Becky Drink の小説・ストーリー

A wild night of reckless and careless thinking, what could possibly go wrong? -----☆----- 19-year-old Jake Miller isn't your typical everyday guy, he doesn't drink, smoke, party nor does he like girls. In fact, he's an antisocial butterfly whose wings were clipped at childhood. But what happens when his new roommate asks him to accompany him to a party? An accidental kiss with a stranger was definitely NOT on his list. The kiss rocks Jake's world and he's left questioning everything he ever thought he knew about himself and his interests. 24-year-old Liam Morgan, smart, handsome and always prepared and the next CEO of a renowned empire. He thought he had his life all planned out: he'd have the perfect wife, perfect home with his dream job as CEO and most importantly, never be like his father. But then everything took a turn for the worst and he's left to re-evaluate his life. He doesn't know what to do anymore and in a moment of self pity, decides to have a wild night out. While in his drunken state, Liam accidentally kisses a total stranger not knowing the domino effect it would create. Their encounter leaves Liam questioning himself and his values. Fear and obsession soon find themselves following hard after Liam. His first chance encounter turned him into someone he vowed never to be like. With secrets cutting deep, can Liam be the guy that Jake deserves or will their chance encounter remain only but a burning memory in Liam's mind, to look but never touch? To have but never truly be yours?

I saved the life of Don Stefano Marino of the Marino family. The moment a bullet was about to strike him, I was the one who shielded him from it. Because of the life debt he owed me, Stefano decided that I would be the one marrying him instead of my older sister, Anna Costa, in the marriage alliance. But on our wedding night, Stefano would rather drink himself into a stupor somewhere in the city than consummate our marriage with me. Like a naive fool, I thought that I'd be able to melt his heart of ice someday with my love. But it had been less than five years when Stefano brought a kid, who resembled him, and Anna back. "Anna has suffered tremendously during her time overseas while trying to raise her child on her own. I need to make it up to her." Then, Stefano passed the divorce agreement to me. "You've hogged the position as the Donna for so many years. It's time for you to give it back to her." Only then did I find out that Stefano had actually spent the night with Anna on the night of our wedding. I pulled out the pregnancy report that I had meant to surprise Stefano with, only for him to rip it into shreds. "I don't need another child." Once those icy words fell, I was sent into the operating theater by force, where I suffered from heavy bleeding afterward, resulting in the deaths of me and my unborn baby. When I woke up again, I saw Stefano, who was about to get shot. This time, I shoved Anna in his direction.

I'm married to Marcello Marchetti, the Don of the Marchetti family in Newstone. He has an adopted younger sister, Letizia Marchetti, who's supposedly a genius hacker. While she's not related to him by blood, he has raised her since she was a child. One spends all her time wreaking havoc, while the other dutifully cleans up all of her messes for her. Everyone in Newstone knows just how much Marcello dotes on that sister of his. Then, she hacks into my car remotely and messes with the brakes. The car crashes into the road divider at a speed of 120 miles an hour. It flips over three times, and I get caught under the wrecked metal, bleeding profusely. By the time the ambulance arrives, I've gone into shock three times. The blinding lights in the emergency room look like they're mocking me. Marcello stands beside the nurse, signing the consent form as he sighs. "Don't be mad at Letizia. She just thought there was something wrong with the braking system for that car, so she decided to run some tests. She had no idea you'd be using it today." Just then, his phone rings. He takes the call, and after just three seconds, his expression changes. "What did you say, Letizia? Someone spiked your drink at the bar?" He throws the pen down and heads toward the door at once, leaving in such a hurry that he doesn't realize he has selected the wrong blood type on the transfusion consent form. When I see the bag of blood the nurse brings me, my lips twitch. I suddenly lose all desire to stay alive. "Go ahead with the transfusion."

I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth. I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings. In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured. Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt." I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do." It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn. I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread. In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.

"Now, Gary. I understand that you're twenty-four. But I need you to train in restraining your sexual desire, you're not a horny teenager. So, we will not be leaving this restaurant for another half an hour. Then you're going to go to my place where I will exhaust you until you climax over and over again." She told me as she drinks her coffee slowly and started rubbing my upper thigh again. "Drink your coffee baby, you will need your strength." I smiled at her as she smiled back knowingly. "Say thank you, mistress." She whispered in my ear, making me groan, as I instantly get hard again. ***** When Gary worked for Adriana it was for the experience, and for the amount of money that they offer for an easy administration job. He was a boxer by night, it was his hobby, his real passion in life. Then the time came when he needed more money because of his brother, who was doing bets on the side for his boxing match. Until he finally came to Adriana and took on her offer to be a sugar baby. ***** Megan is a very well-known businesswoman. She was raised the hard way, where she didn't have the luxury of money. Now that she's a billionaire in the making, she doesn't have the time to date. But she likes to play, and she was bored being hassled by men for her money until she found Adriana. Until one fateful day when Gary showed up instead of her usual companion. From him, she learned the true meaning of living. Will, she finally settled down with him? Will he ever be comfortable around her wealth? Let's dive in and find out, shall we? ******** *Warning! R-Rated for 18+ due to strong, explicit language and sexual content*

