maya Bell while she gave birth, and he missed our daughter's first cry. He came back full of guilt, apologized, and did everything he could to look after our daughter and me. Maya's child happened to start preschool on the same day as Lillian. Darian missed Lillian's preschool orientation. I saw the disappointment on my daughter's face. All I could do was tell her quietly, "It's all right. You still have me." When she fell down the stairs, I called him in a panic. He swore he was on his way. We waited three hours at the hospital. Then we found him in a video that had gone viral. In the video, he was walking down the street with Maya's child in one arm and his other hand on Maya's back. An interviewer had stopped them because they looked like a picture-perfect family of three. When my daughter woke up crying for her father, I kissed her forehead and said, "Baby, from now on, it'll just be you and me. Is that all right?" He finally arrived, apologizing over and over. He promised to take us on a trip once she was better. But just as we were leaving, his phone rang. It was Maya's special ringtone. Maya's voice shook with sobs. "Darian, Sean has a high fever. I'm so scared. What do I do?" I didn't say anything. I waited to see what my daughter would do. Darian hung up, looking torn, and knelt in front of her. "Lillian, I have to go back to the city. Something urgent came up. Go ahead with your mom, and I'll join you later, all right?" I thought she would cry and cling to him the way she always had. Instead, she took a small step back and gave him an innocent but distant smile. "Mr. Ford, you don't have to come find us. Mom says not to talk to strangers."

I'd been married to Calvin Lennox for five years, but he'd never let go of his ex-wife, Ella Vance. When I passed out with a 104-degree fever, he kissed my forehead and said he had to work late at the office. Then he went straight to Ella's apartment. When our daughter, Lilith Lennox, asked him to stay and help her blow out her birthday candles, he apologized again and rushed off to Ella's son's birthday party. Then came the day Ella's son, Felix Vance, pushed my daughter down the stairs. My daughter lay in the emergency room, covered in blood. Calvin rushed in and went straight to Ella and her son, who didn't have a scratch on them. "Are you two all right?" he asked anxiously. When I told him through tears what had actually happened, the man who'd once sworn he loved only me looked at me with disgust for the first time. "Adela, your lies make me sick. Ella is so gentle, and Felix is autistic. How could they possibly hurt you or Lilith?" In that moment, as I looked at the cut on my daughter's forehead, the last of my love for him died.

My boyfriend, Miles, finally invited me to his family’s Christmas dinner. I passed out on the way there. Half-conscious, I heard him whisper, “Sorry, Eva. Those thugs said you’re just their boss’s type. Too pretty for your own good, babe. Blame that—not me.” “Don’t be scared. If you help me pay off the debt… maybe they’ll let me have you back. I’ll make it up to you. For the rest of your life, I swear.” He wheeled me through the back of a casino. My family’s casino. The boss he was selling me to… was my brother. Ever since our parents died in a crossfire, my brother had taken full responsibility for me. More than a brother, he’d become a father figure—a protector. My stupid boyfriend should be scared—he had no idea how fiercely my brother protected me, or how ruthless he could be to anyone who dared hurt me.

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

When my husband, Lucius Croft, and I were on a flight that was heading toward our honeymoon destination, his childhood friend, Belinda Todd, suddenly appeared before us while pregnant. She claimed that she had bought an economy-class ticket and that she wanted to go on a vacation with us. Not only did Lucius not reject Belinda, but he also wanted me to give my first-class ticket away to her. I turned his suggestion down. So, he helped Belinda occupy the first-class seat next to us. When I realized that an old lady was the owner of that particular seat, I did everything I could to convince Lucius to return the seat to her. Unexpectedly, Belinda was so mad that she got off the plane right away. On her way home, she got into an accident, which killed her and her unborn baby. Lucius attended her funeral calmly. But on the day I was supposed to go into labor, he tied me up in the car and staged a car accident on purpose. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you, Belinda never would've died! You deserve to make it up to her with your life!" I could only watch the car drive into the tree in total despair. All I saw was a huge explosion and tongues of flame around me before I completely lost consciousness. When I open my eyes again, I see Belinda standing before me with her belly jutting out. This time, I no longer stop them. What they don't know is that the inconspicuous-looking old lady is actually a member of the esteemed Howard family, also known as the global business powerhouse. She's also the grandmother of the richest man in the world, Ethan Howard.

The day before Henry Baker and I are supposed to marry, my mother sedates me. She makes my twin sister marry Henry instead. A few years later, the company Henry established turns into a thriving empire. My sister, Diana Halliwell, flourishes with him. While I was at the lowest point in my life, my childhood friend, Jorge Ward, proposed. It's only after marriage that I realize he's worthless. Diana and Henry attend various parties. They enjoy delicious food and wear expensive clothes. Meanwhile, I end up exhausted after having to cook and clean for my family. One night, Mom speaks softly to Jorge when she thinks I've fallen asleep. "I was worried she would find out the truth about what happened back then, but it seems she's too dumb to notice anything." Jorge laughs. "You're a genius, Erica. You laced Laura's water with sleeping pills so Diana could marry Henry on her behalf. I'm glad to see how happy Diana is now." Mom sighs. "I just feel bad for you. You've always liked Diana, yet you're forced to live with a wash-out like Laura…"

