Russian Sleep Experiment Story

"ฉันก็ไม่รู้ว่าทำไมยังรักเธอ ทั้งๆที่เธอก็ชอบหนีฉัน" "นิวก็ไม่รู้ว่าทำไมยังรักจักรคนเดียว ทั้งๆที่จักรก็ใจร้ายมากเหมือนกัน"

“เขต ปล่อยเนียร์นะ เจ็บ!!” “นี่ไง อาณาเขตที่เธออยากได้นักหนา!! นี่ไงซาเนียร์!!!” “เนียร์ ไม่ได้…ฮึก! ปล่อยนะ!!” “วันนั้นเธอเสนอตัวมาให้ฉันเอาถึงห้อง!! ยังบอกว่าไม่ใช่หรือไง!!!” เพียะ!!!!! ฝามือเล็กๆของซาเนียร์ฟาดลงบนหน้าหล่อๆของอาณาเขตเต็มแรง “เขตเคยฟังเนียร์มั้ยว่าเกิดอะไรขึ้น ฮึก!” “คงเกิด!! เกิดอยากได้ฉันจนตัวสั่นไง!” “ว่าไงนะ” “เธอจำไว้ ว่าเธอกล้าทำฉันเจ็บ เธอต้องเจ็บกว่าฉันเป็นร้อยเท่า!” “……” ชายหนุ่มเดินออกจากคอนโดของหญิงสาวไปด้วยความโมโห เขาเจ็บเจียนตายสาเหตุมาจากผู้หญิงคนนี้ เพราะเธอ ความรักของเขาต้องพังลงจนไม่เหลือชิ้นดี

Cas, a government experiment, is used to being sent out to commit blind violence. But a new project is on the roster, one that has her world turned completely upside down.

There comes a time in some people’s lives when they feel like actors playing a role for which someone has changed the story line.Toast With Jelly is a powerful story of a woman coming to know herself through a series of tragic life events."A Wild Ride .... Pam has had a childhood that most people would't recover from. Nonetheless, she's trying to make a life for herself, with a job and a beautiful Russian lover. When she takes up the offer of high paid escort work, the life she worked to build starts falling apart. As she tumbles from one problem to the next, who will save her? Her mother, who caused all the trauma? Her sensual, hard-drinking lover, who is off the rails? Or the handsome martial arts teacher she may be falling for?

After receiving the news that her husband had died during a mission, my sister-in-law collapsed from the shock. When she woke up, she'd lost her memory. She clung to my husband and refused to let go. Our husbands were twin brothers. The doctor said she couldn't be triggered, so my husband and mother-in-law sat me down and begged me to play along until she got over this. Every time I brought it up again, they shut me down. "This is only until she gets her memory back!" So I watched as my husband and his widowed sister-in-law eat, sleep, and live under the same roof. Even our daughter could only stand by and watch her cousin call him "Daddy". One day, my daughter spiked a high fever and wouldn't wake up. I begged my husband to take us to the hospital. Unexpectedly, his sister-in-law went berserk over it and threatened to kill herself. In the chaos, I was stabbed in the heart by the scissors she swung around. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the day my husband agreed to play the role of a substitute husband.

An impulsive murder of the next Tzar landed the Russian Mafia Princess, Dinara Anya Isyanov in the States as a fugitive. The perfect plan was to flee to a safer secluded area but the night she was to be shipped, she was kidnapped. Her Kidnapper insisted that she was their daughter, Serena White, who happens to be her doppelganger! With the shipment off-shore and Dinara on the shore; she decided an identity theft was in order. But as if she wasn't in jeopardy enough Serena White was engaged to the Italian Mafia's heir who was an arch-enemy of the Russian Mafia!

In the second month of my relationship with my best friend Sophie Vaughn's older brother, Elias Vaughn, Thanksgiving arrives. Sophie leans in, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Elias is bringing his girlfriend home for the holiday. Let's see what all the fuss is about." I take my time getting ready, heart fluttering with hope. Just maybe, I'll finally be formally introduced as his girlfriend. But the moment I step inside, I see him with another elegant, beautiful woman, smiling as he introduces her to his parents. "This is my girlfriend," he says. He then inadvertently looks over at me, stiffening for a moment, clearly caught off guard. But just as quickly, he recovers and turns to the woman beside him. "That woman over there is my sister's friend and a part-time student. You could say she's a maid in our household." A maid? As it turns out, I'm nothing more than someone for him to kiss and sleep with. I was never someone worthy of standing by his side publicly. I turn away and board the train back to Ashcroft University, choosing my future over another night in his bedroom.

Our daughter was diagnosed with a genetic illness. To save her, my husband founded a charity in her name. To raise the funds, he pushed himself to the brink—working three hundred days straight, surviving on three hours of sleep a night. His relentless drive moved countless people. The media hailed him as "Father of the Year." Everyone congratulated me on having such a devoted partner. Then came the day he rallied the entire nation, securing pledges for millions in donations to fund our daughter's cure. At the gala, with over ten million dollars moments from being transferred, I suddenly hit the pause button. "And now, we'll take a brief intermission for a signing," I announced. The room erupted. They shouted at me, called me selfish, a monster. My husband stared at me, utterly stunned. "Have you lost your mind? Children around the world are waiting on this money to survive! What in God's name are you talking about?" I lifted my gaze to meet his. "A divorce agreement."

"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?"