Short Story Name Generator

ลูกสาวมาเฟีย มาเจอกับ มาเฟียเจ้าของคลังเหล้า ไวน์ นำเข้าที่ใหญ่ที่สุดในเอเชีย เมื่อสาวชอบดื่ม เจอกับเจ้าของคลังเหล้าความเมามันส์จึงเริ่มต้นขึ้น

เขาหล่อ แต่เขาร้าย เขาดี แต่ไม่ใช่กับเธอ เมื่อแม่บ้านจำเป็นต้องมาปะทะกับเจ้านายมาเฟียผีดิบ จุดจบจะสุขหรือเศร้า

“ทำไมถึงมีรอยแผลแบบนี้บ่อยขนาดนี้ครับ อาทิตย์นี้ผมเจอคุณ 3ครั้งแล้ว?” หมอมาร์เวลเอ่ยกับหญิงสาวสวยเปรี้ยวถึงใจที่เธอมาโรงพยาบาลด้วยอาการเป็นแผลเหมือนเกิดอุบัติเหตุ แต่ไม่ได้เยอะอะไร ”คุณหมอจำเป็นต้องรู้เพื่อใช้สั่งยาหรือไงคะ“ ”ดูท่าทางคุณระมัดระวังกับรอยแผลมาก ไม่น่าจะสุ่มส่ามเป็นแผลเองบ่อยหรอกมั้งครับ เพราะถ้าแผลแค่นี้คุณรีบมาหาหมอละก็“ ”......“ ”ผมพูดถูกใจดำหรือไงครับ“ ”งานฉันมันต้องใช้เรือนร่าง เพราะฉะนั้นฉันจำเป็นต้องไม่มีตำหนิ“ ”........“ เมื่อได้ยินหญิงสาวพูดแบบนั้น หมอมาร์เวลถึงกับชะงักนิ่งไป ” ใช้เรือนร่างที่คุณว่า มันใช้แบบไหนกัน“ ” ถ้าคุณหมออยากรู้ ก็ไปที่อะโกโก้คลับตรงซอย 15 นะคะ“

“คุณหนูจะกลับเลยมั้ยครับ” “กลับเลย หงุดหงิดมาก” เสียงบ่นของนานี่ที่ดูจะไม่สบอารมณ์ ก่อนที่จะเดินปึงปังขึ้นรถไปโดยมีบอดี้การ์ดส่วนตัวเดินตามไปติดๆ เมื่อกลับมาถึงคอนโด นานี่ก็ล้มตัวลงนอนบนเตียงโดยที่ไม่ได้ถอดแม้กระทั้งรองเท้า “คุณหนูอาบน้ำก่อนดีกว่าครับ เดี๋ยวผมไปเตรียมนมอุ่นให้” “ทีโอ ... นายทำอะไรอ่ะ” นานี่เอ่ยทั้งที่ไม่ยอมลืมตาเมื่อรู้สึกว่าบอดี้การ์ดคู่ใจกำลังทำบางอย่าง บอดี้การ์ดหนุ่มค่อยๆถอดรองเท้าส้นสูงออกจากขาเรียวก่อนจะเดินเอามันไปเก็บที่ชั้นเก็บรองเท้าสุดหรูของนานี่ “นายดูแลฉันดีกว่าเมียอีกเนอะ”

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

Seven years into our marriage, my husband, Lucas Thorne, is hailed as a legendary astronomer in the field of astronomy. It is no secret that he absolutely adores me, his wife. He always keeps a polite, distant demeanor with those around him. Even when his new assistant, Serena Cox, asks for his number, he coldly turns her down. In the year he proposed to me, he named a star "LAW", which was an acronym for "Lucas Adores Wilma". Since then, every asteroid he discovers is named with initials that hold a special significance only the two of us know. To others, they might just be scientific achievements. But to me, they are unspoken love letters. This goes on until this morning, when I stumble upon an unfamiliar phone. I unlock it easily with my middle name, thinking it's yet another quiet gesture of his love. But to my horror, I find a string of explicit messages between him and another woman. The person who was at the receiving end of those messages was none other than… Serena, his assistant.

As the only daughter of a casino magnate, I have grown up surrounded by danger and betrayal. To keep me safe, my father has raised nine bodyguards from a young age. After I come of age, he asks me to choose one of them as my fiance. Everyone expects me to pick Harry Hunt, the man I have secretly loved for years. But I do not—not after what happened in my previous life. On the day of our engagement, I was kidnapped, and my hands were pierced with poison-tipped spikes. Tortured and desperate, I called Harry for help. His response still haunts me today. "Victoria, stop with these games. Your location shows you're still in the hotel suite. Trying to pull these pity stunts just to keep me to yourself? Pathetic." With another woman laughing in the background, I closed my eyes and gave up. As the iron cage sank beneath the waves and the sea filled my lungs, my life ended. Then, I open my eyes and find myself back on the day my father asked me to make a choice. This time, Harry's name is the first I cross off the list. But why is he crying and begging me to marry him at my engagement banquet with Jeffrey Reed?

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

It was a national holiday and we decided to drive back to my husband's hometown to spend the holidays. One day before we left, my husband's childhood crush came crying to him that she had not managed to buy train tickets home. My husband immediately decided to let her have my seat in the car and insisted that I take the train instead. I looked at him in disbelief. There was shock in my eyes. Even my son insisted I take the train. "Mommy, Aunt Rosie is so pretty. How could you make her take the train?" I did not argue. I booked my train ticket right in front of them. However, it was to my own hometown. I no longer wanted a biased husband and a disloyal son.