Insta Empire Full Story

“เดี๋ยวๆ พี่จะตามทำไมนักหนาเนี้ย ไม่มีงาน มีการ ทำกับเขาหรือไง” “ไปเดตกับฉันก่อนซิ” “พี่จะบ้าหรือไง จะชวนสาวไปเดตแต่มาตามบังคับเนี่ยนะ!” “ก็อยากไปเดตด้วยไง” “โอ๊ย!!! จะดึงเปียหนูทำไมเนี้ย! เจ็บนะ” เมื่อหญิงสาวไม่ยอมหยุดเดินหนี หนุ่มมาดขี้เล่นแต่ออกทื่อๆไปสักหน่อยก็คว้าเปียสองข้างของเธอดึงให้หยุดเดิน “อยากไม่ยอมหยุดเดินทำไม” “เชื่อเขาเลย! ดูหน้าหนูด้วย แว่นหนาขนาดนี้มีอะไรให้มาสนใจไม่ทราบ หล่อซะเปล่า” หญิงสาวผมเปียใส่แว่นเอ่ย “เธอฮอตจะตายไป ฉันเห็นตอนเธอถอดแว่นแล้ว” “พูดอะไรของพี่” “คอสเพย์สัปดาห์ก่อน” “!!!!!!!!!”

นิยายเซ็ต มาเฟียบ้านปีกซ้าย “ ไคเดน ” ชื่อนี้ที่มามาพร้อมกับภาพของมาเฟียหนุ่มรูปหล่อ และเจ้าชู้เสน่ห์แพรวพราว แต่แฝงไปด้วยความน่ากลัวและความนิ่งเมื่อเขาอยู่ต่อหน้าคนที่ไม่ถูกใจ “ เด็กคนนี้ไม่ใช่ลูกผม ผมมีเมียที่ไหนแม่” “ ไม่ใช่ลูกมึงเลยสิ หน้าตาถอดแบบมึงมาเป๊ะ ไปทำผู้หญิงท้องตอนไหนมา” หรรษาที่ยืนกอดอกพร้อมกับไคเดน เบื้องหน้ามีเด็กหญิงน่าตาจิ้มลิ้มยืนอยู่ “ ผมไม่รู้แม่” “ มันน่าฟาดให้หัวแตกเลยดีมั้ย!!!” “เฮ้ยๆ อย่านะแม่ ผมไม่รู้จริงๆ คู่นอนผมมีเป็น 10 เป็น 100 ป้องกันทุกรอบ” “ ถุงยางอนามัยมันเสื่อมคุณภาพหรือไง ป้องกันยังไงมีเด็กหน้าตาเหมือนมึงอย่างกับย้อนเวลามายืนอยู่ตรงนี้เนี่ย!!” เสียงของหรรษาผู้เป็นแม่เอ่ยขึ้น “ ก็ผมไม่รู้จริงๆแม่” “ มึงไปหาคำตอบมา ไม่งั้นแม่จะฟาดที่หัวแตกเลย!!”

My younger brother had opened a high-end beauty salon, so I took my mother there for a facial. We picked the most expensive package, but the moment the mask was applied, Mom's face began to burn. When we peeled it off, her entire face was covered in rashes. I called for the director, but she looked impatient. "Oh, that's just a normal detox reaction." I was stunned. "Her face is practically ruined! What products are you even using?" "Ruined?" She flared up like someone had stepped on her tail. "Your mom's skin is just too bad to handle premium nutrients! Once our products are opened, they're non-refundable—got it?" I pointed to the brochure. "It says right here—'gentle and non-irritating, full refund if any adverse reaction occurs.' Is this how Stellan Fallow taught you to run a business?" She crossed her arms and lifted her chin high. "I am the boss! You and your mother look broke as hell—clearly here to mooch a free treatment. Now that it didn't work, you're trying to scam us for money? "Let me tell you something—this set costs 38 thousand, and with my emotional damages and lost wages, that's a total of 100 thousand. If you don't pay up today, I'll have the police take you both in!" A hundred thousand for a product that ruined someone's face? It was no wonder Stellan suddenly wanted to open a salon—it turned out he and his girlfriend were running a scam together! I was about to call Stellan, but before I could, she hit the video dial first. "Bubby, get over here—two broke idiots tried to freeload a treatment and now they're trying to shake us down for money!"

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help.

It happened overnight. A job label suddenly appeared on everyone's forehead. My wife was [Cleaner], while her first love, the man she had always pined for, was [Unemployed]. She hugged my leg and begged me pitifully, "Honey, your label is [Emperor]! That's a useless label in this modern era. Please give it to him so that he can revive his career by using the fate of the chosen one." Before I could answer her, her first love and her knocked me unconscious and pointed an ancient bronze mirror at my forehead while chanting a spell. The golden label of [Emperor] left my forehead. It was an excruciating pain that felt like my soul was being torn apart, and I almost passed out. The label ended up being branded on the forehead of her first love. They celebrated wildly when it appeared on his head. As I opened my eyes slowly, I was filled with pity for them. They had no idea that the full label was [The Last Emperor].

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

Due to my outstanding performance, Mdm. Hall granted me flexible working hours. After a full night of entertaining clients, I had barely fallen asleep when a colleague’s call jolted me awake. “It’s already 9:30 a.m.! How could you be late again?” I patiently explained that I had worked late signing contracts last night. So, I would not be coming into the office this morning. However, my colleague scoffed. “Don’t think that being the top salesperson gives you free rein to skip work! “The heiress, Ms. Hall, is visiting the office for the first time today! “If you upset her, you’d better watch out. She’ll have you fired!” I pushed through my headache and searched my memory. The heiress he mentioned was Cadence Hall. If I was not mistaken, she was the woman who had been desperate to marry into my family.

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

Susan Miller, my father's caretaker, often complains that the supplements keep running out. The wild kingroots that are worth 500 thousand dollars are completely used up even though Susan has only made soup with them twice in a row. As I filter through the medicinal residue with a frown on my face, Susan sinks down to her knees and begins slapping herself. "They must have melted in the soup because of my lack of attention! Please dock my pay, Ms. Lawson, but please don't fire me!" But that night, I come across a post uploaded by Susan's son, Roman Cox, on Instagram. "Hi everyone! Today, I'm challenging myself to eat two wild kingroots in one go!" When I see Roman picking up a familiar-lookng giftbox, I feel my temper flaring instantly. Then, I order a packet of potent aphrodisiacs meant for animals on the spot. It turns out that Roman intends to chug down my prized Romanee-Conti in the next episode of his stream. Well then, I'll let him have his feel of drinking something else!