Did Dumbledore Know He Was Going To Die

I supported Ethan Mitchell and loved him for eight whole years. I thought I concealed my feelings well, but little did I know that after Ethan became a business magnate, the first thing he did was send me to a ladies’ finishing academy. He looked at me coldly, his arms wrapped around his fiancée. "When you've rid yourself of those filthy thoughts, then you can come out." A year later, I finally forgot him completely. However, Ethan came to regret everything.

Six years ago, Isla Winters was nobody, a shy, invisible wife unloved by the billionaire who married her out of obligation. Jaxon Romano destroyed her with his cruelty, threw her away while she carried his twins, and never looked back. Now, Dr. Isla Vale is everyone, a tech CEO and a genius. When she walks into Jaxon's failing company as his last hope for salvation, he doesn't recognize the broken girl he once called wife. But Isla recognizes him. And she's not here to save him. She's here to destroy him. What Jaxon doesn't know: the brilliant woman dismantling his empire is the ghost of his biggest mistake. What Isla doesn't know: revenge and love are two sides of the same burning coin. And some fires consume everything in their path, including the people who lit the match. In a battle of wills where the stakes are a billion-dollar empire, two hidden children, and a second chance neither of them deserves, only one question matters: Can you forgive the unforgivable? Or does some betrayal cut too deep to heal?

Ich heiratete Don Matteo im Geheimen. Jedes Mal, wenn er seine Jugendliebe fickte, versprach er mir eine richtige Hochzeit – vor den Fünf Familien. Fünf Jahre lang gab Matteo mir neunundneunzig Versprechen. Und neunundneunzig Mal ließ er mich vor dem Altar stehen. Beim ersten Mal starb Cecilias preisgekrönte Ausstellungskatze. Um sie zu trösten, verschob er die Hochzeit um drei Monate. Ich stand allein am Altar, die Augen gerötet, und versuchte, die Familienältesten zu beruhigen. Beim zweiten Mal bekam Cecilia in einem Casino einen Wutanfall und zerschlug eine antike Vase im Wert von hundert Millionen Dollar. Er leitete den Privatjet, der für unsere Hochzeit vorgesehen war, um und flog noch in derselben Nacht los, um ihr Chaos zu beseitigen. Und jedes Mal, kurz vor unserer Hochzeit, hatte seine Jugendliebe irgendeinen Notfall. Ich weinte. Ich schrie. Ich hielt ihm sogar eine Waffe an den Kopf. Aber Matteo drückte mich einfach gegen die Wand und brachte mich mit einem kalten, harten Kuss zum Schweigen. „Sie ist nur zum Ficken da. Du bist Frau Falcone. Benimm dich gefälligst.“ Nach dem neunundneunzigsten Mal hatte ich endgültig genug. Ich schob die Papiere über den Tisch. Die Tinte war noch feucht, das Siegel der Familie Falcone prangte am unteren Rand. „Unsere Ehe, unser Bündnis – es ist vorbei.“

A doomsday blizzard hit just before Christmas. The zombie virus exploded. Our fortress was a top-tier ski resort. Now, it was about to fall. My husband, Ethan, was a former Navy SEAL. Our head of security. He swore his defense system was foolproof. The blizzard knocked out the power. But he’d sent all the backup generator fuel to the summit. Just to light up a Christmas tree for Chloe. He even had a few guards up there with them, throwing a party. In my last life, I fought him. I herded everyone into the last bunker. But Chloe whined. A crowded Christmas was boring, she said. She stormed out of the safe room and ran right into the jaws of the horde. Ethan carved a path through the horde to secure the walls. Then he sat in silence, cradling Chloe’s bones. He pretended he wanted to start over with me. He let me get pregnant with his child. The day I gave birth, he knocked me unconscious and dumped me into a nearby zombie nest. He always rescued me just before I died. He’d inject me with a serum that kept me from turning. Nineteen times, he threw me to the zombies. I died in agony as they tore the flesh from my bones. "If you hadn't sabotaged my defenses," he’d hissed, "if you hadn't crashed our party and led the horde right to us, Chloe would still be alive!" I opened my eyes. I was back. Christmas Eve.

The day before we are supposed to go abroad to get our marriage registered, George Anderson slips a five-carat diamond ring onto my ring finger. "Geri, once you wear this, you'll be Mrs. Anderson for the rest of your life." Before I even have time to feel moved, his tone suddenly shifts. "But I've already canceled tomorrow's flight and asked for a refund. Let's put off the registration for now." He slowly turns the rosary beads on his wrist, speaking as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Mia's depression has relapsed. She's threatening to jump off a building. The only thing that can calm her down is getting a marriage certificate with her. "I have to go register my marriage with her right now. If she finds out I married you abroad, she'll lose her mind." I freeze and stare at him in disbelief. However, he ruffles my hair with eyes full of indulgence and helplessness. "Be good. It's just a piece of paper. Once her condition is stable, we'll have our wedding. If you really want to go to Frosh Isle, just join a tour group yourself." I watch as his figure retreat in a hurry and touch my lower abdomen. Then, I tear the prenatal checkup report for the twins in my bag into pieces. Next, I make the call for my final confirmation of starting the overseas study program. I no longer intend to see the aurora in Frost Isle with George.

She married him knowing one thing clearly: love was never part of the agreement. Their marriage was built on terms, not promises. A shared home. A shared bed. A public image to maintain. Nothing more. He was distant, controlled, and never cruel — but never warm either. To him, she was a wife in name, a solution to a problem, a role that needed to be filled. What neither of them expected was how silence could become dangerous. How intimacy without love could still leave marks. How wanting someone could come long before admitting it. As the line between obligation and desire begins to blur, she must decide how long she can stay where she isn’t truly chosen — and he must face the truth he never planned for. Because sometimes, the most dangerous thing isn’t loving someone too much… It’s realizing you never meant to love them at all.

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

His sickness grew worst as his health deteriorated. Han Manuel knew he wasn't going to live much longer and after much denial, he decided to accept his horrid fate. But he found love in the weirdest of girls but prettiest of them all. She gave him hope and a thousand and one reasons to live again. A story of two hearts from two different worlds, joined together by love and destiny....

On the day I was supposed to marry Cyrus Lloyd, his crush returned from abroad. She held a notice which said she did not have long to live and smiled sadly. “Cyrus, I thought you’d let me wear a wedding dress one last time.” To grant her wish, Cyrus gave her my wedding dress. He even made her as the bride instead of me. He locked me inside the dressing room. Through the door, he said in annoyance, “We still have a future together. What’s wrong with letting her have this?” Later, a rich guy who secretly had a crush on me proposed to me. With teary eyes, Cyrus begged, “Do you really not care about me anymore because of him?” I took a step back. “We don’t have a future anymore. Why should I care about you?”

Hiding your fantasies is hard, especially when your best friend features in every one. I'm the good, innocent girl with a guilty obsession for erotic books. And the man who fuels all those fantasies? My best friend. Those veiny hands set my thighs on fire, and his deep voice twists my insides with desire. But he never knew. And I could never tell him– not when he flirts with everyone and only sees me as his baby sister. Until one reckless night of drinks and games lands me in his bed. Now I’m not sure I ever want to leave. But best friends shouldn't touch you like this. Best friends shouldn't make you squirt this good. But when a sudden arranged marriage threatens to tear us apart, our secret is exposed in a blaze of scandal, turning stolen moments into a bitter need for revenge. So how do I explain this to my parents? Since they still think I'm a virgin?