Daniel Radcliffe Instagram Novels & Stories

Based on the circumstances, she was trapped with no way out. Suddenly, Henry, who was browsing Reddit, spoke up in surprise, "Look at this Reddit post. Someone wrote a long post." The one who wrote the post was Daniel. "I already have a fiancée, and we're getting married this June. I see Yaslyn as my little sister that I look after, which was my teacher's request. There's no need to make a fuss about this. I hope everyone can restrain themselves and stop harassing this young girl." Having won many accolades abroad, Daniel was quite well-known. Naturally, no one dared to refute his words.

Kylie sings out and Daniel slaps a hand over her mouth. “That’s a good photo Dan” Tara says and I get up looking at his phone. “It is. Send me it?” I say smiling and he nods sending it to me. ‘Dan Attachment: 2 images’ Pops up on My phone and I look up to see Daniel smiling. “What are you smiling about?” I ask and he shakes his head. “Cute contact name and background” He winks and walks off. “So, when are you going to tell us?” Jim says and I look at him confused.

And he already had a guess. Sophia Blake. But before he could say anything else— Daniel suddenly knocked on the door and entered quickly. "Sir." Alexander looked at him. "What happened?" Daniel held his phone out. "You should see this." Alexander took the phone. A news video was playing. The headline immediately caught his attention. “Famous businessman Daniel Harper spotted alive in London.” Alexander’s eyes froze. Emily noticed his expression. "What is it?" Alexander slowly turned the phone toward her. Emily looked at the screen.

I exhaled shakily, my pulse hammering against my throat. Adrian Cavendish. Daniel’s best friend. A man I knew only by reputation—billionaire, ruthless businessman, someone who could make or break people with a single decision. We had never truly spoken, not even at the parties where our paths briefly crossed. Not even at Daniel’s funeral. He had offered his condolences, a curt nod, nothing more. So why now? And why did it feel like whatever he had to say would change everything? I gripped the phone so hard it should have cracked.

He flipped her over and took her from behind, spanking her ass and pulling her hair until he finally filled her with a massive load. Afterwards, they drank wine in bed and talked. Ryan admitted Daniel had confided in him about the list months before his death. “He wanted you to be free,” Ryan said, stroking her thigh. “He knew you had a wild side he couldn’t fully satisfy.” That conversation unlocked something even darker in Claire. --- For the ninth name, she went big. **Julian Black** — a dominant club owner Daniel had known through mutual friends. Julian was tall, tattooed, commanding, and ran an exclusive underground sex club.

"He is actively waiting for our marriage to fail. He thinks I'm down, so he's trying to slide into my place." "Raphael, stop," Claire said calmly. She didn't hide the phone. She didn't act defensive. She just looked at her husband. "Daniel is an architect. He works with half the commercial real estate developers in the city. Rumors fly fast in this industry." "He doesn't care about the rumors, Claire," Raphael argued, running a frustrated hand through his dark hair. "He cares about the fact that you might be vulnerable. I want to throw his phone into the river. Actually, I want to throw him into the river."

Later that night, Clara lay awake in the guest room. Her phone rested on her chest. She opened her social media without thinking. A new photo appeared. Daniel at a school event. Michael standing behind him. Not possessive. Not dramatic. Just present. The caption read: Proud of you. Nothing more. She stared at the image longer than she meant to. He wasn’t fighting publicly. He wasn’t attacking Gabriel. He wasn’t making speeches online. He was just showing up. Her sister’s earlier words echoed in her mind. “Why does his love for his son scare you?”

Rachael’s POV Daniel was mid sentence when my phone buzzed. “…so I told him if you hate your job that much, maybe it’s not the job,” he was saying lightly, stirring his coffee. “Maybe it’s the room.” “The room?” I asked. “Yeah. Some rooms shrink you. Some don’t.” My phone buzzed again in my hand. I glanced down. It was Clinton. ‘Home?’ The word sat there. Simple. Direct. Daniel noticed the shift in my expression but didn’t ask.

Evangeline smirked, sparkles twinkled beneath her eyes. ---- Daniel peeked at his watch for who know how many times. He took a sidelong glanced at his reflection, reflecting on the full-length glass of the retail store, checking his appearance again and again. His eyes inspected his brand new tailored V-neck crochet sweatshirt beneath a brown leather coat paired with skinny black pants and leather boots. Everything was brand new and designed by the royal family's designers. His black hair, which changes color to dark chocolate under the light of the sun, was combed to perfection.

That night at the café when Kyle had confronted him, grabbing him, making it clear that I was "his wife." Maybe Daniel saw Maxwell and thought it was Kyle? No, that was crazy. I was being paranoid. I clicked on Daniel's profile, and my jaw dropped. "Holy shit," I whispered to my empty bedroom. Daniel had 2.3 million followers. His bio read: "Fitness model • Content creator • Your favorite medical professional 😉 • Link below for exclusive content 💋" I scrolled through his recent posts. Professional photoshoots, workout videos, thirst trap selfies that had hundreds of thousands of likes. The comments were... enthusiastic.