Dumbledore Asked Calmly Novels & Stories

I was the son of the wealthiest man in Capital City, but I had never enjoyed the flattery and fake smiles that came with that title. All I had ever wanted was a normal life. Now that I was pushing twenty-eight and still single, my mom finally lost her patience. She gave me an ultimatum: go on a blind date or she’d disown me. On my way to the date, I passed by a luxury boutique and spotted a watch that immediately caught my eye. I was just about to pay for it when, out of nowhere, a man barged in from behind and slapped a black card down on the counter. “I’ll take this watch. Wrap it up for me,” he said. I stayed calm and said politely, “Sir, I saw this watch first.” However, he just scoffed and snapped back, full of arrogance, “A broke nobody like you can look but not afford it. Get lost. I’m the assistant to Ms. Jackson, the CEO of Jackson Group. In this city, if I want something, no one will fight me for it.” Ms. Jackson? Isn’t that the exact woman I was supposed to be meeting for the blind date? Without another word, I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. “Selena,” I said calmly, “do you know your assistant is out here throwing your name around to bully people?”

I've worked with my wife, Naomi Prescott, for seven long years. Yet, she refuses to make my identity public in the company. Naomi claims that she's worried that the entire company might think of me as a man who relies on his partner. Believing her excuse, I stick to myself and keep a low profile all this time. But on the day my project team secures a ten-million-dollar business deal, Naomi is quick to make me give the credit to her childhood friend, Matthias Crowell. When faced with my questions, Naomi retorts in a matter-of-fact tone, "Matt is new to the company. Can't a veteran employee like you take care of him at work?" I'm furious, to say the least. "What if I say no?" Naomi throws a resignation letter at my face. "Well then, you can pack up and get lost, you pathetic loser!" I pack my belongings calmly and leave the company afterward. Three days later, Naomi's company is on the brink of bankruptcy. She sobs loudly as she begs me to return with her. I produce a business card and give it to her. "Sorry, but I prefer being the boss of my own company. It so happens that my company still needs a janitor. I suppose I can reserve that position for you, seeing as we used to be married and all."

Within 30 days, Niccolò Romano and I registered for divorce 18 times. The first time, Niccolò's adopted sister stole my research results, but he hired a lawyer to fight for her. Afterwards, he held me and coaxed, "If something happens to Lia, no one will dare to hire her in the future. I'm just helping her." The second time, while my plane was in distress, he was traveling around the world with Lia. His tone was helpless: "Lia has depended on me since she was little. I only look after her like a younger sister." The last time, Lia was pregnant with a child no one would claim, and he took responsibility for it. Faced with my accusation, he just sighed, a bit tired: "Lia's career is just starting to take off. If someone blackmails her with the child, her life will be ruined." "You're a woman too. Can't you understand?" This time, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I calmly signed my name on the divorce agreement that he had signed in a fit of pique some time ago. Then I called my professor: "I've thought it over. I'm willing to go with you to Iceland to do research."

“Is Batman my daddy?” my son Jackson pipes up from the back seat. Of course not! But telling him that his father is Asher Giordano, leader of New York’s deadliest mafia empire is out of the question. He found us anyway. “What have you done with Jackson?” I demand. “My son?” Asher asks calmly, looking around my small apartment disdainfully. “The one you’ve been hiding from me and forcing to live in this…pigeonhole?” Our son, not yours. “You’re the one who left me at the alter without as much as a ‘see you later’. If you left me a forwarding address to contact you at, I must have missed it.” Asher regards me coldly. I don’t know this man. The boy I fell in love with was warm, giving and open. This man in front of me is frostier than the arctic with his glacial eyes. “I know you know who I am and what I’m capable of, so don’t try anything stupid, Emmeline. There’s nowhere you can run where I can’t find you.” “Gosh, Asher, that’s like a line straight out of a movie. Have you been practicing delivering it in front of a mirror?”

“You know what you have to do,” Blake said, his eyes bearing hatred into Cassandra, “You don’t like me.” “No,” Cassandra answered, she had been rehearsing how to sound nice while she rejected his proposal but it was impossible. “What?” He asked surprised “I said no, I am sorry, I can’t do that.” She muttered. “You don’t have any idea what you are signing up for, do you?” He asked, both his hands balled into fists on the table, while she watched him silently. “How much did my grandfather pay you?” He asked again and then she looked away from his magnetic gaze, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I told Mr. McKnight that I would marry you. I don’t think anything would change my mind.” She feigned confidence, holding onto her own hands to stop them from trembling. “We can just try to get along.” “Get along? What was I expecting from a gold-digger?” he asked with deep seething frustration. “You all are the same.” I wanted to ask what he meant by that but I couldn’t. “This wouldn’t be easy I assure you, princess, there would be a price to pay, a fucking expensive one.” He gets up and puts on his cap. “See you later, dear wife.” Unable to say a word she watched him storm away, her heart hammering painfully at his threat. Cassandra’s life took a total turn when her uncle forced her to get married to his partner’s grandson. Even though she was reluctant at first but then she didn’t have a choice but to agree, if there was a way she could escape her cousin, Lance. She would gladly marry even the devil because what has she got to lose?

