Novel & Cerita How It Should Have Ended Harry Potter

"I am Victoria Katherine Mera! I am the villainess of this story, you should hate me!" After facing death, Ciara was reincarnated to her favorite romance novel entitled, 'Roses & Thorns'. But she didn't expect to be reincarnated as Victoria Mera, the main antagonist of the story who is destined to be dead at the hands of Nixon (the male lead). Afraid of facing another death, she did her best to live her life to the fullest and avoid death as much as possible.

I came across a trending post asking people to share the person they had failed. One of the comments caught my attention. 'It has to be my best friend. In my defense, her husband is exactly my type. From head to toe, he suits my taste perfectly. I fell for him at first sight when she introduced us. 'During the graduation party, I got them drunk and slept with him. Damn, she's a lucky b*tch to have him. Later, I told her I went abroad, but actually, I was preparing to give birth to my baby in another city. 'He always comes to visit us. We are a happy family of three. Technically, I'm not a homewrecker. We already have a real marriage certificate. All we're missing is the wedding. 'I think fighting for true love is something to be admired. A word of encouragement: don't let the spouse of the person you love be the reason you give up.' Attached below the comment was a photo of a man's and woman's fingers intertwined. I recognized the man immediately. It was my husband, Luke Minton. I knew from the small scar on his wrist.

The day our daughter had a high fever, Matt was at a parent-teacher meeting for his first love’s son. I called him, only for her to pick up. Through sobs, she apologized, but Matt quickly grabbed the phone, his tone impatient. "She’s a single mom with a kid. What’s wrong with me looking out for them?" So, I turned to my daughter, who was quietly receiving her IV, and asked softly, "How about it, sweetheart? From now on, it’s just you and me."

On my birthday, my fiancé used his supermarket points to get me a pair of dishwashing gloves. But at an auction, he bought a five-million-dollar gem for his first love. I was mad, confronting him, but he called me a gold digger. "I've been giving you money to spend. Isn't it only right that you take care of me? This was supposed to be my final test for you. If you passed, we'd get married. You've let me down big time." I broke up with him. He turned around and proposed to his first love. Five years later, we ran into each other on a private vacation island. Alex Thompson saw me in the workers' uniform picking up trash on the beach. He mocked me on the spot. "You turned your nose up at the gloves I got you, and here you are, scavenging garbage. Now, even if you begged me, I wouldn't give you a second glance." I ignored him. My son's social studies project was to clean up the backyard with a parent. His dad had expanded the yard all the way to the beach. Cleaning it up was exhausting.

My girlfriend, Clara Sutton, had severe mysophobia. Before every intimate moment we shared, she required me to disinfect myself thoroughly in advance. She even set strict rules about how often we could kiss or sleep together, and how long it could last. Without her permission, I was not allowed to touch her. I had always believed she treated everyone this way. I even secretly felt relieved, thinking that I must have been somewhat special to her. Then came that night at the bar. During a party, her childhood friend, Ethan Ford, drew a dare in a game of truth or dare. Then, in front of everyone, he leaned in and kissed Clara. Although it was supposedly a punishment for losing, they kissed deeply for a full five minutes. Our friends laughed and jostled one another as they turned to look at me. Only then did I realize that Clara’s obsession with cleanliness had never been a universal rule. It had existed simply because she did not like me. Disheartened, I asked for a breakup. But Clara soon regretted it. With reddened eyes, she begged me not to leave.

My best friend’s father pinned me against the door and fucked me raw while his daughter stood two feet away on the other side and I came so hard I almost screamed his name. I know I shouldn’t want him. Chandler Callahan is twice my age, filthy rich, and completely off-limits. He’s the man who destroyed his own family, the man I should hate… but the second he growls “Who's Daddy's good girl?” my pussy gets soaked like it was made for him. He doesn’t just fuck me. He owns me. I used to be dry. Broken. Humiliated by every guy who tried. Now I’m dripping, desperate, and addicted to the one man who can actually make me wet. But secrets this filthy don’t stay hidden forever. And when the truth comes out, it’s going to ruin us both. So tell me… Is it my fault I have daddy issues… …or is it his for turning me into his perfect little slut?

