Wedding Ron And Hermione Kiss Mga Nobela at Kwento

On my wedding day, my sister was drugged by my fiancé's best friend and viciously assaulted by a group of groomsmen. When she came to, the shame and horror drove her to leap to her death, her broken body crumpling at my feet. Herbert Brady shielded my eyes from the grisly sight, vowing to make things right. But when the truth came out that Lori Reilly was behind it, he smashed my phone to keep me from calling the police. Lori shrugged with mock innocence. "The guys were just messing around. So what if they tore her clothes off? I've been half-naked around them plenty of times. Why was she so fragile?" She slung her arm around Herbert's neck, whining, "I told you not to marry some broke nobody. Poor people have such brittle pride. Look at the mess Mona has made." When I demanded justice, Herbert stayed cool, sliding a Centurion card across the table. "Ten million dollars. Enough to buy your silence? Lori is one of us, part of the city's elite inner circle. Push your luck, and you're making enemies of everyone who runs this town. Come on, it was just a wedding prank gone wrong." I seized the car and snapped it like a twig. Ten million dollars? To buy the life of the Woodard family's cherished heiress?

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Alexander is a college student known as a playboy and belongs to the group of famous bullies at their university. He was happy and contented about hooking up girls from left to right that making his mother's head hurt. But then, his world suddenly changes when they go to the province as a punishment for his bad doings. He will meet Verna, the daughter of his cousin's housemaid. One fine morning, he just woke up naked next to that woman and the worst part is Verna's father and ten brothers caught them in that position. And their love story begins in the most epic way, "The Shot Gun Wedding".

Sia wanted one night, just one daring, unforgettable night with Knight Smithfield, the boy she’s quietly loved from afar. What she didn’t expect… was to kiss his twin brother instead. A masked moment and a stolen kiss that felt too right to question until a photo exploded across campus, turning her secret into scandal. Now, Sia is forced to be in a fake relationship with Richard, the wrong twin… and the only one who knows the truth. As if that wasn't complicated enough, their parents just got married, forcing all three under one roof. Living with the Smithfield twins should’ve made things clear. Love one. Hate the other. Easy, right? Except nothing feels easy when Richard starts becoming something more than a mistake, and Knight suddenly starts acting like he wants her too. One kiss changed everything. Now Sia is caught between two brothers, two hearts… and one impossible choice. Was it just a twisted accident— Or was it fate playing her hand?

Every woman who marries into the Ardhana family dies on her wedding night. Alika, a quiet orphan with no memory of her past, is suddenly chosen to marry Damar Ardhana—the cold heir of a powerful bloodline surrounded by rumors, fear, and unanswered deaths. The town calls it a curse. Seven brides. Seven deaths. Always on the first night. No one survives the Ardhana wedding. Alika never believed in curses… until she wakes up inside an ancient mansion hidden in mist, standing at the altar beside a man who refuses to look at her as if she truly exists. That night, the house begins to whisper her name. Mirrors show a bride who is not her. And fragments of memories begin to surface—memories that should not belong to her. But the mansion hides more than a curse. Lazriel appears—a mysterious man who knows too much about the Ardhana bloodline and the buried Blackwell curse beneath it. He feels like a stranger, yet something inside Alika reacts as if he has always been part of her fate. And then there is Ethan. The man who protects her when the mansion turns hostile. The man who looks at her like he has lost her once before… and refuses to lose her again. Alika is trapped between three truths: a cursed husband, a man who knows her forgotten past, and a man who feels like a memory she was never meant to forget. But the deeper she searches, the more she realizes the truth—the mansion is not just cursed. It is a system. A cycle of death, memory, and reset. And Alika is not just another bride. She is the key. Because the Blackwell curse does not kill randomly. It resets everything. And this time… something inside the system is starting to remember her.

