Dti 1920s/roaring Twenties

🔥 14.09.2024 🦁 • DARK FLAG • พระเอกธงดำสนิทค่ะ ถ้าไม่ชอบดราม่าหนัก/ไม่ชอบนอกกาย ตกก.มีนิยายในคลังให้เลือกอ่านเยอะนะคะ "What are you?" "Angel." "What's your name?" "Satan." • TAKE ME TO HELL 🔥 • กดเข้าชั้น > ถูกใจ > คอมเม้นต์ = เติมเชื้อไฟในตัวนักเขียน 🤓 แนะนำตัวละคร Lion | ไลออน 🏴 "ฉันจะทำอะไรกับของฟรี อย่างเธอดีนะ?" 🦁 • มาเฟียหนุ่มเลือดร้อน ผู้คลั่งไคล้การเอาชนะ • เขาคือหัวหน้าคนใหม่ แห่งเลโอนาร์ด แก็งมาเฟียใหญ่ ฮ่องกง อาณาจักรค้าอาวุธปืนเถื่อน ผับบาร์ กาสิโน่ และรวมไปถึงสิ่งผิดกฎหมายมากมาย Little Dear | ลิ(เติ้ล)เดียร์ หรือ LYDIA | ลิเดีย "แล้วฉันต้องทำยังไง..คุณถึงจะพอใจคะ?" 🦌 • หญิงที่ยอมทำทุกอย่างเพื่อปกป้องคนที่เธอรัก แม้แต่การยอมแต่งงานกับซาตานเช่น เขา • ___________

Jace Thorne—my childhood crush—crashed a car with me. I walked away fine. He "lost his memory." Plot twist: my dead grandma's soul moved in. "Jace is faking amnesia again to mess with my sweet granddaughter. If I were alive, I'd break his legs myself!" I blinked. Hard. Grandma's voice wouldn't shut up. "In her past life, Demi was miserable. Jace left her to rot while he partied with that Stafford girl. Had a heart attack, and he was lighting birthday candles. Trash!" Then came the kicker: "Your grandpa's letting you pick your fiancé. Don't even think about Jace. Pick Leroy. That boy's actually decent." Right on cue, Grandpa strolled into the hospital with the elder squad, slapped down pics of four legacy heirs, and told me to choose. I didn't even blink. Picked Leroy Leighton—my childhood nemesis turned fiancé. Because yeah, I'm a grandma's girl to the core. If she said Jace Thorne didn't love me, then I was so done.

At the dinner table, my wife's best friend suddenly speaks to her in Lytian. "Three years ago, you married Julian in a grand wedding just to help Jace get Julian's letter of forgiveness. Over the years, I've seen Julian fall more and more deeply in love with you. Yet, you're still lying to him. "You gave him sterilization pills but passed them off as his depression medication. Aren't you afraid that he'll fall apart if he finds out the truth?" My wife, Erica Inman, briefly shows a conflicted expression on her face. She then gives a bitter smile and says, "A child unwanted by their mother has no reason to be born. As long as Julian doesn't stand in the way of Jace's happiness, I will keep my promise and stay by his side for the rest of his life." No one knows that I've learned Lytian to keep up with Erica. I stand in the living room and look at the fresh kiss mark on my neck. As I glance at the medication I take regularly for my depression, my whole body turns cold. It turns out that all of Erica's affection toward me was fake. What I thought was my salvation turns out to be nothing but a carefully planned deception. Since that's the case, I'll do my part to make sure they all get what they want.

While my husband was chatting with his friend at the dining table, his friend suddenly spoke in Italian. “You married Lyra to write a pardon letter for River. You’ve been showing more concern toward Lyra, but you’re still lying to her and saying that the contraceptives are antidepressants. Don’t you think Lyra will break down if she learns the truth?” My husband wore a complicated expression as he chuckled bitterly and said, “Why let a child be born if I don’t want it? As for Lyra, so long as she doesn’t interfere with River’s happiness, I’ll keep my promise and protect her for life.” No one knew that I had already learned Italian to keep up with my husband. I stood in the living room with fresh hickeys on my neck. In my hand, I held the “antidepressants” and felt a chill run down my spine. So, my husband’s love for me had been fake? My salvation had actually been a meticulously planned lie? In that case, I would help them fulfill their wishes.

Ashton had always been deeply devoted. However, on the day his first love was diagnosed with cancer, he handed me a pill that could erase memories. "Macie," he said gently, "Lydia doesn't have much time left. Give me three days—to give her the wedding she's always dreamed of." "I promise I won't break your heart.This pill will make you forget, just temporarily. Once it's over, you'll take the antidote, fall in love with me again, and we'll get married—properly, this time." His eyes left no room for doubt. So I took the pill and swallowed it. No hesitation. However, what Ashton did not realize... I created the memory-erasing drug. There is no antidote. In three days, I'll forget him—forever.

I had been asleep from 1975 to 2025. I am the only successful subject to have ever survived a cryonics experiment. Wearing the face of a 20-year-old, I set off to seek out my wealthy younger brother and reclaim my place in the family. But a barrage of comments suddenly appears. "This female lead is stupid. Her brother took her small shop and turned it into a business empire. People change. He doesn't even remember her anymore. Why would he want to reconnect with her?" "Exactly! The Slater family is tearing itself apart over the inheritance. If she shows up, they'll kill her!" "Michael Shaw truly loves her. If she marries him, she'll be happy for life." Just then, Michael drops to one knee before me. "Zoe, the Slaters are too dangerous. Don't go back, okay? Marry me instead. I'll take care of you and protect you for the rest of my life." His words touch me. Before I can reply, I hear his thoughts in my ear. "System, did you post the fake comments?"

I somehow became the "dream girl" of a cold, dangerous villain straight outta a novel. Well—technically, it was my mini burritos that did the damage. Hot, cheap, and hit like a hug. The year his whole world crashed, Rory Roth showed up scrawny and wrecked, clutching three crumpled bucks. "Can I get one mini burrito?" I stood there with a spatula in hand, staring at the kid who'd one day become some criminal mastermind genius. But right now? No threat, no swagger—just a shivering kid with wary eyes. "I'm not tryna scam you. If it's not enough, I'll wash dishes, mop floors, help with customers—whatever. Once I make up the rest, c-could you make me a mini burrito then?" That's when it hit me. This so-called villain... was just a starving, beat-down kid.

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

Juliet Sutton has always been hopelessly devoted. But the day her first love is diagnosed with cancer, she hands me a pill that can make someone forget. She says, "Matthew, Wilson doesn't have much time left. Give me three days. Let me give him the wedding he always dreamed of. "I won't break your heart. This pill only causes temporary memory loss. Once the ceremony is over, you take the antidote, fall in love with me again, and then we'll remarry." Seeing the resolve in her eyes, I take the pill and swallow it without hesitation. What Juliet doesn't know is that I'm the one who developed the pill. There is no antidote. In three days, I'll forget her completely.

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.