Snape's Worst Memory Novels & Stories

My so-called best friend pretends to be me and steals my identity as the CEO. She spends money recklessly and announces she'll buy apartments in the city for our long-time employees. Everyone praises her as the perfect boss. Not only that, but she also steals my husband. Even my son calls her "Mommy". So, when I'm accused of having bipolar disorder and other mental health issues, no one speaks up for me. My young son has no idea that I am his birth mother. The company and assets my parents have left me have been taken by my best friend, too. In the end, my body ulcerates, and I pass away in a psychiatric hospital. When I open my eyes again, I realize I'm back on the day my best friend used my money to buy apartments for our employees. She stands in the center of the crowd, taking in all the praises. "You're beautiful and so is your heart, Ms. Moore! You care about us so much, always handing out bonuses. And now, you want to set up a fund to help us buy homes? I'd work for you until I die!" And so, I quietly change the password on the bank card that funds all this. This time, I'll make sure my dear friend and my beloved husband experience the "wonderful" life they truly deserve.

My serpent husband lost his memory and insisted on a divorce. He couldn't believe that someone of his status, the rarest purebred serpent alive, would ever marry a human. "Ms. Cassandra, I'm sorry, but I'd appreciate your cooperation in having the mate mark removed." "The billion is compensation. No need to return it." Hearing that, I actually felt relieved. I mean, sure, my husband was gorgeous and filthy rich… But he had two dicks! And each one was so huge. It was just too much. After the divorce, if I ever look for another husband... I would definitely find someone a bit gentler, the kind where just one is plenty!

Everyone in the pack knew that my mate Damien loved me fiercely. After our mating ceremony, Damien gave me three bonding gifts. The first was a protective amulet he'd prayed three days and three nights for at the Moon Goddess shrine. The second was a sculpture he spent months carving with his own hands. The third was a diamond ring — the symbol of the Luna — priceless, and with it came the authority to govern the pack. On my birthday, he went searching for a moonstone and was ambushed by rogue wolves. He fell off a cliff. When he woke, his memory was gone. A bar hostess had rescued him. They fell in love. But the day before their mating ceremony, his memories returned, and he came back to me without hesitation. Just when I thought he'd ended things with her, on the very day I found out I was pregnant, I received a video — an intimate recording of the two of them together. Vivian was already carrying his child, nestled against Damien like a helpless little bird. "You're carrying my child. I won't abandon you. As for Elena — a few sweet words and she'll do whatever I say." I turned off my phone and sent a mind-link to my father. "Dad. The arranged mating you set up for me — I accept."

The proud and spirited Evelyn White relentlessly pursued the aloof and cold-hearted Julian Moore, eventually becoming Mrs. Moore as she had dreamed. For Julian, Evelyn, the once-proud princess, lowered her noble head. However, after their marriage, she discovered that he still kept his first love in his heart, an unforgettable shadow from his past. Evelyn became the subject of ridicule among the affluent socialites of Riverdale’s elite circles. One day, a heated argument escalated into a dramatic rooftop scene, captured by someone with ill intent and swiftly posted online, making Evelyn the target of public scorn across the city. When she regained consciousness, all memories of him were gone. Evelyn asked, “Sir, may I ask who you are?” Julian replied, “Eve, pretending to have amnesia is such a cliché. I won’t divorce you.” However, Evelyn really turned and walked away without looking back. Three years later. A little girl with delicate features accidentally fell into Julian’s arms. Seeing the familiar figure that haunted his dreams, Julian instinctively blurted out, “Eve, this is... our child?” Evelyn, holding the arm of a charming and elegant man beside her, smiled and said, “Mr. Moore, let me introduce you—this is the father of my child!”

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I found another woman’s lace thong in my bedroom. My husband, Mark Donovan, stood in front of the closet and said coldly, “She’s just a kid, Leslie. Don’t make this ugly.” That “kid” was pregnant with his child. That “kid” had already moved into my home, worn his shirts, slept in my bed, and made him cut down the magnolia tree my dead parents planted for me. Everyone in the Donovan family thought I would scream, cry, and beg. After all, I had loved Mark for nine years. But this time, I only picked up my suitcase. Because they didn’t know one thing. The divorce had already been filed. The Donovan wife’s emerald brooch had already been returned. And the evidence against his precious little mistress had already been delivered to the old Don. Mark thought I was walking out of his mansion. He didn’t know I was walking out of his life. Forever.