As the son of Harbor City's casino magnate, I willingly handed control of the World Cup book to my stepsister, Sophie Bell. It was only because, in my last life, Sophie, who had never watched soccer seriously, suddenly turned into the family's lucky charm and called sixteen World Cup matches in a row. Every single night I stayed up breaking down each team's tactics and studying the players' habits and tricks. Yet Sophie could always predict the exact score, a step ahead, saying out loud the very answer in my mind. "Admit it, Adrian. I'm just stronger than you! Everyone, listen to me and go all in!" After that, the whole internet worshiped her as a goddess and praised her as a natural-born betting queen. Everyone mocked me as nothing but a fraud who'd never deserved his name. I was driven out of the family, and in a daze, someone shoved me off a high-rise. Only in that moment did I finally learn the truth: my stepsister could eavesdrop on my thoughts in real time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night the World Cup began. This time, I didn't watch the matches. Instead, I looped through my head: "Darling, hold my hands. Nothing beats a jet 2 holiday, right now you can..."

When I defeated Natalie for the tenth time and claimed the Supermodel Champion title, her childhood sweetheart, Jared Johnson, proposed to me. With his devastatingly handsome face, he walked on stage and kneeled on one knee with a ring in hand. “Will you marry me?” I smiled and said yes. That very night, he became mine. Throughout seven years of marriage, I stepped away from the runway. Instead, I gained three beautiful children. They inherited my supermodel figure and their father’s stunning looks. Together, the four of us turned heads wherever we went. On my birthday, Jared handed me the registration form for the “Supermodel Showdown”. I knew he wanted me to live in Natalie’s shadow and be nothing more than her backdrop. However, I signed my name without hesitation. I already had the best of his genes, after all. Now, it was time to take back the crown that belonged to me.

For Children's Day, I help source and purchase gifts for my son's class. I not only keep the budget to a minimum, but I also manage to get expensive toys that are way over budget for them. During checkout, because my son, Harry Chandler, has grabbed a limited edition toy robot, the PTA representative, Darren Larson, shouts at me, "Jordan Chandler, are you trying to tell me that you didn't embezzle the class funds for that 500-dollar toy robot?" The class teacher, Kevin Brown, and the manager of the toy store, Florence Young, immediately pause in their footsteps. I feel dozens of pairs of eyes staring at me in the mall. Darren complains animatedly, "You were trying to pay for that 500-dollar toy with the class funds, basically using everyone's money to spoil your son, weren't you? "Both Mr. Brown and the manager are right here, but you still dare to pocket our money? I can't imagine how much of the class funds you must've used to line your own pockets behind our backs! I daresay, for someone with no morals like you, the children you raise will be thieves in the future too!" Darren glares maliciously at me, looking me up and down. Even Kevin is giving me a look of suspicion and disdain. Instead of arguing with him, I turn to the cashier and ask in a calm tone, "My family owns this mall. Do I need to pay for a toy I just grabbed off the shelf?"

A stampede happened at my daughter's kindergarten. Timothy Horuson was in a hurry to save his first love's son, and he pulled away someone else's hand. A hand reached out to him, hoping for him to save her. His daughter's hand. And the light in my daughter's eyes faded. The longing for fatherly love she had held on to for so long vanished. I risked my life to save her. She looked at me quietly. "I'll go with you, Mom. We'll leave Dad behind and go somewhere he'll never find us."

When I was eight months pregnant, I received an anonymous email. The attachment was a security camera recording. In a dimly lit VIP booth at a bar, my husband — a vampire who had lived for three hundred years — was holding a human woman in his arms, kissing her. At the end of the video, the woman smiled and asked him, "Adrian, do you really love me?" Adrian's voice was low. "Of course." "Even though you're human, I'll make you the happiest vampire bride in the world." He had said those exact words to me ten years ago. In that moment, my hand rested on my belly. The baby kicked once. As if reminding me. It was time to wake up.

Everyone warned me never to fall for Dante Moretti. They said he was the ghost of the Velasco family—an underboss who ordered hits without blinking, his heart colder than the barrel of his gun. But when he bent me over that mahogany desk, his mouth against my ear commanding me to say his name, I was stupid enough to think that was possession. It took me an entire year to see the truth. The photographs locked in his study drawer were never of me. The woman in white waiting for him in the cathedral district on Sunday mornings was never me. The girl who took a bullet for him, the one he called his "salvation"—her name is Elena Abate. And Elena happens to be my stepmother's daughter. My father is trying to sell me to a half-dead Agosti heir for five hundred million to save the family. My stepmother is scheming to erase me from existence entirely. And the man I thought would burn this city to the ground for me? On the day I needed him most, he was lifting Elena up a flight of stairs, cradling her like something sacred. They all thought I was just a pawn to be moved around their chessboard. They were wrong. If Dante can't let go of his precious white moonlight, his "salvation," then I'll become someone else's "widow." If Elena believes she's already won this game, I'll let her watch from the front row as a woman with nothing left to lose burns it all down. My name is Serafina. Remember it. Because I am about to become the reckoning none of them saw coming.