On the fifth year of my marriage with Stefano Calderone, his older brother, Don Giovanni Calderone, sacrificed himself to protect him during an ambush. When Stefano inherited Giovanni's position as the next Don, he also inherited Giovanni's widowed wife, Camilla Bianchi. Every night, after leaving Camilla's room, he'd embrace me and say, "Alessandro, you're my actual lover. Once Camilla gets pregnant, I'll register our marriage once again and ensure that you and our son will have proper positions in the Calderone family." For the next six months, he slept with Camilla 200 times in a row. At first, he'd only spend one night with her per week. But gradually, it shifted into a regular schedule of nightly visits in her room. After their 201st coupling, the news of Camilla being pregnant gets spread throughout the villa. Soon after, news of Stefano and Camilla getting married breaks out. My son, Niccolo Calderone, grips the hem of my clothes while asking me innocently, "Mommy, didn't Daddy tell us that he'd give us a home? Why is he marrying another woman, then?" I just ruffle his hair in return. "Daddy no longer belongs to us. But it's okay, Niccolo. Mommy will take you back to our real home." Stefano will never find out that I'm not as alone as he thinks in this world. The truth is, I'm the principessa of another powerful mafia family in Sirelia. I never wanted the position of the Calderones' Donna, to begin with.

During an argument with my fiancé, he lost his temper and slapped me across the face in front of the entire family and guests. That same day, I called off the engagement and blocked him on every last platform so that he could not reach me. No one could believe it. After all, we grew up together. Everyone knew I had been in love with him since we were kids, and we were supposed to get married right after college. He just stood there, looking lost. "Why, Gia? Over a slap?" I held his gaze. "Sì. Over a slap."

After her boyfriend bailed on their wedding, my best friend broke down crying and begged my fiance to step in and save the day. Blake Keller comforted me gently. "Dawn, Noelle and I grew up together. We've been close for years—closer than family, honestly. Today is just for show. Besides, our wedding's next week anyway, so think of it as a rehearsal in advance." I felt terrible for my best friend. After struggling with myself for a long time, I finally gritted my teeth and nodded. Just like that, I watched with my own eyes as my boyfriend, who was supposed to be the best man, became my best friend's "groom." At the wedding, Blake held Noelle's hand, his eyes filled with affection. When the officiant asked whether he was willing, he answered even more firmly than he had when he proposed to me. I kept telling myself not to take it seriously, that it was just an act and I should not overthink it. That was what I believed—until after they exchanged rings. The officiant smiled and said, "You may now kiss the bride." The crowd instantly started cheering, urging them to kiss. Blushing, Noelle hurriedly reassured me. "Dawn, don't worry. We'll fake it with the camera angle." I believed her. But in the very next second, Blake lifted her chin and deeply kissed her for real in front of everyone.

Warning- Mature Audiences only!. -Strong sexual content. - rated language. Original work. Description: "Get up!." He commanded. His voice was stern and his cold blue eyes pierced into my skin. I didn't look fazed by his intimidating demeanor. "You muckerfucker blood-sucking demon." I cussed, biting down my lower lip to hinder myself from not raining more curses at him. He smirked. He glided across the room until he stood in front of me, I looked right into his eyes as he lowered down to my level. His hand gripped my chin up, his blue eyes looking deep into mine. "You won't end well if you continue to speak to me like that," I smirked. "I am not afraid of you!" He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you're afraid of death, I am death." My jaw dropped. He knows where to get me. He let go of me seeing my frightened look and looking satisfied. "But you didn't have to kill that girl for my sake. She did nothing." "Someone's going to cover up for you." He turned around and went to sit on my bed. "But I didn't kill him. There was nothing to cover up for." "Oh, dear." He said and lit his joint up. "He died." I froze. I killed someone too. I've stained my hands with blood. "Don't look too surprised and all that stunned. That's one thing you'll learn how to do and face. You've got to learn how to kill." *** Vanora Campbell's mom died leaving her with her uncaring father, she blamed her father for killing her mother and lived so carelessly thereafter. Her life turned upside down when her dad sold her to the Italian mafia boss, Zavi Covillie.