Hum Tum And Them Novelas e Histórias

At our daughter’s three-month milestone party, my husband Garrett’s so-called "best friend" publicly humiliated me. “Hey, Vivian. I heard you're a little loose down there after popping out the kid.” "If it's that bad, you better get some tightening surgery quick—don't wanna mess up your marriage vibes!" Garrett shot her a playful glare and snapped, "Knock it off, Scarlett! You can't just say whatever pops into your head." Then he turned to me with a breezy shrug. "She's just like that—total tomboy. We grew up together; she means no harm." Scarlett shook her half-exposed breast and pouted, "Oh, come on, don't take it personally, Vivian. Honestly, I'm kind of jealous of you." "See, my problem is the opposite. I'm way too tight—hurts like hell during my period. No clue who's gonna get lucky with this later." Then she cut her eyes toward Garrett with a playful wink. " Oh right, you've tried it before, haven't you?" The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes drifted toward me, barely concealing their curiosity. I smiled, set down my wine glass, and looked at Scarlett with fake concern. "That's strange. I don't remember making it that tight when I did your surgery."

Savannah was an adorable college student. To revenge her ex-boyfriend, Savannah was boldly intended to kiss a "handsome enough" man and take a video to piss her ex off. However, she chose Callan, the most eligible bachelor in the world. Out of Savannah's prediction, she was teased that she had no idea what a real kiss was. Then the man even taught her in person. In a great panic, Savannah ran away. Savannah left a deep impression on Callan. However, he never thought he would meet Savannah so soon, especially, at the... male toilet!

George caught Sigrid's boyfriend sleeping with his fiancee. To punish his fiancee, George said that Sigrid is going to be his bride, or her family would go bankrupt! Sigrid had no choice but to say, yes. What's worse, it's just a contract marriage! But she didn't want this kind of fake love at all. Though she tried to get rid of him, she gradually discovered his charm and tenderness. Day by day, she got his endless love, and she became the apple of his eye. Maybe it would be fine to stay by his side. She thought so. But all of the sweetness ended on that day...she found the secret of their contract marriage...

"Miss Hudson, we have prepared a corpse identical to you, just as you requested. It will be delivered to your wedding with Mr. Warhol in ten days." Hearing the voice on the other end of the line, Violet Hudson felt a small knot of tension unwind inside her. "Alright. Thank you." "You're welcome. This is our job. Please rest assured—no one will ever suspect a thing." With that guarantee, she exhaled, the weight on her chest easing just a little. After confirming the final details once more, she ended the call and pushed open the door to the private room. The noise inside had been a constant hum, a mix of voices overlapping, but the moment she stepped in, silence fell like a curtain.

When my parents call to tell me they are taking me to my childhood friend, Oliver Holland's house to meet his blind date, he is still asleep beside me. I think they are joking and whisper, "Oliver, they said they've found you someone to date." He gives a lazy hum and pulls me into his arms. "Gerry, help me pick out something to wear later. And fix my hair, too." When I freeze, Oliver opens his eyes and lets out a short, mocking laugh. "What's wrong with you? We're just sleeping together. You don't actually think I'm going to marry you, do you?"

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

How rich can a person be? My wife is incredibly rich. People call her "The Queen of Cloudridge" because nearly half the city's properties are owned by her. We've been married for five years, and every time she goes out to meet her first love, she transfers a property to my name. By the time I have 99 homes in my name, she suddenly notices that something has changed. I no longer cry, beg, or ask her to stay. I simply choose the finest mansion in all of Cloudridge, bring the property deed with me, and wait for her to sign it. She signs the papers, and for the first time, she softens. "When I get back, let's go watch the fireworks together." I quietly tuck the agreement away and hum in response. But I never tell her what she's really signed this time. It's not a property deed. It's our divorce agreement.

Clara Sterling, the richest woman in the city, successfully got a divorce and the custody over her daughter. I married her right away. Five years into our marriage, I've already quit my job and focused on becoming a great father and husband at home. Everything changes when Clara's ex-husband, William Sawyer, returns to the country abruptly. That night, my stepdaughter, Sarah Sterling, moves my things from Clara's room to a guest room. "You're my stepdad, so you can't sleep with my mommy. I can't make Daddy sad. You should leave our home!" The maids make fun of me. Meanwhile, Clara raises an eyebrow at me. "It's completely normal for Sarah to take her biological father's side. Don't take her words to heart. You're my husband now, anyway." I just hum in response as I pack up my luggage silently. Clara tries to climb into my bed late at night, only for me to turn her away. "Our marriage contract will come to an end in two days. Once the time comes, let's get a divorce."

"Some things are meant to be ruined, Stranger. I'd like to ruin your innocence"..... Becca is a "Good Girl" with a clear plan: finish her Home Science degree, keep her head down, and live by the Word. Her life is a collection of modest skirts, silent prayers, and the steady hum of her sewing machine. But when Josh—the untouchable "King of NUAT"—stumbles into her textile lab bleeding and hunted, Becca’s carefully stitched world begins to unravel. Josh is ambitious, dangerous, and hiding a secret that could burn the entire campus to the ground. He didn’t mean to drag the quiet "Church Girl" into his war, but after one desperate, stolen kiss in a dark closet, the damage is done. To the campus, she’s his new obsession. To his enemies, she’s the perfect leverage. Now, Becca is no longer a ghost in the halls. She’s a target. With a sinister voice from the shadows claiming that "Stitches don't hide secrets," Becca must decide if she can trust the man who used her to survive—or if the boy she saved is the one who will ultimately destroy her. In a jungle like NUAT, even the purest soul can get caught in the thorns.

prologue She turned towards him. With a seductive look on her face. She came close to him. Wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her with all his myth. He felt like he got his world in her. " you know what, once in these streets we crossed each other's path, and now in these vary streets it's gonna end," she said with a blank look. " I love you, Ishani! " Mujhse Pyaar tum Karte Ho par tumhari Zindagi ki zaroorat main banugi, Tumhe pata bhi nhi chalega kab tumhare dil, jaan mei sirf Mera naam hoga' she thought in her mind (you love me, and I'll become the need of your life, you would not even know when I'll become your heart, life... You'll only have my name in your heart) " you love me? " she asked. He nodded with a smile " then jump from here or I will," she said with seriousness in her words. Second scene " you thought I love you," she said with a laugh. " with an idiot like you... Babe, sorry but better luck next time " she said waving her hand in the air. Suddenly she collapsed with a hard chest. He looked into her eyes .he eyes show hurt and betrayal. " if you didn't want me... If you never loved... Then why? " he said with hurt in his words. His arms wrapped around her in a painful manner. " if was all just. A daring babe... Just a dare " she said in a chocked voice. She had a hard time dealing with her feelings. He left her and went away. Suddenly she lost her balance and collapsed on the floor. " I love you Vansh," she said to herself and out loud.