Encanto Camilo Door

On the day my boyfriend and I moved into our new home, his ex-girlfriend gave us a mysterious gift. The moment I opened the front door, a swarm of hornets came flying out. I screamed in fright as I felt seven or eight stings from them. His ex, Erica Loft, jumped out from behind the door with a giggle. She shouted, "Surprise! "I went up the mountains to visit a master craftsman. I wanted to get you this specially brewed hornet wine, and I even brought back a hornet's nest for you to decorate your new house with! "Isn't this a great gift?" Erica made a face at us. She was gleeful at the messy predicament I was in. My boyfriend, Joe Fulham, clenched his teeth. He rushed forward to grab Erica by the wrist as he shouted angrily at her. "Are you crazy? Don't you know that hornets are venomous?! Is this really a surprise, or are you trying to hurt us?" I listened to another one of their huge arguments from behind the door, feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. As I felt the stinging pain in my arm, I knew this wedding was about to fall through.

Three years into our marriage, Rylan Shaw brings another woman home. "Maeve, you should learn from the younger ladies. Stop acting like a block of wood all the time." With a calm resolve, I shatter our wedding photo and hand him the divorce papers I've long prepared. "Let's get divorced, Rylan. I'll step aside for her," I declare. His friends insist that without him, I'll starve on the streets. Rylan believes the same. "Once she's suffered enough out there, she'll realize how lucky she was to be Mrs. Shaw." But a week passes, then a month—and I never return. That's when Rylan begins to grow uneasy. Panic and restless nights consume him. One evening, drunk and desperate, he pounds on the door of my new apartment. "Maeve, if it's money you want, I'll give it all to you…" The door swings open to reveal an unfamiliar man—bare-chested, pajama pants hanging low, fresh scratches streaking his abdomen. Jonah Archer arches a brow, dissatisfaction flickering in his eyes as he asks, "Mr. Shaw, what madness brings you to my wife's door in the middle of the night?"

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

(Completed) It was supposed to be a normal visit to her Grandmother for the weekend ... Mia was supposed to spend a couple days in peace and quite with her granny until her best friend decided to tag along... The visit was going well and everything was set up right when suddenly it all turned into a nightmare.. A nightmare that she and Kevin would never forget for as long as they both lived... All it took was ONE JOKE ... ONE PRANK .... And their lives and fates were tangled together turing everything upside down beyond their imagination and limits, exposing their true selves along the way... ****Out of sudden Kevin came to my side and lifted me up on his shoulders with my head back and ran towards the attic in one swift move. I was shocked that I couldn't say or respond. His actions froze my mind instantly. I never thought he would do that. Then he put me down right in front of the attic door and pushes it open with his hands. CRREEEEEAAAAAAAAKKK The sound of the door opening gave me an instant shiver, my breathing stopped and I almost fainted. It felt like he was opening the door to my grave while i was still alive and threw me inside. I held onto Kevin's arms for support and he dragged me into the dark room as he stepped in ****

"Pick up…. pick up… please" When the call did not get through, I burst into tears. The killer was now banging the door violently. “Inspector Kenneth speaking” Uncle Ken’s voice came through and right at the same the killer made a whole in the door by his continuous banging. "Uncle Ken, he's here, he is going to kill me…." I stated this in a panicked, horrified tone. “Zara, darling, we were going to have some fun why did you called the police?” he said in a cold tone bringing out his silvery knife. A shudder rushed down the spine. However, I maintained my composure. "You are over now," I said, trying to mask my terror. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, not yet…." He answered and raced towards me. What happens next???

Alpha Xavier king is an alpha on a path to vengeance. All that drives him is his thirst for the blood of those who brutally murdered his mate and child. With nothing but vengeance on his mind and a broken heart he has no love to give and the only mate he thinks about or loves is the one that one that was brutally taken away from him. On a random Tuesday night a package is spotted on the front door of the pack house. No one knows how the package got there and who placed it there aside for the fact that it is addressed to the alpha. Inside the big black bag is a woman...a naked seemingly human girl with absolutely no memory of who she is and how she got in the bag. Aside her naked body covered with tatoos something else catches the alphas attention...she is the Alpha's second chance mate delivered right to his door step.

It is the night before our wedding when my fiancee, Whitney Sullivan, reunites with her childhood sweetheart, Steven Foster, a mercenary who has been missing for five years. He is brought to our doorstep by his teammates, bloodied and barely clinging to life after being poisoned with a deadly aphrodisiac on a mission. Whitney, usually so aloof and controlled, immediately breaks down. She locks the door, defying my efforts to stop her, and stays with Steven all night long. I choose to stay outside the door, never closing my eyes. I confront her the following morning with a torrent of accusations, only for her to stand in front of Steven protectively and say shamelessly, "I couldn't just stand by and watch Steven die. Isn't it just my virginity? What's the harm in letting loose the night before the wedding?" In that instant, all my affection for her is utterly destroyed.

One of my classmates, Liam, called me one day. His mom was planning to get a divorce, and he wanted me to talk to her.   The first time I saw Liam’s mom, I was captivated by her unique charm as a mature woman. From then on, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.   One day, I decided to invite Liam for a hike. He wasn’t home, but there were faint moans coming from inside the room. I pushed the door open to find Claire lying on a red blanket. Her legs were entwined, and she moved in a way that was impossible to ignore.   Who knew Liam’s mom would be so good at it? Quietly, I moved further into the room. Without a word, she walked over and shut the bedroom door behind me. 

My husband Norman had always hated how his childhood friend Julia clung to him no matter the occasion. He even cut her off for my sake. One morning, I woke up and realized that I had mysteriously swapped bodies with Julia. I wanted to find my husband and figure out what to do, fearing he'd turn me away because of Julia's appearance. I cooked up a hundred explanations in my head until I finally arrived at our home. When Norman opened the door and saw me, he frowned and quickly shut the door, pushing me away. Just as I was about to explain that I wasn't Julia, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "What are you doing here? Can't stand being apart from me for even two days, huh?"

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.