Gosh! Those eyes! They were screaming cute! His masculine beauty was out of this world and he is the kind of man I’d love. The only problem I saw in him was the big tattoo on his arm that extended to his wrists. Being a typical church girl, I couldn’t end up with such a man unless I wanted to be disowned by my father. “I’d have a glass of martini, extra dirty and tacos.” He said in a dreamy gusty voice. “Coming right up” I said taking the menu list and flashed a timid smile at him. I felt my cheeks burning and if there was a mirror around here, I’d have checked how embarrassing I must be looking. My face must have definitely turned pink. I watched him as he ate gracefully without looking elsewhere, his eyes were fixed on his phone. His short brown hair was to die for, I instantly wished I could run my fingers through them. Too bad, I might not be the kind of woman he wants; it wouldn't hurt to have sinful fantasies. He suddenly looked towards me, maybe he must have noticed I had my eyes on him all along. Immediately he locked eyes with mine, I looked elsewhere pretending to looking for something that wasn’t missing. I could tell he gave a faint smile but kept sipping his drink slowly, as he was gazing at his phone. He gave a signal to come and get his bill and I walked gracefully to him. God! I wish he could just take me to bed. Oops! I’m a church girl and shouldn’t be thinking of things like that. “You should take a picture of me, it will last longer.” He said in a baritone voice.

My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."

There's an unspoken rule in my household—everyone has to engage in a drinking competition during the holidays. Whoever gets wasted first will have to pay off one year's worth of house and car mortgages for the other two siblings. In the first year, I collapsed after my first glass of alcohol. I had to pay the house mortgage for my oldest sister, Dahlia Zeller. In the second year, as soon as I picked up my glass, I fainted right away. Since then, I had to pay off Jasmine Zeller, my second sister's car loan. For the next 20 years, I've always been the loser. In the end, my wife, Jean McCarthy, is forced to jump off a building because of the huge debt I've racked up. The debtors keep dumping paint onto my residence, forcing me to deter away from it. Ransacked by guilt, I end up damaging my stomach from overdrinking when I attempt to train my alcohol tolerance. As a result, half of my liver has gotten removed. When I'm on the verge of death, I hear my parents snickering outside my ward. "Don't you think we've laced too many sleeping pills in his drink? He almost didn't wake up back then!" "It's fine. He's an idiot who merely thinks he has a low alcohol tolerance. Our family still relies on him for financial survival, you see. We can keep drugging him so that he'll keep getting wasted." When I open my eyes again, I've already gotten reborn in the timeframe when I'm sitting at the dining table in the 20th year.

Miley's life fell apart on the night of her 19th Birthday. The celebration was tainted by the business of betrayal. At the party, Miley's drink was spiked, and when she felt ill, she staggered out of the room, only to stumble upon a conspiracy between her boyfriend and her sister. She had always known that her sister didn't love her. but what she hadn't expected was that her boyfriend, whom she had always trusted, was also in cahoots with her. Realization stung sharper than the cold air outside as she discovered their cruel intentions to humiliate her. Overwhelmed and betrayed, she found refuge in an unfamiliar room. But fate, it seemed, had a cocktail of sorrows lined up for her. In the room she sought refuge in was Logan Pierce. This man, a dominant and arrogant person, and her boyfriend's uncle were known to be a living nightmare for those who would cross his path. Under the influence of drugs, they slipped into a night, and he took her for the first time in ways she wished she could forget. Waking up to a world where accusations were hurled at her from all corners, her family turned their backs on her. Placating Logan seemed to have ranked higher than standing up for Miley, their own blood. Disowned and discarded, Miley found herself abandoned on the relentless, heartless streets. Years later, she had blossomed into the U.S. manager of Hales company. During a business meeting, she stumbled upon Logan once again. But the passing years had erased Miley's face from Logan's memory, arousing within him a curiosity and fascination for this elusive lady director. unable to recall the tragic past, Logan felt unwarranted anger towards Miley as he continuously evaded her- thus beginning their forbidden dance of desire yet again.