How Can A Mother Stop Her Child From Being Called A Bastard?

I went out in the morning and saw an abandoned baby by the roadside. I was about to pick the baby up and take him home when I heard the baby’s inner thoughts. The baby thought, ‘Dad’s plan is genius. He dumped me right where Scarlett would find me on purpose. That way, she’ll take me in and adopt me. Then, I’ll legally become part of the Lumley family without any issues. ‘Back then, Scarlett used her rich family background to ruin my parents’ relationship on purpose. Now she’s stuck raising me, Dad’s illegitimate child. Now she’s getting exactly what’s coming to her. ‘Once I become part of the Lumley family, I’m going to help Dad destroy this wench as fast as I can. Then, I’ll bring Mom over so the three of us can finally be together as a family.’ The baby on the ground was still grinning at me. However, I had already heard every single one of his thoughts. I smirked and made a phone call. Since he was an illegitimate child, he should go where he belonged.

My three-year-old son, Ethan, strayed into rogue territory and was brutally murdered. When the news reached me, I blacked out. I woke up to my Alpha mate, Alexander, gripping my hand tightly. His voice was hoarse with grief. "Ivy, I swear I will avenge Ethan. I will tear those damned rogues apart with my own claws." But three days later, at the funeral, I overheard a conversation between Alexander and his Beta, Marcus. "Alpha, I don't understand," Marcus sounded confused. "Why didn't you let the pack doctor save Ethan? He was only critically injured. If we had acted in time..." "It was Lucas. He accidentally pushed Ethan toward the rogue territory," Alexander’s voice was laced with pain. "Lucas was just a child who didn't know the rogue borders. He didn’t mean it." "If I let the doctor save Ethan, the boy would have told everyone the truth. Sophia would go to jail, and the Council would sentence Lucas to death. I couldn't let that happen." Alexander continued. "But what about the pack's heir?" Marcus asked, worried. "It doesn't matter," Alexander’s tone returned to a chilling calm. "Once Ivy calms down, I'll bring Lucas back. We’ll say he’s an adopted orphan and have the next Alpha raised by Ivy herself." So, the person who killed my son was his illegitimate child with his mistress. My son could have been saved, but Alexander sacrificed my Ethan for his bastard. I dialed a number I hadn't called in five years. "Dad, it's me. Ivy." "I’ve changed my mind," my voice was cold and steady. "I’m coming back to inherit the Royal Pack." "And what about the Moonstone Pack?" "I want the Moonstone Pack erased from existence."

It was the thirtieth anniversary of my alma mater, and I had been invited back to give a speech. But as I stepped on stage, my husband's illegitimate son rushed toward me, brandishing a knife. His accusations rang through the hall: I was a homewrecker, the woman who had driven his mother to her death. He went even further, kidnapping my daughter and threatening her safety unless I publicly read a letter of confession. I was beaten to within an inch of my life, my body battered and bruised. I demanded my husband come forward and confront the truth. Instead, he turned on me. "I was forced to be with you in the first place!" my husband spat, venom dripping from every word. "You're the real mistress!"

My mom is terrified of being laughed at by others the most. Whenever the holidays are here, she will keep repeating one sentence to me—"Don't go around embarrassing me." When my relatives gather around and chat with each other, I accidentally knock a fruit platter over. Mom drags me over and slaps me on the spot. At the holiday feast, I grab extra pieces of steak for myself. Mom responds by kicking my chair over. When it's time for the holiday gifts to be distributed, my aunt, Gabriella Hall, has miscalculated the number of children present among the family. So, she has prepared one less gift for the occasion. Mom doesn't hesitate to kick me out of the apartment, leaving me shivering in the cold corridor in just my indoor clothes. The icy winds chill me to the bone. I keep slamming my palms on the front door while screaming and crying my apologies at Mom, and yet she remains unmoved and silent. Instead, she turns to face Aunt Gabriella with an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't raise my daughter well. It's only fair that you ridicule me." What Mom doesn't know is that I get triggered whenever I hear the word "ridicule" thanks to her so-called parenting lessons. Whenever I hear that word, I want nothing more than to hurt myself uncontrollably. So when I hear the word "ridicule" coming out of Mom's mouth through the front door, I turn on my heel quietly and begin making my way toward the bridge next to the neighborhood that's plunged into darkness. The moment I jump from the bridge, the only thought I have is, "Mom, no one will ridicule you because of me this time."

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.

After spending six months overseas expanding business, I had just closed a deal worth ten billion. Casually scrolling through the news, a headline made me stop dead in my tracks. [Shocking! Illegitimate Daughter Provokes Meyer Family Heiress, Teacher and Classmates Punish Her!] In the video, my daughter Maeve stood in the freezing snow wearing nothing but a tattered dress, her body covered in bruises. She was being forced to endure the cold, her little frame shivering uncontrollably. A female teacher poked at Maeve's head, ordering the entire class to call her a shameless illegitimate child. Maeve sobbed, insisting she wasn't, but all she got in return was crueler, more mocking laughter from everyone around her. Then a chubby little boy ran up and slapped her across the face. "Your mom's a mistress, and you're a filthy illegitimate child! You're both just gutter rats!" The teacher didn't stop him—she clapped her hands in approval. "That's right! The Meyer family heir isn't something just any nobody gets to pretend to be." "Besides, Mrs. Meyer picks up Clarisse every single day. Look at her—so elegant, clearly classy. And your homewrecker of a mother? Pathetic. She's not even in the same league." When I heard that last line, I slammed my laptop shut, shaking with rage. I turned to my assistant. "Book me the fastest private jet home. I want to see for myself exactly when Aaron, that worthless husband of mine, managed to father an illegitimate child."