Why Was Hermione Not In Ravenclaw の小説・ストーリー

Marcello believed his life is perfect, he got a perfect job, a perfect wife, perfect house. What more could he ask for? Marc knew he had gotten everything good in life, Little did he know this was just the beginning of his mystery, an exodus of his his life shattering into tiny pieces. His only mistake was that he had come home early, too early.

Warning! [21+] please choose your reading wisely. From a woman, over Magdalena's infidelity. Theo really won't be merciful. The marriage that has been destroyed, makes him no longer believe in the existence of women. However, who would have thought that an unexpected meeting by the existence of revenge would bring two people from different continents into the meltdown of romance. Souls shackled by shadows of the past have been cloaked in love as desire rages. Theo wants Rose's body to satisfy his multiplying desires. She had awakened his wild side. Even all kinds of obstacles will not be able to prevent his intention to make Rose a sugar baby and wife on paper. . . . [Spin off Brother Luck(not)]. Can be read separately, but recommended to read both.

"You have to remember one thing, I'll never let go of someone who stole something from me, and you're so sassy stealing my kiss. Naomi ... I think you in trouble right now." (*) Starting from a mistake one night, leading Naomi to an affair scandal with an American businessman who was her ice skating club sponsor. Then, after learning that the man was betrothed by his parents and planning to get married soon, Naomi realizes her relationship with Enrico is no longer just a sex partner. Enrico can't undo his matchmaking with Eve because he doesn't want to disappoint his parents, but he also doesn't want to lose Naomi. The woman he recently realized was someone he loved. When Naomi finally decides to leave his life on his wedding day with Eve, how does their story end?

Just because I post one picture with my younger brother, Lucas Gambino, his girlfriend Betty Gotti decides I'm the other woman. She rolls up to my place with her crew, live‑streaming the whole thing while they tear it apart. "Look at this puttana trying to steal my man!" Betty shouts to the camera. "She's got the face to flirt, but not the spine to admit it! Give me ideas, chat—I'll teach her some respect." Those psychos destroyed everything. My jewelry, my designer clothes, my bags… they didn't spare a thing. Not even the ring my parents left me. Then, with the viewers egging her on, Betty crossed the line. She had her girls strip me bare on stream. Her chat was going wild, donations pouring in—until my brother saw it. When Lucas kicked in the door to pull me out, I looked at him through eyes that burned. "Dump the girlfriend," I told him. "Or you can forget about ever being the Don."

Oscar Miller was Shirley Bishop's personal bodyguard, but when she got attacked on her birthday, he shielded her foster sister, Myra Bishop, with his own body. Shirley got cut three times—once across her face, once on her arm, and a third that stabbed her lower abdomen, leaving her unable to have children ever again. But even after all that, she still wanted to marry him. Later, Oscar did marry her—but he never touched her, not even once, all the way until his death. At his funeral, the insurance company showed up. "Mr. Miller purchased a large insurance policy before his death. The beneficiary is Ms. Myra Bishop." That was when Shirley realized that after all these years, Oscar had never gotten over Myra. Now, she had been reborn to when her father asked her to choose from four men she had grown up with to be her husband. This time, she decided to fulfill his wish and picked someone else.

After getting into an accident, I pretend to be an amnesiac to pull a prank on my husband and son. "Who are you guys?" I ask. A hint of delight flickers in my son's eyes. He pulls a woman waiting outside the hospital ward inside and says, "My parents and I came to visit you, ma'am." My husband watches all of this happen without saying a word. He doesn't correct our son.

Seven years into our marriage, I went to the hospital as usual to bring Jason Gunn lunch. But as I stood outside his office, I overheard his colleagues teasing him about a patient, calling her his girlfriend. To my shock, Jason didn't deny it—he simply smiled and allowed it. I placed the lunchbox down and turned to leave. He rushed after me, angrily accusing me of being unreasonable. "Zara is just a patient, someone who had surgery. She can't be stressed out. I'm a doctor! Can't you, as my wife, understand that?" In the past, I would have exploded, causing a scene and making the entire hospital chaotic. But now, I didn't care anymore.

I cradled Chloe’s newborn, filled with joy and affection. The baby was not blood of mine, yet as Chloe’s best friend, I would love and protect the little one with everything I had. "Sweet boy," I whispered, gently tapping the tip of his nose. "I'm your godmother. No one would ever hurt you." The hospital room was washed in golden afternoon light. Adrian stood by the window in a dark overcoat, his profile sharp against the glass. He looked exactly like the man the whole industry knew: controlled, elegant, untouchable. Hollywood's golden producer. My newlywed husband. Then he said, in a voice as flat as if he were discussing a contract, "He's not your godson. He's my son." For a second, I thought I had misheard him. Maybe I was just exhausted from the wedding, from the endless calls and fittings and congratulations. I almost laughed. But Adrian turned around. A cruel little smile curved his lips. "The child is mine," he said again. My arms tightened around the baby. "The night you got hurt," he went on, "I was with Chloe the whole night. We went through an entire box... apparently this little guy still found a way to arrive." I couldn't move. It felt as if ice water had been poured down my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. After a long silence, I finally managed to whisper, "But... we only registered our marriage yesterday." Adrian walked over and put an arm around my shoulders, almost gently. His tone was soft, but it carried the kind of condescension people used with a child throwing a tantrum. "Don't worry. Chloe and I were never going to get married. If I had wanted to marry her, I would have done it years ago." He paused, and something almost pleased flashed in his eyes. "Didn't Chloe ever tell you? We had a history. I was her first."

"You're under arrest for the murder of Eric caddel" And that was how camelia's life took a whole drastic turn in the blink of an eye. The once beautiful,bubbling camellia became a shadow of herself as those who she called family neglected her when she needed them the most.And the society who ones loved and Cherished her tagged her a murderer and stared at her with nothing but uttermost disgust. the only person she could run too at this difficult phase of her, was her only childhood friend,Army. After spending two years in jail, camelia came out with the intention of leaving her past behind and starting afresh with her only friend army, who she now considered as her only family. Somehow,the past keeps coming to haunt her as everyone keeps tagging her a murderer and sending threats, making it so had for her to start a new life, and that had prompt her to move to a new city with her friend to start afresh. Moving into a new city and starting a new life,was all her plans.but,little did she know that crossing path with William wyatt was also going to be part of it. scared of fate repeating itself, camelia tried so hard to block all William's attempt to get close to her. But,william turns out to be the stubborn type,,as he isn't ready to give up. He’s bent on making her his, and will stop at nothing. On the long run, he founds out her secret and vows to clear, pushing his dreams aside,just to chase hers. Slowly she found herself falling into his arms. Will she ever be able to clear her name and love again?

My parents set me up on a marriage match—and it turned out to be my girlfriend, Chloe. I was hyped. I went straight to the luxury boutique where she worked, ready to tell her. Then I stopped outside the VIP room. "Chloe, if you're dumping him, just do it. Why fake cancer? You're putting bad juju on yourself." "What do you know? A dead ex sticks forever. Next week, I'm getting engaged to a Remington. Having an ex like me? That's his win." Inside, her friends hyped her up. Laughter all around. I just stood there, cold spreading through me. Three years. A joke to her. She was trading up—and still playing me one last time. I clenched my jaw and called my mom. "Mom, cancel the engagement... No rush. I'll handle it myself."