Python Screen Scraping Library Novels & Stories

Isabella Rossi has 48 hours to come up with €300,000 or her brother Luca disappears permanently. Luca gambled with the wrong man — Alessandro De Santis, Il Capo of Milan’s most feared crime family. When Isabella storms into his club to beg for mercy, Alessandro offers her a deal instead of a bullet. One year. Live at his Lake Como estate. Be his on paper when he demands it. Follow his rules. After 365 days, the debt is erased and her brother walks free. Break the contract early, and Luca pays with blood. To Alessandro, Isabella is just a new experiment. Politicians, cops, rival bosses — they all break within days of meeting him. He’s curious how long it takes a woman with nothing left to lose. To Isabella, Alessandro is a monster in a tailored suit. Cold, controlling, and lethal. Rule #1: Don’t fall in love with me. Easy, she thinks. She hates him. But the estate isn’t a prison of iron bars. It’s gilded cages, midnight conversations in the library, scars he doesn’t explain, and a man who watches her like she’s the only threat he can’t neutralize. The more rules he makes, the more he breaks them himself. Protection turns into possession. Glances turn into touches. And the contract’s fine print becomes a countdown neither of them can escape. Because Alessandro has enemies who want his empire, and now they want her too. When Luca’s betrayal runs deeper than debt and Isabella becomes a target, Alessandro has to choose: the empire he killed to build, or the woman he swore was just collateral. 365 days to survive him. 365 days for him to ruin her. 365 days to fall in love with the last man she should ever trust.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

Selene Davies was heartbroken when Sunny Dale humiliated and dumped her on her 20th birthday. She felt that she had done everything right in their relationship, and couldn’t tell where things went wrong. After all, she was raised by her mother to be a lady; prim and proper. That night, she gave in to her wildest desires and threw herself into the warm arms of Declan Grayson, the personification of wealth and power. Selene reckoned that there was nothing wrong with letting herself loose and having a great night. However, what if her fling wasn't just a decade older than her but also turned out to be her step-uncle? Well, he was nothing but a fling, no strings attached, or so she thought. Regret was an understatement when she learned that Declan didn't only take her first, but also publicized their affair. He portrayed her as a slut who gave sexual favors for a measly screen time. Now, she has the black market drug, ecstasy in her system, and when it’s effects kick in at random times, she either gets laid quickly or kicks the bucket. Who, or better still, what would be her medicine, when she has no man in her life? *** "Oh my God! Why does my head hurt so much? And my whole body also hurts like crazy. Ouch!!! Selene suddenly spotted a full-grown man lying beside her, “Hey, who the fu*k are you? And why are you in my bed?” Declan only smiled beautifully, a coy smirk lacing his lips. "Take a look around, sweetheart. You. Are. In. My. Bed!” His deep baritone voice sounded in her ear, stirring emotions she swore never to entertain again, or just maybe she never really felt that way before...

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

I was reborn. Opening my eyes on the sofa, the television flickered before me, broadcasting another financial news segment about my husband, Jasper Brolin. The Alpha of the Moonblood pack, a man who had sat at the top of the billionaire list for years, was speaking with his usual cool authority. Broad-shouldered and sharp-featured, he carried an air of cold command that made him untouchable. Whenever he stepped into the public eye, the crowd surged with screams and breathless admiration. My marriage to him was the envy of our entire circle, and every woman wished to step into my shoes. As I watched the screen, memories of my tragic death in my last life came rushing back, sending a quiet ache through my chest. My wolf rumbled low in my chest. "So we're back. Now what?" "Break the bond," I whispered. "I'm leaving him." "He'll never agree to that." "That's why I need her help," I replied, thinking of the woman I had always disliked—Halle. Halle walked into the café, a smug smirk was plastered on her face. Having grown up alongside Jasper, she was regarded as his inner circle, and people never failed to give her the highest courtesy. I slid a mate-bond dissolution document across the table. "I need your help, Halle. And of course, there's something in it for you too." She glanced through the papers, suspicion flashing in her eyes. "Are you leaving him?" she asked. My voice was calm, "Maybe you're the one he really wants by his side." In my last life, I was the perfect Mrs. Brolin, envied by all, yet never the one he held closest. This time, I would take my unborn pup and leave quietly.

In an interview with the famous billionaire, Richard Wilson, the host asked him; "What's the one thing you regret the most?" On screen, Richard holding his mistress's hand, blurted out; "I regret the first day I allowed the thought of divorcing Flora to cross my mind." The hall went silent. Browses knitted in confusion, mouths left agape in shock. His mistress, Debby Jones flinched in embarrassment. How she wished, the ground should open up and swallow her whole. No one could believe that Richard Wilson would still choose his ex wife, Flora Blake after the embarrassment she brought to him just a month after their glamorous wedding. In a turn of events, Flora Blake was asked, "Did you ever regret cheating on your husband, just a month after your wedding? Sources had it that six years ago, you left without any form of remorse." Flora smiled, her eyes rolling between the anxious crowd and the pathetic face of the man she once took an oath to love till death. "My only regret is not cheating on him earlier than that. Like, let me say...a day after our wedding." "What?" "This woman got some shameless nerves!" "She isn't even grateful that billionaire Richard is willing to take her shitty ass back!" ***** Murmurs of different intensity filled the atmosphere. What the crowd never knew was that there's one secret of the Wilsons only known to Flora, and to protect this, they can forgive even the dirtiest crime above adultery so long as Flora will promise not to spew any word regarding such. But now that Flora's mind has toughened up over the years, is there any amount of compensation that can make her to let go of the past and embrace the undiluted love she once desired for a lifetime?

