A Stepmother's Marchen Novels & Stories

Suddenly, I heard footsteps on the stairs. As my stepmother walked down the stairs, it was clear that the alcohol she had consumed had not affected her at all. Her steps were sure and steady, and she held herself with a rigid posture. There was no sign of the swaying or slurred speech that I had expected. Instead, she looked focused and alert, and her gaze was fixed on me with a dangerous intensity. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up as she approached me. I took a deep breath and looked up at my stepmother, keeping my face expressionless.

I let my sentence trail off. “Fucking? Yeah, I do.” I’d wondered the same, so it’s nice to know I’m not the only one. “See, it’s weird.” “Oh, it’s weird, but they’re after something, and it’s more than Brock wanting you. I’m sure that added fuel to the fire of resentment your stepmother has for you.” “I don’t have anything she wants,” I point out. Besides that, my stepmother is beautiful. “You might think that, but that doesn’t make it true.”

At the center of them, a woman stepped forward, her red gown trailing behind her like spilled blood. My stepmother. She looked exactly as I remembered—tall, regal, and terrifying. Her dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she approached. The years hadn’t changed her cruelty, only sharpened it. "Cassia," she purred, her voice as smooth as silk. "My dear, foolish child." My breath hitched. Every muscle in my body screamed to run, to fight, but my feet were frozen to the ground. "Let me go," I said, forcing steel into my voice. "I don't belong to you."

This was what made me know that I didn't escape from him. Yara, my stepmother hissed badly. It seems she wasn't pleased by it. As far as I know, if she has set her mind on something she definitely will go at any length to get what she wants and I know I could not escape from her. . Her tiny voice was like nails on a chalkboard as she spouted out hardly.

“Lucy, you’re saying you saw some man leave the yard gate unlocked?!” Dad stood outside the gate, his bloodshot eyes locked onto me. I sneered inwardly. Look at how much he loved my younger brother, Ethan. In my previous life, I explained over and over that I had locked the gate properly. However, he only believed the pillow talk whispered by my stepmother, Mary, and decided that I was the one who caused the death of his only son.

From her perch on the sofa, the Moreaux matriarch sagged slightly before offering a tight nod. "Your choice to make." "Mother!" Tema's shriek cut through the room like shattered glass. She whirled toward the Moreaux matriarch, her designer gown swirling dramatically. "How can you just stand by while he makes this kind of mistake?" Her venomous gaze snapped to me. "That scheming little bitch must have bewitched him in there!" The elderly woman merely sighed, smoothing her skirt. "Enough, Tema." Her quiet authority carried more weight than her daughter-in-law's hysterics.

he said in a deep voice. Leaning weakly against his chest, I spoke hoarsely. "My face hurts so much. Why did you come so late?" Lukas stared at the scene before him. His eyes were bloodshot. "Dad, please let Isabella go. I was wrong, okay?" "You finally know you were wrong? It's too late." Cain sneered. He looked at Lukas briefly. "Lukas, I'm officially informing you that I've already marked Cecilia. From this moment on, Cecilia is your mother. Watch your tone when you speak to her."

Sarah took Jane’s hand and then she smiled at her, a smile that only a mother could give, a smile filled with love. “Is something wrong, Mom?” “I’m just checking up on you. You’ve been so quiet since we moved in. I know it’s a big change and that things are different here. I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I just want you to be happy.” Sarah stroked Jane’s hair and she closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m just glad you’re happy, Mom.” “Your happiness matters too. Is everything okay? Are you getting along with your new stepbrother? I saw the glares between your friend and Reid yesterday.”

It's exhausting. Aggressively, I turned my back at them and was about to leave. I can’t explain how fast my stepmother was. It was like a flash of light. She caught me by my gown, she turned me with it. “Don’t you dare pass your aggression on my child. She only asked a simple question”.

Delicate, polished, enviably untouchable. “Do you remember what I told you?” I asked, stepping into the room, my arms folded across my chest. “You are Grace; from this moment forward, Leila Marrow does not exist to you. And I…” I took a deep breath and continued. “I am your stepmother.” Leila turned her gaze to me, her lips curved into that obedient smile she had mastered. “Of course, Mother. I understand everything you told me last night.” “Very well, then.” I gave her a slight nod. “When it’s time, I’ll send someone to fetch you. Stay in this room until then. No unexpected movements.''