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

My secretary replaced me on my wedding day, walking down the aisle in a white wedding gown. The man I had loved for ten years threw the bridesmaid dress in my face and ordered me to wear it instead. "She is the bride now. You'll be next," he said coldly. My grandmother was so furious that she fell ill on the spot. Meanwhile, he and the secretary smiled brightly as they completed the wedding ceremony. After the grand wedding, the secretary posted photos of herself in her wedding gown on social media. The comments were overwhelmingly congratulatory. [Today is such a beautiful day, I finally got what I wanted. I hope those who try to ruin someone else's relationship will wake up soon.] She wrote. Chester Morrison replied to her post: [It is a great day. Don't ruin your good mood by some trash.] When I returned home, holding my grandmother's photo, who had passed away, I found them tangled together on the bedspread my grandmother had lovingly sewn for me, the one with a pair of Swan that symbolizes eternal love.

In a country where people view being single as a sin. Some would even conclude that you have been married to the devil by your parents, others would say you have a spirit husband a d that was the reason no one was coming for you. To worsen it, you chose a profession that perpetually puts you on the limelight, people call for you, they have seen your work and they want to have you as their photographer. Such was the case for Rebecca, she was young beautiful but she feels so alone since all her mates were married, she was still single and to worsen it no one was seeing her, it felt more like she was invisible, people would always tell her she was beautiful but they never went further even when she would be the one to quickly show her interest. She wanted so much to be loved and feel loved, she wanted to know what it felt like to be inlove. She looked pretty young but she wasn't really that young which was why her mother would want her to go to church with her every now and then, she wished she was not in the same state with her mother because even if she runs away from her mother, she always finds a way to get her back. But the story changed for Rebel when she was contracted to handle Charles' wedding, her job was going just as perfect, she was doing exactly what she used to do, she was giving her best to the work. She showed them a sample of how the work would look like, but she couldn't concentrate, whenever Charles was close to her, even if he was with Sandra, she just couldn't concentrate, she was inlove with her client.

The night before the bond ceremony, the moonlight was like silver, sprinkling over the altar of the werewolf tribe. The Moon Goddess chose Jonah's white moonlight, Emma, and assigned her to William, the tyrannical alpha of the werewolf tribe.His blood flows with the power of the ancient wolf king, but also with untamed wildness. Rumor has it that every woman who spends the night with William will be covered in bruises the next day. William’s desire is intertwined with his wolf nature, and the silver bed is his unique symbol. Silver is poison and a test for werewolves. William would let those women lie on the cold silver bed, watching their pain of being eroded by silver and the joy of desire intertwined, making painful moans and confused gasps. This contradictory torture is the catalyst for his wild desire. Jonah knows William's cruelty well, and he can't bear Emma to be the next victim. So, under the protection of the moonlight, he kidnapped Emma one step ahead and completed the marking ceremony with her under the witness of the Moon Goddess. And I, the woman abandoned by Jonah. The vows I made turned to ashes under the moonlight, and my name became a laughingstock in the tribe. In the evening, the setting sun was like blood, and William's figure appeared in front of my tent. His golden pupils flickered in the twilight with the aggression of a beast. His voice was low and threatening: "Since Jonah has robbed my partner, you can be my Luna: how about it?" Luna, the partner of the alpha in the werewolf tribe, symbolizes power and glory, but also means endless bondage and danger. I raised my head, looked directly into his eyes, and a sneer appeared at the corner of my mouth: "Okay."

“Stop the wedding,” Revan’s voice boomed across the garden. It was loud and clear that it made everyone freeze. Citrine smiled and slowly let go of Gael’s arm, perplexing every guest. “Citrine, babe, w-what are you doing?” he stuttered. He was about to grab her hand when the sex video of him and Citrine’s half-sister began to play. Embarrassed by his cheating ass, he quickly left the venue along with Trisha. “Now, sorry about that father; can we continue the ceremony?” Citrine asks politely as if nothing has happened. “But the groo—” “I am here,” Revan said as he approached Citrine. *** Citrine Lustrio is the illegitimate daughter of a business tycoon; she grew up being mistreated and neglected by her family, and to make matters worse, she discovered her fiancé cheating on her with her half-sister. Determined to break free from her messed-up life and exact revenge, she struck a deal with Revan, the CEO of Soldevilla Group—the man who had betrayed and broken her heart six years ago.