Novel & Cerita Stepmother Marchen

Her eyes glowed with that same unnatural golden color I’d seen in the mountain. I didn't really understand the connection between these two. They both wanted the same thing and they were willing to work together to get it then tear each other apart when it comes to whom should wield it. It was sickening and I never thought that my father would side with someone like her. He was a totally different person. All because of what? Power? “Son,” Victor said with a cold smile. “You’ve been busy. Breeding your stepsister like a good Alpha should.”

He walks to the counter and slides a manila folder toward me. "Michaela Marcus? Gloria's daughter?" My stomach drops. The bread dough suddenly feels heavy in my hands. "Who's asking?" "I am. On behalf of my client." He taps the folder with one finger. His nails are clean and trimmed. Everything about him is precise and controlled. "Your mother married a man named Richard Moore six months ago. Three weeks after the wedding, she transferred forty-seven million dollars from his accounts and disappeared." I wipe my hands on my apron, leaving flour streaks across the yellow flowers. "I haven't spoken to my mother in eight months. I don't know anything about this."

Xyla was utterly speechless. Mother? Was she worthy of that title? “You’re not worthy,” Jeremy snapped coldly. That one sentence was enough to put Xyla at ease. “Alright then. Stan, we met yesterday. I’m May Conner, Xyla’s stepmother. Welcome to our home,” said May, grinning. She was completely unfazed by Jeremy, unleashing her shamelessness to its full potential. It was impossible to tell that she had been at odds with them just yesterday.

“Tell me what you want me to do honey. Beg for it! Say it!” ‘Why don't you kneel and show me how good you are and make me happy? Suck it!” Suck, what?! I have seen a sex scene when my mom was raped. But I don't understand what should be sucked. “Faster! Be my slave and treat me like a king. “ “Get enough of me! Ugh! So good.” With stealth, I carefully reach the doorknob, twist it, and push the door without making a sound.

Not when I’ve clawed my way into being taken seriously in this godforsaken company. Not when one mistake could put him in line for the inheritance instead of me. So I open the door and step out. And she’s already strutting my way like she owns the damn sidewalk. My stepmother, draped in a skin-tight crimson dress that looks two sizes too small, her heels clicking like gunshots on marble. Gold chains tangled at her neck. Hair piled high. Nails long enough to draw blood. She makes a beeline for me, fake concern painted all over her heavily contoured face. But Theodore moves faster.

“Thank God. I would’ve burned everything down otherwise.” I laugh, slow and tired and real, and let Cole guide me further inside. He looks proud of Steph, of the house, of me. Of all of it. His parents are already here, his mother perched gracefully on the sofa, his father standing nearby, glass of sparkling water in hand. “This is lovely,” his mother says warmly, pulling me into a careful hug. “Steph has outdone herself.” Steph places a hand over her heart. “Validation received.” Sawyer arrives next, with Jasmin in tow. Jasmin is sixteen and unapologetically herself, arms crossed, expression permanently unimpressed by everything except the people she actually likes. She makes a face the mom

Suddenly, she scoffed, and then her eyes were fixed sternly on me. "Oh, I see where this is going. You are trying to make advances on your stepfather. I knew that you were a little whore. Slut! I had known this all along! Always stealing the attention of the men in my life! You did that when I was with your father, and now that he's dead, you have set your sights on your stepfather. You're a sick child!" My fists clenched as rage rushed through me. “Don't you dare call me a slut! If anything, it should be you. You have a daughter, but you still feel it's okay to go man-hopping. You should be ashamed!”

The housekeeper became my stepmother, and together with her son, they plotted to kill me. After being reborn, I exposed a video of her affair at her own wedding, destroying her reputation completely. I watched as she and her son were kicked out. They left with nothing, wandering the streets like outcasts. I smiled and tossed a moldy piece of bread into their begging bowl. “This is all you deserve.” …… When I opened my eyes, I found myself back to a week before my dad’s wedding to our housekeeper, Megan Zimmerman.

She then smiled shyly and left. Her gesture caught me off guard, filling me with a surge of excitement. It was a clear sign—she cared for me just as deeply as I cared for her. Perhaps dating her was the best decision; it would bring me closer to my children. For the first time in what felt like forever, the prospect of peace and happiness seemed within reach. ******* "How dare you lay your filthy hands on my son!" Stephanie, my stepmother, roared immediately as I stepped into the mansion. The mansion is just a five-minute drive from mine; it's a larger and grander version of mine.

Martin wanted his first daughter to find true happiness and hasn't approved of any arrangement marriage proposal yet from his business associate, as he only used it to remind Mella that she would have to get married someday. "There is no problem with that. When you are ready, you can bring him home for us to meet with him," Mr. Martin said as he smiled back at his daughter. And Mella stood up and went to greet her stepmother in her quarter, as she knew her stepmother was a conniving person and didn't like her because her children were still younger compared to her. Her stepmother's first son, who was still a young adult, was sixteen years old, and his mother wished he was older than Mella. M