Story About Success

“ธันเดอร์” มาเฟียหนุ่มผู้ที่ฟาดผู้หญิงทุกคนที่ผ่านเข้ามาในชีวิต มีวุฒิภาวะความเป็นผู้ใหญ่สูงพอตัว ผู้ชายพูดตรง ทำจริง เห็นผู้หญิงเป็นที่ระบายอารมณ์ จนกระทั่งมาตกม้าตายให้กับสาวแสบลูกมาเฟียเช่นกัน “บลิ๊ง” ลูกสาวคนโตของบรีสกับเฌอ(จากเรื่องรักพี่ชาย) หญิงสาวผู้ที่ไม่เคยกลัวใครนอกจากพ่อเท่านั้นเป็นลูกสาวคนโตที่โหดจนน้องๆแค่ได้ยินขื่อยังสยอง ความแสบไม่ต้องนับ เพราะเธอคนนี้มีมากกว่าที่คาดคิด จนกระทั่งมาเจอมาเฟียหนุ่ม เรื่องยุ่งๆก็เกิดขึ้นมากมายหลังจากนั้น “ใครเหนือใคร รอชม!!!”

“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

“ ถ้าเลือกเกิดได้ ก็อยากเกิดมาเหมาะสมกับเธอมากกว่านี้ ในฐานะที่ไม่ใช่พี่ชาย“ หนุ่มหล่อโสดมาดดี แววตามีแต่ความอบอุ่น ผู้ชายที่สุภาพและพูดเพราะคนนี้ เขาคือคนที่เธอเรียกว่าพี่ชายมาตลอดชีวิต “พี่ไทจะไปไหนคะ? ไม่นอนที่บ้านเหรอคะ?” “คืนนี้พี่มีนัดวันเกิดเพื่อนครับ ว่าจะนอนที่คอนโด” “แล้วใครจะไปส่งน้องไปเรียนละคะถ้าพี่ไทไม่อยู่” “พี่บอกคุณพ่อไว้แล้วครับ พรุ่งนี้คุณพ่อจะไปส่งหนูครับ” “ทำไมพี่ไทไปเที่ยวดึกๆได้ ทำไมหนูไปไม่ได้คะ ไม่ยุติธรรมเลยอ่ะ” “หนูยังเด็กนะโมลิน” “โตแล้วค่ะ โตจนมีแฟนได้แล้วค่ะ อุ๊บ!” “โมลิน ไหนพูดอีกทีซิว่ามีแฟน?” “อุ้ย! พี่ไทน่ากลัว ไปหาคุณแม่ดีกว่า” “เฮ้อ”

Midnight. I heard a faint meowing through the window. I was about to have a look when floating words appeared in front of me. [Don't open the window! There isn't a cat outside! It's a serial killer!] [I'm done. How could the side character be so dumb? I can already imagine how tragic her death will be.] [Go and find the villain! He loves you so much! He will surely protect you!] I quickly retracted my hand on the window latch…

I return to the country after attending an international anesthesia academic conference. That's when I see the news of my boyfriend and twin sister getting married. I'm anxious to verify its authenticity, but my sister drugs me and induces me. "A substitute's child will only be an unwelcome bastard even if it's born. I'm just helping it move on to a better life." Then, she slices me open with a scalpel. She gouges my womb out, causing me to die from significant blood loss. Meanwhile, my boyfriend believes her lies. He's sure he's not the father of my child. He ignores my messages begging him to save me. Instead, he spreads the word about me eloping with someone else. He even wipes all traces of me from his life. "I will never see her again, forever and ever." Five years later, surveillance footage of my sister cruelly murdering me surfaces.

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

On the day of Lucas' engagement, he managed to get a few lackeys to keep me occupied, and by the time I stepped out the police station, done with questioning, it was already dark outside. Arriving home, I stood there on the doorstep and eavesdropped on Lucas and his friends talking about me. "I was afraid she'd cause trouble, so I got her to spend the whole day at the police station. I made sure that everything would be set in stone by the time she got out." Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I blocked all of Lucas' contacts and went overseas without any hesitation. That night, Lucas lost all his composure, kicking over a table and smashing a bottle of liquor, sending glass shards flying all over the floor. "She's just throwing a tantrum because she's jealous… She'll come back once she gets over it…" What he didn't realize, then, was that this wasn't just a fit of anger or a petty tantrum. This time, I truly didn't want him anymore.

Just because I post one picture with my younger brother, Lucas Gambino, his girlfriend Betty Gotti decides I'm the other woman. She rolls up to my place with her crew, live‑streaming the whole thing while they tear it apart. "Look at this puttana trying to steal my man!" Betty shouts to the camera. "She's got the face to flirt, but not the spine to admit it! Give me ideas, chat—I'll teach her some respect." Those psychos destroyed everything. My jewelry, my designer clothes, my bags… they didn't spare a thing. Not even the ring my parents left me. Then, with the viewers egging her on, Betty crossed the line. She had her girls strip me bare on stream. Her chat was going wild, donations pouring in—until my brother saw it. When Lucas kicked in the door to pull me out, I looked at him through eyes that burned. "Dump the girlfriend," I told him. "Or you can forget about ever being the Don."

While visiting a property development with my fiancé to buy our first home, I ran into a two-faced real estate agent.   She showered my fiancé with compliments, praising him for being young and successful enough to afford a Rolls-Royce.   Then, she suggested I was a fake socialite with a knockoff designer bag, implying that I was just using my charms to snag a free house.   When she found out the property was meant to be a marital home, her voice grew loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.   “I just think the sugar daddy who bought you those two properties last time treated you pretty well!” “Oh, wait. Miss Gwen, don’t you have several sugar daddies? Do they all know about each other?”   I chuckled. What she didn’t know was that my “sugar daddies” were my godfathers and I really was a socialite.   The kicker, though, was that my so-called wealthy fiancé wasn’t rich at all. In fact, he was just a scholarship student I had been financially supporting!