Hardcore Mother

A darkness is coming, and it’s the same darkness that took Amy’s husband. Now it wants her son. A merciless, bloodthirsty hitman who has a dark secret will target the former actress and MMA fighter. She will also have to deal with a bomb, a terrorist group called the Infantry-men, and an evil version of herself. Will a mother uncover the truth behind her husband’s disappearance? Will she die herself while trying to find out what happened to the love of her life? Amy needs to survive the night so she can protect her son while searching for her husband. The clock is ticking, and the mother will have to protect her only baby from a dark and malevolent force that seeks to annihilate everything in its path.

Alpha Daddy: Take Mommy Home Five years ago, Lia vanished without a trace, leaving behind the man who shattered her heart — and the child he never knew existed. Far from the city’s power and politics, she raises her son in peace, determined to keep him safe from the world she once escaped. But fate plays a cruel trick. When her little boy’s photo goes viral, it catches the attention of Damien — the cold, ruthless alpha CEO who instantly notices one thing: The child looks exactly like him. Driven by shock, anger, and something far deeper, Damien tracks Lia down. He wants answers. He wants the truth. And most of all, he wants his son. Lia fights to protect the quiet life she built, terrified of the enemies who once pushed her away. But Damien is no longer the man she left. Discovering he’s a father awakens a side of him no one has ever seen fierce, protective, and determined to bring his family home. As hidden secrets surface and old wounds reopen, Lia must decide whether she can trust the man she once loved… or walk away again. He lost her once. This time, he’s not letting go.

I was crushed into a pulp by a speeding semi-truck while my mother was at a baking class with my cousin. When I called her, desperate, she only snapped at me. "What's all the racket? Kyle burned his hand because your call distracted him. Did you do that on purpose?" The next day, in her capacity as one of the city's most celebrated morticians, she was assigned to restore the face of a body mangled beyond recognition. She worked on it for a full day and night and still couldn't bring back the dead woman's face. Mom, can you really not recognize her? That's the face of the daughter you hated most.

My mom believed in one thing above all else: being number one. To achieve that, she created a strict daily schedule and even developed a monitoring app that required us to submit reports every day. Anyone who failed to rank first according to the app's evaluation would be tied to a chair and severely punished. No matter how difficult the task was, my younger brother, Jason Hunt, could always complete it and receive a perfect score. Even when he actually ranked last, the monitoring software would still display him in first place. As for me, a single misspelled word was enough to trigger a failing warning from the app, followed immediately by my mom's harsh punishment. At first, I tried to explain. Later, I stayed silent. In the end, I could only kneel and beg. My mom remained unmoved. "Trash doesn't deserve sympathy," she said coldly. "You'll thank me when you become successful in the future." On the first day of the New Year, my mom took Jason out to visit our relatives and exchange greetings. I, meanwhile, was burning with a high fever and could not even finish the day's assignments. Ignoring my illness, my mom dragged me into a bathtub filled with ice. "If you're trying to escape studying, you don't deserve to live," she said. "Pretending to be sick? If you've got the guts, then just die already." She forced my head underwater and raised a rod, smashing it against my skull again and again. I begged desperately for mercy, but it was futile. My mom left with Jason, and I curled up alone on the floor. She was right. Only those who work hard deserve to live.

My mother is an extreme misogynist, even toward me, her own daughter. She's wanted to kill me since the day I was born. She hits me if I wear lip gloss, wear a dress, or even get close to my father. Before sitting for my SATs, she spreads rumors about me trying to seduce my father. Ultimately, she pushes me so hard that I jump from the 15th floor. This pleases her to no end.

Mom was a top student at a prestigious school and had always been determined to be the best at everything. She demanded that I learn to walk by seven months, speak fluently by eighteen months, and master all addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division by the age of three. I did all of it. Yet Mom still felt it wasn’t enough. However, when my younger brother, Liam, didn’t speak until he was five, Mom clapped and cheered when he finally did, celebrating his “late-blooming brilliance”. I didn’t think anything of it. Until one day, I was wearing headphones, memorizing Spanish words, and accidentally let the sound leak out, scaring Liam. He clutched his chest and cried, saying his heart hurt. Mom’s eyes turned red as she stormed over and slapped me. Then she grabbed my ear, twisting it a full 360 degrees with all her strength. The pain in my ear was so intense that I lost all feeling, and the fear made me nauseous to the point of vomiting. Still, Mom forced the headphones back on, cranked the volume to the maximum, and locked me in the storage room to reflect. “How could I give birth to such a terrible child? You’re just jealous of Liam. No matter how much I do for you, you’ll never appreciate it! “Love listening to words, huh? Then listen all you want.” But seven days later, when she opened the door, she completely lost it.