Can A Stepmother Legally Stop Being A Stepmother?

Rhea Ravelle, heiress of a powerful and influential family, goes against her family's wishes and cuts ties with them. She chooses to marry Carter Jamison, a man with a failing career and two children born out of wedlock. For six years, she raises his children as if they were her own and helps Carter rebuild his crumbling business. Under her care, the kids grow into kind, well-mannered little stars, and Carter's company finally makes it big and goes public. But right at the celebration marking his entry into high society, the biological mother of his two children suddenly shows up. And Carter, who is usually so calm, completely loses it. He begs the woman to stay, making Rhea the laughingstock of the entire city. That night, he doesn't come home. Instead, he takes the children and runs straight back to his old flame, playing house as a happy family. Soon after, Carter files for divorce. "Thanks for everything, Rhea. But the kids need their birth mother." The children's mother also says, "Thank you for taking care of them all these years. But a stepmother will never compare to a birth mother." So blood beats love? If that's how it is, then she's done playing stepmother. However, the children reject their birth mother flat-out, and they don't want Carter either. They declare, "Rhea is our only mom! If you're getting divorced, then we're going wherever she goes!"

On my son Theo’s birthday, my husband Dashiell brought home his first love, Sabrina. My son was forgotten, I was ignored, and my mother-in-law treated me like a servant. Dashiell, instead of comforting me, declared that because Sabrina was dying of cancer, he would fake a divorce and marry her to fulfill her dying wish. I could no longer endure it—I decided to turn the “fake divorce” into a real one. Dashiell thought he had everything under control, but he underestimated me…

The first thing I did after being reborn was strip naked and walk into the room of Cain Edmonton, Alpha of the Northera Pack. That was because in my previous life, I'd been forced to mate with Cain's adopted son, Lukas Edmonton. I was even marked by him. After Lukas woke up, he completely denied forcing me to mate with him. He believed I had deliberately walked into his room and seduced him while he was in heat and not fully conscious. Later, we held our marking ceremony because I was with pup. During our eight years of sharing a mate bond, he barely ever came home. He spent most nights fooling around with his lover outside. Even when I went into premature labor and nearly bled to death, he never once came to see me. It wasn't until the pack was completely surrounded by vampires, and we lost all our territories. The evacuation helicopter only had one seat left. Everyone thought he would keep it for himself, but Lukas shoved me toward the final seat instead. "Go! Cecilia, I'm giving you the chance to live. If there's another life, please stay away from me. I only want to be with Isabella." The next second, vampires dragged him into the flames, while I died in a helicopter crash shortly after. What Lukas never knew was that he wasn't the only one who went into heat that night. His father, Alpha Cain, had gone into heat as well. After being reborn, I decided to give him what he wanted and let him be with Isabella Lancaster. In this life, I pushed open Cain’s door and walked toward him with nothing on. His cheeks were flushed. "Cain, let me help you."

My sister-in-law sent me a photo of her kissing my husband on the beach. Just a few minutes later, she deleted the photo and sent me a text saying, “Oops, sent to the wrong person. Lol.” I knew it was deliberate. It was never a mistake. She wanted me to see how happy my husband was with her. Clara was never my sister-in-law. Three years ago, my husband had lied about her, claiming she was his younger sister, and I believed him. But after five years of marriage, I discovered—far too late—that Clara was never his sister. She was his mistress, his childhood lover, the woman he had been sleeping with under the same roof as me while making me serve her as if she were truly my sister-in-law. And now what? He had lied again… said he was going on a business trip. Yet Clara had just sent me a picture—a cute, sickening picture—of my husband happily kissing the very woman he had once claimed was his younger sister. The photo carried a timestamp showing the exact time and location. It was real. There was no denying it. They were in Hawaii, on a beach, laughing, kissing, and having the time of their lives… while he had made me believe he was away on business. Without saying a word, I saved the picture and posted it straight to Instagram, captioning it: "Congratulations to my sister-in-law… on finally becoming the official wife.” Then I turned off my phone and went to bed. The next morning, after having breakfast with my cat, Lulu, and taking the warmest bath ever, I turned my phone back on—and froze. Over 200 missed calls were waiting for me. Notifications exploded across my phone. And it didn’t stop there—the number of unattended messages kept climbing past 250.

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?

Have you ever dreamt of becoming your stepson's wife? Of course, Jules never expected it, until she met him. * “Who is she?” he barked staring at the woman standing beside his dad with a cold gaze. “Your stepmom, Jules. My newly wedded wife.” his father answered, drawing Jules closer. Hero's lips twitched. Stepmom? He took in the young exquisite woman and sneered. She's more like a gold digger and as long as he's here, he would never accept her as his stepmom. Never!