In the world of crime family, Don Damian and I were known for two things: him for running wild, me for standing by him. Everyone knew I was crazy about Damian. It started when we were kids. I was born with a congenital heart defect. My parents couldn't afford the surgery and chose to walk away. Back then, Damian was just a street-level errand boy whose father had gambling debts. He had no standing, no money, nothing. But to raise cash for my surgery, he volunteered for the most dangerous work the Coronelli family had, the kind where each job was a gamble with his life and every payday came in blood. He clawed his way up. The Don eventually took him in as an adopted son, and I became his wife, just like I'd always hoped. But ten years into our marriage, Damian stopped coming home. I'd sit alone at a table of cold food, calling him over and over. Sometimes a woman's voice would answer in the background. He had a private lounge at the family's club, and there was never a shortage of company. My best friend Vincent couldn't understand it. "Is it worth it? He doesn't love you anymore." I just smiled. "He gave me my life. I know he still loves me." Then Vincent forwarded me an encrypted video. A girl in a hospital gown sat on a hospital bed. At the edge of the frame, a hand with sharp-knuckled fingers reached into the shot, a hand wearing the family crest watch. Their fingers were intertwined. The caption read: [My hero promised to marry me once I'm better!! yay!!] I stared at the screen for a long time. That watch. I knew it cold. It was the one I'd fastened it onto his wrist myself more times than I could count, and there was no way I was wrong.

Aurora, be honest with me. What do you truly desire?" Zane asked, his gaze unwavering as he stared deep into my eyes. "I'm...confused," I admitted in a low tone, struggling to maintain my sanity. Just then, my phone chimed. I swiped the screen to see a message notification, it was from Mark. It read. 'We have a history together, Aurora. A future.' A tear streamed down my cheek as I stared at my phone. "Well?" Zane's voice snapped me back to reality. "You have to make a choice." "But-" my lips quivered as my mind reeled. "But what if I can't?" He let out a sigh as he took a step back. "Then you'll lose everything." -------- Aurora's tenth anniversary was supposed to be a celebration of a decade of devotion with Mark.. Instead, it became the day her whole world shattered. Dumped and heartbroken by the only man she had ever loved and trusted, she kept the secret of her pregnancy to herself. Seeking momentary oblivion in a bar, she finds her surrendering to a one night stand with an unforgettable stranger. Fate's cruel test continued when Aurora starts a new job, only to find the man from her one night stand was Zane, her boss. Zane's interest in her was evident, while she was hesitant, still nursing the wounds from Mark's betrayal and the burden of her pregnancy, she tried her best to resist him in every way possible. When an accident forces hee secret into the open, Zane jumps to the conclusion that the child was his, but kept it hidden to himself. After few months later, Aurora finally told him the truth, but to her surprise, he wasn't disappointed and still insisted that he wanted them both regardless who the child's biological father was.

My mother-in-law, Emma Grant, and I return to the country in advance during Christmas Eve. We originally plan on giving our respective husbands a huge surprise by showing up at Grant Manor. But the moment we arrive at the front door, we find out that the entire manor is painted in pink. A rich lady quickly blocks our way. "This is a private Christmas Eve party, you know! Not anyone is allowed entry! Besides, I don't recall having invited you here! Get lost now!" Emma frowns at her. "What a joke! Why do I need your permission to come here?" The lady shoots Emma a dark smirk in return. "Do you have any idea who the owner of this manor is? It belongs to my husband, Edward Grant! "In fact, Edward's the one who specifically threw this party just for me! Since you're dressed like a slut at this age, that just means you're planning to use this opportunity to seduce my darling husband!" My mind begins buzzing loudly. Isn't Edward Grant my father-in-law, who married into the Grant family as a live-in son-in-law? How could he be this lady's husband instead? Then, the lady catches sight of my phone's lock screen, which is my wedding portrait with my husband, Caleb Grant. She roars, "Oh, I see! You two are a pair of shameless minxes! It seems you've found out that my adoptive son, Caleb, is about to get engaged with my daughter tonight! That's why you're here to cause chaos, right?" Emma and I swap glances with each other in confusion. It turns out that both Edward and Caleb have been cheating on us this whole time. But then again, these two men are living off the Grant family! What makes them think they have the right to have side chicks on their own?

In my previous life, I practically dragged my useless childhood sweetheart to Harvard with me. My academic record was top-notch, and I spent three years tutoring him. I asked my father to donate a library to Harvard University, ensuring that they would extend an additional offer of admission to Felix. Finally—when he rejected the offer in favor of taking a gap year to go work in Australia with the girl he was infatuated with—I raised such a massive scene that I ultimately forced him to go to Harvard with me. After graduation, we got married. The natural ending. He built a tech empire and made me the wife of the richest man in the country. One regret. He died too young. Didn't leave me a single word at the end. Just went. And I — I inherited his billions, and lived comfortably all the way to eighty-eight. But when I died, I saw his soul. His eyes were blood-red. "You forced me onto this path. You took me from the only woman I ever loved. I died with regret. Pray we never meet again in the next life." ...What the fuck? He'd been in that much pain? And I was the only one — happily riding it out? Captions drifted across my vision. [Lmao — how thick is this side character's skin?] [Male lead dies young in agony, she breezes through to 88 as the richest widow in the country.] [The girl he actually loved was the one who flunked her SATs and ran off backpacking, hello???] [They both died young, missed each other, and the side character had the time of her life.] Even I felt bad. When I opened my eyes, I was back — standing in that basement he'd sworn would be his life of freedom, on the day he was supposed to reject his Harvard offer. This time, I am not stopping him from going to Australia.