Socrates Death Painting

After my death, I found myself inside a romance strategy game, where the system assigned me three male leads. If I followed its instructions and successfully captured the heart of any one of them, I would return alive and well in the real world. Drawing on my experience, I crafted careful scripts to win their affection. Yet, every attempt ended in failure. The reason was simple: each of them had already fallen for the dazzling heroine of their world. They hurled cruel words at me, as if wishing I would just drop dead. In the end, I fulfilled their desire—when my strategies failed, the system erased me. But the moment I died, they all regretted it. One by one, they begged the heavens to return me to them.

I took my last breath when his hatred for had reached it's peak. I chose to take my own life, when I could no longer bear the wait of his hatred When my ashes was handed to Leo, my mate, he smiled and patted it. He was pleased I had finally died. “Filthy thing. She should’ve died a death more painful than this,” he said as he tipped the urn sending it crashing to the ground. He believed I had killed his first love. Despite all our years together, he was waiting for this moment to get his revenge. The air carried my ashes as he stepped over them and walked away. But not long after he returned in regret begging to have me returned to him.

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

I was the real heiress in a case of a mistaken identity. Three months after my return, the imposter heiress disappeared.   My brother, Caleb Carter, accused me of jealousy, believing I had driven the fake heiress away. The disappointed look on my parents’ faces revealed their true thoughts.   I was confined in the basement, subjected to daily torture.   Even after my death, my family donated my brain to a research institution.   Later, I watched from heaven as my family broke down upon watching my memories.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

เมื่อชีวิตหลังแต่งงานดำดิ่งสู่หายนะ ศักดิ์ศรีความเป็นเมียถูกเหยียบย่ำไม่เหลือชิ้นดี เธอจึงเลือก 'หย่า' ในวันที่รักนั้นร้าวราน 'บัว บงกชเพชร' นักวาดภาพสดตามงานแต่ง หรือ Live wedding painting ที่มีชื่อเสียง เลือกก้าวเข้าสู่ประตูวิวาห์กับนักร้องหนุ่มวงเนเวอร์แบดอย่าง 'เปรม ปิติภัทร' เธอเชื่อว่านั่นคือจุดเริ่มต้นของชีวิตคู่อันงดงาม แต่เบื้องหลังแววตาอบอุ่นของสามีและรอยยิ้มใสซื่อของผู้เป็นน้องสาว กลับมีแรงปรารถนาอันบิดเบี้ยวซุกซ่อนอยู่ คนศีลต่ำลอบเป็นชู้กันอย่างไร้จิตสำนึก เมื่อรักกลายเป็นคำลวง ความผูกพันผันแปรเป็นอาวุธที่พร้อมทิ่มแทงใจ เธอจึงตัดขาดความสัมพันธ์ เลือกเดินหน้าสู่การหย่าร้างมากกว่านอนกอดทะเบียนสมรสเอาไว้ทั้งน้ำตา ไม่มีผู้หญิงคนไหนควรถูกสามีนอกใจ หญิงร้ายชายเลวไม่มีวันได้เสวยสุขอยู่ในวิมานที่วาดฝัน ในเมื่อเธอพัง เขากับชู้ก็ต้องเจอจุดจบที่ไม่ต่างกัน แต่ในช่วงเวลาที่ทุกข์ระทมขมขื่น 'เหนือ นิธิโชติ' แสดงให้เห็นว่าบงกชเพชรยังคงมีค่าในสายตาเขา ที่ผ่านมาเธอแค่อยู่ผิดที่ผิดเวลา หลงมอบหัวใจให้คนสารเลว เมื่อมีเขาเยียวยารักษาแผลใจโดยไม่แคร์คำว่าผู้หญิงที่แต่งงานแล้ว ความรักของบงกชเพชรจึงเบ่งบานงดงามอีกครั้ง

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

The day my girlfriend’s condition worsened and she needed urgent surgery, I publicly called her a burden in front of everyone. Despite her pleas, I abandoned her cruelly. Seven years later, she became a formidable international tycoon and returned home with great fanfare. To exact her revenge on me, the heartless man, she poisoned my mother into silence and sent my father to prison. Eager to see me beg for mercy, she mobilized every connection to track me down. At this point, her parents could no longer bear to watch. With tears streaming down their faces, they revealed the entire truth. “He died seven years ago to donate his organs to you!”

For seven years, I love Cody Rummish, clinging to his promise—once his sister-in-law, Luna Briche, conceives, our ordeal ends, and we finally begin our married life. But reality betrays me. Just months after moving into his home, Cody slips into Luna's bedroom 88 times—starting with once a month, now nearly one or two visits daily. Every night, I sit in the downstairs living room, counting the minutes, clutching a flicker of unrealistic hope. As the sole heir after his twin brother's fatal plane crash, Cody inherits not just power and wealth but also, seamlessly, his brother's widow, Luna. After the 88th visit, Luna announces her pregnancy. But instead of Cody honoring his promise, a public declaration shatters me—he will formally marry Luna. I unravel, demanding answers. Silent, Cody locks me in the bedroom's walk-in closet. "Luna was trapped in an elevator for 30 minutes! She nearly died because of you! Stay here for five days. Feel her fear!" Only on the sixth morning does Cody casually open the door with a chuckle. "Alright, lesson learned. Time to apologize, right?" He finds only the stench of blood and my cold, lifeless body. He's killed the fiancée who's loved him for seven years.

My father hates my mother for ruining his chance with his first love, and his hatred spills onto me, the unwanted child who carries her blood. I'm 18 when I'm kidnapped. The abductor calls Dad, who is a police officer, and threatens him. Dad thinks I staged the whole thing myself and tells the man to slice me apart if he wants to. The abductor tortures me to death. He even cuts my body into pieces and feeds it to the fish. Only then does Dad lose his mind. He tracks down the abductor and hacks him to death.