Life With Mother Superior

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.

Chapter 47-49 have some glitch so please skip those chapters Read at your own risk, It's FICTION*Have you ever been in a situation where it feels like the world is against you, that's the life of Aubrey Shawl, struggling to make end's meet and survive through the hardship of life. A 22 year old Aubrey with a dead father and a runaway mother, she takes up the responsibility of her younger sister June Shawl. Working as a waitress at Billie's placeWhat happens when she gets fired from work and getting home to meet an eviction notice and finding out her sister needs a kidney transplant all in the same dayWhat more does Aubrey have to go through to survive?Chris White, A successful doctor who works in the same hospital June is admitted, he is cold but humble when he wants to be. Loosing his wife to cancer three years ago has shaped him to who he is now, earning the famous title 'Doctor Ice', still grieving over the death of his wife. He meets Aubrey and offers her a life changing experience that comes with a huge priceWill Aubrey be able to go through with it?Will Chris be able to get over the death of his wife?Find out in THE SURROGATE MOTHER

Alec, a renowned mafia leader who got involved with an unknown lady, having sex with her wasn't his plan but he did it anyway. Unfortunately, the lady turned out to be a mole that was sent to steal some important documents from him. She succeeded in stealing the documents without him knowing and when he got to realize thoes documents was missing, he went out in search for the lady. Adela turned out to be identical to the lady Alec was searching for. Adela was a lady with the hope and dream of becoming a Nun just like her godmother who raised her in a convent home. She had never had issues with the world outside the convent home but it turned out her story was a twisted one. After being kidnapped and locked up by a mafia leader who accused her something she had no idea of, including the video clips of the lady who locked identical to her. She had no idea someone outside had the same facial look as her. How then is she going to prove her innocent to the ruthless mafia leader.

After being suspended from three schools, Christiana’s devoted mother sends her to a strict convent school, hoping faith and discipline will change her rebellious ways. But instead of finding redemption, Christiana creates a dangerous double life. By day, she walks the holy halls in silence. By night, she slips into the shadows, chasing freedom and temptation. With one friend urging her to change and another pulling her deeper into darkness, Christiana must choose who she wants to become — the daughter her mother prays for, or the girl who refuses to be saved.

My mom loves using me as her bargaining chip to buy her way into heaven. My haute couture dresses, my original sketches, my entire trust fund allowance—the second I look away, she hands them off to her church buddies or broke relatives. All in the name of "saving souls." Whenever I snap, she just acts all smug and self-righteous. "You ungrateful brat! I’m earning brownie points with God for you! It's the only way you’ll ever get into heaven!" The night before my final pitch for Global Lead Designer at L'Étoile, I warned her again and again. I told her not to touch a single thing of mine. Late that night, I caught her trying to sneak my car keys to our neighbor. I rushed over and snatched them back. She just stood there, acting totally innocent. "Your cousin and her friends are going to the new Disney resort tomorrow. She just wants to borrow the car. Is taking the early subway going to kill you?" "Do more good deeds, and God will bless you with that Lead Designer job." I shook with pure rage. "Taking two subways to HQ takes a full hour and a half! Tomorrow's pitch is my entire career! Do you even care?!" "Mom, I’m dead serious. You touch my car today, and we are done. Permanently." She muttered curses under her breath and slammed her bedroom door. The next morning, I saw my sports car still sitting in the garage. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Then I looked at my desk, and my blood ran ice-cold— My briefcase was gone. The one with my exclusive sketches, my encrypted flash drive, and my pitch credentials. Completely gone. I let out a bitter laugh. She thought she could hold my life hostage forever in the name of "holy virtue." But little did she know, this time, I’m kicking open the gates of hell for her. Since she’s so desperate to get into heaven, I’ll personally send her to prison to cleanse her soul first!

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".