When she married Harry Slate, she was 22 years old while he was 32. During their three years of marriage, he showered her with endless tenderness and would give her anything she wanted. He said he could pick the stars for her if she wanted, even the moon if she so wished. He spoiled her like she was a precious treasure. The only thing was that he had insatiable demands every night. He would chuckle and refuse to let her go, even when she cried and begged for mercy. She knew Harry had a lot of money and a lot of love—and all of it belonged to her. The day her father passed away, she called him 99 times, yet he declined every single one. The next second, she received a photo taken by her best friend. [Celine, is this your man? I saw him hugging a woman on the streets of Palto.] After tapping the photo and seeing the man and the woman, Celine Quest felt as though she had fallen into an icy abyss. The man was Harry, and the woman was her aunt.

A serial killer targeted me. My sister-in-law was assaulted and murdered while trying to save me. Not only did I refuse to call the police, I pushed my father-in-law and mother-in-law down a flight of stairs when they came to help. I even helped the killer destroy the evidence. When my husband learned that his entire family got killed, he broke down in tears. He grabbed me by the collar and demanded, "Why? Why would you do this?" I deliberately waved photographs of his family's gruesome deaths in front of him and burst into laughter. "Why?" I sneered. "Because they deserved it." My parents begged me to cooperate so I wouldn't be sentenced to death. Instead, I publicly severed all ties with them. Meanwhile, the murderer who escaped justice struck again, claiming another victim. As public outrage reached its peak, I was selected for the Memory Extraction Program. Before the sentence was carried out, my husband asked me one final time, "The Memory Extraction System is still a prototype. You could die during the procedure. "Tell us the truth now, and there's still a chance to make things right." I slowly raised my head to look at him. "You're not getting a single word out of me." The crowd instantly erupted. People shouted that a worthless life like mine deserved to die. But when my memories were finally extracted, they were the ones crying and begging someone to save me.

Beta Max and I were at the Civil Affairs Bureau, ready to register our marriage. We were just waiting to take the final photo when he got a phone call and left. He abandoned me right there at the marriage registration office, leaving me stuck in an impossible situation. I called him—no answer. I messaged him—no reply. In the end, I had no choice but to call his childhood sweetheart’s number. Beta Max answered. “Louis, can you stop being so annoying? Grace twisted her ankle—I need to take care of her today. Stop calling and waking her up. We’ll reschedule the registration.” I bit my lip and murmured into the phone, “This makes it the seventh time we’ve rescheduled.” “So what? The Civil Affairs Bureau isn’t going anywhere—it’s not like it’s going to disappear!” My face was blank, but it felt like my heart was being carved open. A staff member looked at me with pity and asked, “Alpha Louis, are we still doing this?” I gave a small nod. “Yes. Let’s go through with it.”

When the mission ends, the real war begins. Captain Jack McCormack has lost everything that mattered. His partner, Lieutenant Michelle Richards, was killed during a covert operation in Iraq—her death a brutal reminder that even the best can fall. Months later, his ASIO team—friends, family in all but name—were systematically executed during a routine bonding session at a suburban paintball park. It wasn’t an accident. It was a message. Now isolated and hollowed out by grief, Jack tries to disappear into the shadows. But when a dangerous new synthetic drug called Supernatural starts flooding the city streets, he’s forced back into action. Jack knows this drug. He’s seen what it can do—what it did before, in a mission buried so deep it was meant to stay forgotten. With ASIO compromised and political forces tying his hands, Jack turns to the only people he can trust—his retired SAS brothers, elite operators with scars of their own. Together, they launch a black-ops investigation to uncover who’s behind Supernatural… and why the same shadows keep reaching into their past. But some ghosts aren’t just memories. Some are still alive.

When Aria, an unassuming omega with a mysterious power she can't control, is named the fated mate of Alpha Caden, chaos ensues. Caden, too proud to accept a weak mate, plans a public humiliation to rid himself of her. But when Aria’s latent abilities begin to surface, the pack is thrown into turmoil. As a ruthless rogue Alpha threatens to overthrow the pack, Caden must choose between protecting his pride or embracing a destiny he cannot deny. In a world where strength is everything, the only thing more powerful than fate is the force of an unexpected love.