Boys Locker Room Story

My husband, Julian Sutton, is busy with work on the day of my prenatal checkup. His childhood sweetheart, Vera Levine, with whom he's been amorous for years, offers to drive me. On the way there, she suddenly swerves and rams into the back of a truck. The car is flattened. Julian is a doctor in the emergency room, but I don't call him. Instead, I dial 911 and wait for assistance. Why? I called him in my past life, and he took me to the hospital. Our child was saved, but Vera died due to significant blood loss. Julian claimed not to blame me and even arranged for me to stay in a private hospital ward. But on the day I was discharged, he dragged me to Vera's grave and stabbed me. I lost the child and was on the verge of death as I stared into his bloodshot eyes. They were filled with unbridled hatred as he snarled, "Vera wouldn't have died if you hadn't grabbed the wheel! Don't think I'll believe you just because you're acting innocent! An eye for an eye—I want you to die for her, but only after experiencing the pain she felt in a hundredfold!" He twisted the blade and stabbed me repeatedly. My blood splattered on Vera's gravestone, dying it red. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been taken back to the scene of the accident.

What a small world. As Elaine Johnson was checking in at the hotel front desk, she happened to bump into Jasper Carter's young mistress —a girl who looked like an innocent college student. She was dressed in a simple white cotton dress, pure and demure, with a shy, sweet smile. "Hello, here's your room key. You'll be staying in the executive suite on the top floor," the receptionist said. "Thank you, miss," the girl replied softly, taking the key. Just then, her phone rang. Elaine overheard her speaking bashfully to the person on the other end: "Mr. Carter, I... I'm already here. When will you be coming?" Her tone was soft, a little nervous, filled with affectionate anticipation. A moment later, Elaine heard her add, "Mhm, I'll wait for you. No rush. Please drive carefully, Mr. Carter." The girl's voice was so sweet and tender, it could have melted anyone's heart. Elaine could not help thinking that her husband had good taste — the girl was young and beautiful, gentle and thoughtful, the kind of woman any man would find hard to resist.

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.

The day after I returned to my home country, my old classmates ambushed me with an invitation to a reunion. In the hotel, I ran into my ex, Shawn Quinn, whom I hadn't seen in five years. The room froze when he pulled out a ring and proposed. Gasps rippled through the crowd. They all expected me to jump at the chance, given how hard I had chased him back in the day. They forgot the gut-punch of our graduation day. Shawn had sided with another woman, letting her paint me as a plagiarist, a cheater, a bully. The school authorities revoked my diploma and kicked me out of the ceremony. Humiliated, I fled abroad, leaving behind a shattered heart. Now, his best friend told me, "Shawn pulled strings to get your diploma back despite your past mistakes. He never forgot about you. He has been waiting for you all these years. You're his only love."

The night before the annual gala, my wife promised me a big surprise. But the very next day, she publicly quintupled the marketing manager's bonus. To me, she just gave a curt nod and a half-hearted "keep up the good work". When I questioned her decision, she brushed it off casually. "You've racked up some impressive wins in court. I'll give you that, but let's be real. Without Kevin hyping you up, you'd never have hit top-tier status. Plus, what's mine is yours. Why nitpick over a bonus?" The room buzzed with anticipation of my explosion. But I held my tongue till the gala ended. The next morning, I marched into her office and slapped my resignation letter down on her desk. "Might as well tack my salary onto Kevin's. Consider it my wedding present to you." She erupted, branding me as narrow-minded and dooming me to the unemployment line. She conveniently overlooked my track record as a powerhouse attorney. For that alone, elite firms were lining up to recruit me.

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.

My older sister was always kind-hearted, while I was born a natural troublemaker. When the intense heatwave struck, our family stocked up on supplies and stayed indoors. My sister saw a little boy, who seemed about seven or eight years old, crying and asking for help. She decided to take him in. “We’ve plenty of supplies anyway. One more person won’t make much difference. Besides, he’s just a child.” I warned her that the boy looked oddly mature and might not be as innocent as he seemed. I suggested we observe him a bit longer. She said I was a cold-hearted troublemaker by nature. Then, she went and let him in anyway. Not just that, but she also convinced our mother to force me to share a room with the boy. That night, the scheming “little boy” secretly climbed into my bed. I was brutally assaulted. Yet my sister told me to let bygones be bygones and marry him. To force me to obey, she locked me out on the balcony at over 140 °F. Enraged, I set a fire and killed everyone. When I opened my eyes again and saw my sister safe and unharmed, I smiled. This time, I would show them what a troublemaker really was.

I caught my fiancé, Nico Falcone, in bed with my own cousin, Bianca Rossi. Right before our wedding. When I confronted him, he just called the whole thing off and ran me out of New York. I didn’t see him again for five years. Then came the charity gala for the New York Families. There he was. Nico. He pulled me aside, saying he felt bad for the state I was in. He offered to make me his mistress. I told him to go to hell. He got ugly. The whole room was laughing. Whispering how an outcast like me had no business showing my face in New York. I clenched my fists, the sound of their mockery ringing in my ears. Just then, the entire ballroom went dead silent. Every head bowed in respect. Don Lucas, the most feared man in New York, was walking slowly toward us. He stopped right in front of me. With the whole room watching, he dropped to one knee. He took my hand—the one Nico had squeezed red—and kissed it. His voice was dangerously low. “Who hurt my future wife?”

“ไคล์อยู่มั้ย?” “นายอยู่ด้านในครับ แต่ว่า….” “ขอบใจนะ” หรรษาเดินตัวปลิวเข้าไปด้านในคลับหรู ก่อนเปิดประตูห้องVVIPเข้าไป เจอปาร์ตี้ของชายหญิงหลายคู่ ก่อนขาเรียวจะเดินตรงคว้าแก้วเหล้าเต็มแก้วแล้วหยุดที่หน้าชายหนุ่มนัยตาเย็นชา ซ่า!!!! แก้วเหล้าทั้งแก้วราดลงบนศรีษะของหญิงสาวที่กำลังนั่งคลอเคลียร์ชายหนุ่มตรงหน้าจนหญิงสาวคนนั้นกรีดร้องออกมา “กรี๊ดดดดดด” “สาระแน!! ไสหัวออกไปห่างๆ!” หรรษาเอ่ย “หรรษา!! เธอทำอะไร” ไคล์เอ่ย “มือมันลั่น” หรรษาเอ่ย “มานี่!” ชายหนุ่มลุกขึ้นก่อนลากแขนหญิงสาวออกจากห้องทันทีด้วยใบหน้าแสนน่ากลัว “ไคล์ หรรษาเจ็บนะ ปล่อยได้แล้ว” “เธอจะก่อเรื่องอีกนายมั้ย!” ไคล์เอ่ย “ใครใช้ให้นังนั่นมากอดนายก่อนละ” “เดี๋ยว! เราไม่ได้เป็นอะไรกัน เธอเลิกรังควานผู้หญิงทุกคนรอบตัวฉันได้แล้ว!” ไคล์เอ่ย “งั้นก็เป็นอะไรกันซะซิ แค่นั้นก็จบ”หรรษาเอ่ย หรรษา แฝดน้องของกะตัญ จากเรื่อง กลรักร้าย เจ้านายมาเฟีย

"ฉันก็ไม่รู้ว่าทำไมยังรักเธอ ทั้งๆที่เธอก็ชอบหนีฉัน" "นิวก็ไม่รู้ว่าทำไมยังรักจักรคนเดียว ทั้งๆที่จักรก็ใจร้ายมากเหมือนกัน"