Hanging Wedgie Story

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

Someone posted a love confession to me on the college's confession wall. But then my roommate's boyfriend left a comment claiming I had slept with every guy on campus. I was furious and ready to call the police. My roommate begged me to forgive her boyfriend, promising she'd make him apologize publicly on the confession wall. But before that apology ever came, an adult video started circulating in the student group chats. Everyone was saying I was the girl in the video. The college summoned me for a meeting and suggested I take a leave of absence. When I went home, my parents refused to acknowledge me as their daughter. I lost everything. Depression consumed me, and with the endless rumors, I finally gave in to despair and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day my name first appeared on the confession wall.

After five years of marriage, Zac Saunders felt the need to protect his son with his mistress. Not only did he pressure me into terminating the pregnancy, but he also conspired with the board of directors to remove me from my position as vice president. He held Jemma Jacobs close, wearing a wicked grin."Samantha Lewis," he sneered, "since you won't obey...""...Jemma take your place from now on," he continued.I pushed his hand away, pulling Jemma in front of me. Ignoring her struggles, I firmly grabbed her hair and forced her to tilt her head back."Come on," I urged, "tell him, who do you belong to?"

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post.  This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

25 years ago, a maternity nurse secretly switched me out for her daughter. Unfortunately for her, my six-year-old brother saw this and secretly switched me back. 25 years later, the maternity nurse comes knocking with her actual daughter by her side. She accuses me, the heiress of Crawford Group, of being an impostor. The company's janitor starts insulting me and insinuates that my lipstick is a cheap imitation. Even my boyfriend humiliates me with her. "And here I thought you were the heiress of the Crawford family. You can't even compare to a hair on Pammy's head!" When the DNA test results are out, everyone is stunned. "That wretch bewitched me, Lori! Please forgive me—give me another chance!" my boyfriend cries. I look at him icily. "Another chance to do what? To clean the toilets?"

On the eve of the National Robotics Championship, I smashed my carefully designed bot to pieces and announced my withdrawal. Everyone said I was a fraud who was quitting out of fear of being exposed. Online, the netizens mocked me relentlessly. Only one person, Adrian Cross, the so-called genius of the century, spoke up in my defense, his voice dripping with false sincerity, "I believe in River Lowell’s skills. Only he deserves to be my opponent. No matter what setbacks he’s facing, I hope he comes back to the arena and proves himself." In my previous life, the robot I built was identical to his. No matter how I tried to prove he had copied me, Adrian stood before the cameras, wearing his benevolent mask, and said, "It’s fine. This robot can go to River. I can always build something even better." His fans swarmed me, tearing me apart online, and no one believed in my talent. I swallowed the humiliation and vowed to rebuild my robot from scratch. However, when I was assembling it, the Power Core in my kit exploded, shattering my skull. That same night, I was rushed into the ICU. Netizens clapped and cheered, saying I got exactly what I deserved. That night, my girlfriend, Lila Hart, signed the hospital’s DNR consent form without hesitation. Until the day I died, I never understood how Adrian had gotten my robot’s data or why Lila had joined forces with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day of the competition.

“คุณแบล็คครับ คุณเอวาทำงานอยู่ที่บาร์XXครับ” “มึงว่าไงนะ!” “กำลังเต้นรูดเสาอยู่เลยครับ” มาเฟียหนุ่มวางปืนสุดหรูที่เพิ่งได้มาเป็นสินค้าใหม่ทันทีด้วยใบหน้าที่บอกบุญไม่รับ บาร์XX เสียงเพลงอีกทึกครึกโครมแสงไฟอันน้อยนิด หญิงสาวนุ่งน้อยห่มน้อย หุ่นเพรียว ผิวเนียนจรดทั่วทั้งตัว กำลังเต้นรูดอยู่บนเสาเหล็กเงาวับกลางบาร์ด้วยท่าทางพาเอาหนุ่มๆของขึ้นไปตามๆกัน “ไม่ได้กลัวตายเลยถูกมั้ย” เสียงทุ้มต่ำของชายหนุ่มร่างสูงรูปหล่อผิวขาวใส่ชุดดำสนิททั้งตัวพรางมีแมสสีดำปิดใบหน้า หญิงสาวเหมือนค้างกลางอากาศ แต่ก็ยังคงเต้นต่อจนกระทั่งชายหนุ่มปลดแมสสีดำสนิทที่ปิดหน้าลงจนเผยใบหน้าเต็มๆ “วอนตายมากซินะ” แบล็คเอ่ยพร้อมสายตาแสนน่ากลัว “ว๊ายยยยยยย” ผลัก!!!! ทุกอย่างเกิดขึ้นเร็วมาก หญิงสาวหล่นร่วงลงมาจากเสาที่กำลังเต้นเมื่อตกใจใบหน้าของชายหนุ่มที่ยืนจังก้ามองเธอตรงหน้า

“พี่บูม จะไปไหนเหรอคะ?” “มีนัด ถามทำไม” “คือ…หนูมีไปออกค่าย สะ…สองวันคะ” “แล้วฉันจำเป็นต้องให้ไปมั้ย?” “ถ้าไม่ไป…รุ่นพี่ก็จะไม่ให้หนูผ่านกิจกรรม…ค่ะ” “แล้วแต่!” “ขอบคุณค่ะ” “เดี๋ยว! เธอจะไปไหน?” “พอดีพี่ๆที่คณะนัดให้ไปคุยงานค่ะ” “ที่ไหน??” “XX PUBค่ะ” “ว่าไงนะ!” “พี่บูม!!! อื้อออ” ชายหนุ่มรั้งร่างเล็กเข้าไปกดจูบ ก่อนจะขบเม้มลงบนซอกคอเธอจนเกิดรอยแดงราวกับว่าทำความเป็นเจ้าของเธอแบบนั้น “จะได้รู้ตัวไว้ว่าเธอเป็นของฉัน!”

เมื่อความรักอยู่ในความลับ และความลับก็ซ่อนอยู่ในความรัก หัวใจของเรื่องนี้จะจบที่ตรงไหน