A Stepmother Marchen 소설 & 이야기

“You have two choices, Emma marry Damien Blackwood… or walk out of this house with nothing.” Emma stared at Vivian in disbelief. Her ears rang as if the world around her had suddenly fallen silent. “…What?” Vivian folded her arms, her expression as cold as stone. “You heard me.” Emma looked from her stepmother to Sophia, hoping one of them would laugh and admit it was a cruel joke. Neither did. Sophia sat comfortably on the sofa, scrolling through her phone as though they weren’t discussing another person’s future.

Sophie was in high spirits, as usual. “So,” Sophie said with a mischievous grin as they reached the lecture hall. “Tell me more about your stepfather. After seeing him the other day, I have been wanting to ask about him. He is so hot. Like, seriously. If he wasn’t your stepdad, I might be interested. That silver-fox thing he has going on? Total daddy material.” Monalisa’s cheeks burned. “Sophie!” “What? I’m just saying. He’s tall, muscular, that commanding presence… total fantasy material.”

“But I’m glad I’m here. I think it’s time for us to talk.” “Ummmm. One second. I ummm have to… One second.” When she tried to shut the door, I slammed my hand against the door, keeping her from shutting it as I stepped inside. A whimper came from my right, but I didn't look. I couldn't. I knew exactly what I would see, and I couldn't face her. I wasn't ready to face my past in that way. With my eyes glued icily to my mother's, I took a step closer to her, taking great joy in the way she immediately moved back away from me.

I clung to those values because I thought they were enough to keep us together, to keep us safe. But when his car slid off the icy road, and his heart stopped beating, it all unraveled. My stepmother, Victoria, wore black to his funeral, but there was no hint of grief in her eyes. While I cried for the last of my kin, she stood beside me, gazing down at me as though I were some pest she could not wait to be free of. I did not realize then how true that was.

Because my father saw me, I approached him. "You visited for, how long?" He asked. "Maybe forever," I said, and he grinned faintly. "I want to know my stepmother, can it be as good as my mother." "You don't need mom, but you need it—" His talk suddenly stopped when he looked at the stairs; a beautiful woman, brown-haired, bumpy, and very elegant, walking towards us with a wide smile. Was she my stepmother? "You want to know my wife, this is Beatrice, you can call her Mom"

his secretary’s squeaky voice stammered through the intercom. “What?” he growled. “Uh…your mother called.” “STEP-mother,” he corrected her, rubbing at his temple again. His stepmother, a thirty-year-old actress wannabe was a gold-digging whore who only married his father for the sake of money. And she was close to making her dream come true. His father went senile a year after they got married and she’d somehow manipulated his old man to change his will. If he didn’t act sooner, his family legacy and Winters Architecture, the country’s biggest and most influential architectural firm would fall into the hands of an airhead.

“Did you miss me?” Her auburn hair darkens. Her face shifts, aging slightly. And suddenly I’m staring at my stepmother—the woman who died when Alistair attacked our pack. Except she’s not dead. She’s very, very alive. And she’s a witch. “No,” I breathe, my legs going weak. “No, this can’t…” “I’ve been playing you all like puppets,” Kate, my stepmother, continues, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Orchestrating every tragedy, every betrayal, every death.”

She had said so much, yet she still didn't know who she was! Marissa had never seen anyone more foolish than Charlotte, she stated with some disdain, "I am Leandro's stepmother." "Ah, so you're the mistress who took over as the stepmother!" After speaking, Charlotte quickly covered her mouth, blinked her eyes, and looked at Marissa with an innocent face, "I'm sorry, stepmother, sometimes I speak without thinking. Stepmother, is there something you came for today?" Marissa's face stiffened, Charlotte's constant reference to her as a stepmother made her uncomfortable.

My stepmother isn't a very nice person in general. The exact word to describe her is Evil. Evil! Conrad stood up and reached out to take my hand. The forest ranger is only looking at me tonight, and after our secret meeting, am certain that he wants me as much as I want him. The truth is my stepmother was never mean or evil. Ever since my father died, my life has never been the same. My stepmother turned into someone completely different as soon as my father’s will was read aloud. She became demanding, sharp, and started ordering me around, making Me clean and cook all day long. Apart from my stepmother, I have two stepsisters who are also very cruel to me most of the time. I hate the way th

But what struck me was how my mother, too, seemed compelled to join them, like she couldn't resist inserting herself into whatever was about to unfold. "Hi Lance!" she called out, her voice artificially sweet. "Aren't you going to introduce me to the beautiful lady beside you?" I saw Sylvia reach Lance before my mother could. She was poised, graceful, her presence undeniable. Lance laughed in that boyish way of his, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Oh, Sylvia. Meet Marriane, my stepmother. Marriane, this is Sylvia. She's... a friend." I watched Sylvia's expression shift slightly. She raised an eyebrow and extended a hand toward my mother, but her words came with a teasing sting. "A f