Web Site Story

As a reader, we can fall in love with a Fictional Character. The words that the author use to define the physical attribute makes us readers fall in love with that character. Same as Amira Madrigal, who's deeply in love with a fictional character named Zeke Alejandro from a book that she always read, the title "Unexpected Love Story". Zeke is a bad boy and an arrogant campus prince who's written to fell in love with Krisha Fajardo, the female lead character of the story. Unfortunately, Amira hasn't read the book completely because her professor caught her reading the book while his teaching. An unknown sender gives her a link to a site where she could continue to read the next part of the story. She doesn't know that this will be the way for her to enter another world. Another dimension. To meet her Love. Zeke Alejandro, the fictional character inside the book. Could she also be the main character of the story she accidentally went into? Or would be the antagonist to the main character that she always imagined to be her? How will the story run?? How will the story end??

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."

As a dive engineer, I need to go down into the shaft to retrieve a drill bit in order to speed up construction on the 800-million-dollar construction project before Independence Day. Little do I know that I've barely made my way down the shaft when I realize I don't have enough oxygen to last the journey. Amid my panic, I completely lose my sense of direction. So, I dig out my wireless radio in an attempt to communicate with my fiancee, Viola Jenkins. But all I hear is her laughter over the radio. "Aren't you all high and mighty, Elden? I'd like to see how long you can last underwater without oxygen!" Her first love, Ron Carey, adds, "Just sit back and watch the show, Viola! He'll definitely beg you to open the manhole cover for him when the time comes!" That's when I realize Viola and Ron have allied together to kill me. Not only have they closed the manhole cover, but they've also cut off my life-saving oxygen supply. After ensuring that the manhole cover cannot be moved at all, I begin crying for help weakly into the radio. "Hurry… Open the cover for me… I'm running out of oxygen…" Viola's contemptuous voice drifts from the radio. "It's only been five minutes. Why are you playing the pity card already? This is Ron's first time in a construction site, so he's inhaling some oxygen from the canister because he's already lacking in oxygen. You can wait for a while. "If you have the time to moan about the lack of oxygen, you might as well use it to retrieve the drill bit. Stop dilly-dallying around, Elden! You seriously think I'll keep you around if you don't pull your weight around here?" With gnashed teeth, I cover 65 feet downward in the shaft. With the last bit of oxygen in my lungs, I place my hands on the drill bit that's stuck in the deepest part of the shaft that can determine whether or not the 800-million-dollar construction project will be a hit or miss. I'd like to see if Viola and Ron will be able to reap the benefits from this project just by killing me off in the shaft!

"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?"

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”

ความถูกต้องกับความรักมักสวนทางกันเสมอ... ในเมื่อเลือกใครไม่ได้ ก็รักมันไปทั้งสองคนนั่นแหละ!

“ไคล์อยู่มั้ย?” “นายอยู่ด้านในครับ แต่ว่า….” “ขอบใจนะ” หรรษาเดินตัวปลิวเข้าไปด้านในคลับหรู ก่อนเปิดประตูห้องVVIPเข้าไป เจอปาร์ตี้ของชายหญิงหลายคู่ ก่อนขาเรียวจะเดินตรงคว้าแก้วเหล้าเต็มแก้วแล้วหยุดที่หน้าชายหนุ่มนัยตาเย็นชา ซ่า!!!! แก้วเหล้าทั้งแก้วราดลงบนศรีษะของหญิงสาวที่กำลังนั่งคลอเคลียร์ชายหนุ่มตรงหน้าจนหญิงสาวคนนั้นกรีดร้องออกมา “กรี๊ดดดดดด” “สาระแน!! ไสหัวออกไปห่างๆ!” หรรษาเอ่ย “หรรษา!! เธอทำอะไร” ไคล์เอ่ย “มือมันลั่น” หรรษาเอ่ย “มานี่!” ชายหนุ่มลุกขึ้นก่อนลากแขนหญิงสาวออกจากห้องทันทีด้วยใบหน้าแสนน่ากลัว “ไคล์ หรรษาเจ็บนะ ปล่อยได้แล้ว” “เธอจะก่อเรื่องอีกนายมั้ย!” ไคล์เอ่ย “ใครใช้ให้นังนั่นมากอดนายก่อนละ” “เดี๋ยว! เราไม่ได้เป็นอะไรกัน เธอเลิกรังควานผู้หญิงทุกคนรอบตัวฉันได้แล้ว!” ไคล์เอ่ย “งั้นก็เป็นอะไรกันซะซิ แค่นั้นก็จบ”หรรษาเอ่ย หรรษา แฝดน้องของกะตัญ จากเรื่อง กลรักร้าย เจ้านายมาเฟีย

“ 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”