At a dinner party, my genius painter of a husband, Henry Shepherd, used his hands, hands insured for millions, to shell crabs for his young assistant, Tamara Lee. This was all to coax her into eating a few bites when she claimed she had no appetite. Meanwhile, I drank myself into a bloody mess, trying to secure investments for him. When I asked him to hand me some antacids, he refused without even looking up. “These hands are for painting. Use your own.” For ten years, he couldn’t even be bothered to change the way he treated me. That night, as I sobered up in the cold wind, I asked my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Henry, in this vast, chaotic world, our paths end here," I said inwardly

I had taken leave from the sealed research institute where I'd been confined for six years, just so I could attend my daughter's kindergarten graduation. The moment I stepped through the gates, I froze. A woman holding a little boy by the hand was shoving my daughter, Amy, straight into the gutter. She slapped Amy across the face, then sneered for everyone to hear, spitting venom as she called my little girl a filthy wretch. Drenched in filthy water, Amy dropped to her knees before the woman, trembling in humiliation. Rage burned through me. I stormed forward and slapped the woman across the face. But instead of shame, she jabbed a finger at my nose and shouted, "Do you even know who I am? To offend me is to offend the entire Grant family!" Tears welled in Amy's eyes as she tugged at my sleeve, pleading in a choked voice, "Please leave… she's my dad's nanny. My dad will punish you if you hurt her." The woman planted herself in front of me, her arrogance towering. "The Grant family rules this city. You think you can run from us?" For a brief moment, I stood stunned, then calmly pulled out my phone and dialed my husband. "Your nanny says you run Bexley City. Well, I think that's about to change."

In the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, a sudden power outage occurred. As the doctor on night duty, I remained calm and didn't panic, nor did I call for help. I calmly waited as the temperatures of the incubators where the babies lay slowly dropped... In my previous life, when the pediatric department lost power, I immediately switched to the backup power sources to ensure the children's safety. After doing everything I was supposed to do, I sat down to take a breather and took a sip of water. Suddenly, my coworkers rushed in, waking me up. "Dr. Luther, you're a healthcare staff, how could you kill those children?!" "You froze them to death! How vicious! You'll pay for this!" Only then did I realize that all the children had died, without exception. The police took me away. They said I was the only one in the room and they found my fingerprints on the thermostat. My son then produced a video to assist in the investigation. "She often complained about the patients being a bother and hoped they would all die." Enraged family members cornered me in an alley and tortured me for ten hours until I died. But until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the children could have frozen to death in a thermostatically-controlled environment. And why did my own son provide a fake video to frame me? Suddenly, I jolted awake. I found myself waking up on the day of the power outage.

My older brother, Ethan Earnhart, was the Alpha of the Shadow Pack. Right now, he was slicing my chest open with a silver surgical blade. Beside him, my adopted sister, Sara, had tear-filled eyes. "Elina went as far as faking her own death just to escape the loan sharks. She even used the body of a disfigured rogue." Ethan's gaze was filled with disgust. He pointed at the bruises covering my body, marks left when I was alive, and explained calmly to the young healer beside him. "Look. This is what happens to a traitor who betrays the pack and sleeps with filthy rogues. Elina, being the liar she's always been, even found a stand-in for her little performance." My wolf soul hovered beside the operating table and watched in despair as he handled my body the way one would process prey. 'Ethan, that really is me. I was trying to retrieve something you lost. That was why they–' "Check the stomach contents," Ethan said flatly as he cut open my stomach. Unexpectedly, there was no food residue. Instead, there was a single ring. It was corroded black by stomach acid, but the emblem engraved on it was unmistakable. It was the Alpha heirloom Ethan had lost five years ago. I had swallowed it just before I died. I had to protect that secret even if I were dead. Ethan's hand trembled violently while holding the forceps. He tore into my facial flesh like a madman. "Elina?"

"Ten million." He uttered calmly like he was discussing the weather. Bella's steps slowed behind him. He continued with a nonchalant shrug. "Ten million. After six months, you'll walk away with ten million." She took a deep breath, heart pounding as she spun around to face him, speechless. Ten million wasn't just a lot. It was life-changing. Turning, he met her glare, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "All you have to do is be my wife – pretend rather." ________ Arabella Carver always has things under control but finds out she isn't as lucky when everything comes crashing down. She is betrayed by her fiance, on the brink of eviction, and with her mother's life hanging by a thread, she's desperate for help. But as she tries to get the help she needs, only one person is willing to offer and it is none other than Adrian Davidson. The first man to claim her heart only to shatter it like it meant nothing. However, there is a catch to his generosity. He needs a wife to appease his grandmother, and Arabella happens to be her ideal choice so he gives her the papers that bind them. A marriage contract. With little choice and a grudge in her heart, she signs them. Besides, what could go wrong? It is, after all, just a contract. But what happens when old wounds resurface and sparks begin to ignite?