Novel & Cerita Baxter Family Tree Karen Kingsbury

The day after the new year, during a family gathering, my aunt sneered at me as I worked overtime, reviewing a proposal. "Why are you pretending to be so busy? It’s not like we don’t know you only make three thousand a month. Real money-makers are people like my daughter, a designer so successful she doesn’t even have time to come home!" I ignored her, but she directed her spoiled son to delete all my files while I was in the bathroom. My hands trembled with rage. "This proposal is due in ten minutes—if I don’t submit it, everything is ruined!" She scoffed dismissively. "He’s just a kid. What could he possibly know? Besides, your job isn’t even worth much. If you lose the files, you lose them. Worst case, you get fired." I chuckled coldly but said nothing. She had no idea it was the proposal her daughter had spent an entire month working on. And I was the client who held her daughter’s fate in my hands.

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"

My twin sister, Stella, was an Omega. She discovered she was a dead ringer for the beloved Luna from the neighboring pack. She was sick of being a nobody. A ridiculous idea emerged in her mind. She would kill the Luna, take her place, and mate with Alpha Andrew. I couldn't let it happen.I saved the Luna, but it cost me everything. "Are you jealous that my face is more beautiful than yours and want to lose my precious chance? You bitch!" " I think my sister has gone crazy. Stella locked me in the cellar. She tortured me with silver poison for seventeen days until I died. I woke up again. Back at the Hunting Ritual. The exact moment she set a feral wolf on the Luna. But I was still too late. I watched as Stella rushed forward. She forced a lethal dose of black silver powder down the wounded Luna's throat. When the news of the Luna’s death came, my Omega parents celebrated with Stella. "Our Stella is going to be the next Luna! We're finally going to have it all! No one will ever look down on us again!" But they had no idea. Alpha Andrew had been pulling the strings all along.

My parents were award-winning teachers, having nurtured countless outstanding students. However, I had always been the last in line, failing every single class. After yet another gentle warning from my homeroom teacher, my dad finally snapped. "How did I end up with a kid this dumb? You're deliberately trying to torture me, aren't you?" He disappeared for three days. When he returned, he had a boy with him. "From today on, Josh is the only true child of this family. You are no longer allowed to call us Mom and Dad. "Get out! You'll only earn the right to be my son once you can actually pass your exams." The next time I saw them was at the hospital during a check-up organized by their school for all the staff. The head of guidance recognized me immediately. "Yale? Isn't this Shane from your family? "He works here now. And Josh's condition, there's hope for him! You should have him contact the new Dr. Cunningham right away." Seeing me in my white coat, my dad's expression shifted again and again. "This kid… switched jobs and didn't even tell me." I subtly used my coat to cover the badge hanging on my chest. It read: Department Director: Asher Cunningham

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

A leisure run in the forests leads Caleb, Alpha of the Duncan pack, to an unexpected find. Faced with a mate he had longed assumed non-existent, Caleb not only has to teach her how to live with her wolf, he also has to find those who caused her harm. He'll need his pack, her family and self control, to get through the coming challenges. Attacked, turned, and far from home, Cassandra Patrice wakes up to a strange woman, a man she finds herself incredibly drawn to, and a voice in her head. Learning of the existence of wolves is one thing, but realizing she has also become one may be too much for her fragile mind to digest. Will this fate be more than Cassandra can handle? Or will her mate be just the right person to help her through it?

I was the real son, finally found and brought back by my billionaire parents, only to be diagnosed with leukemia right after. The only person who matched my bone marrow was the adopted son, Doug Daniel. So my parents rushed to bring him back into the family, making him my donor. To make it up to him, they did everything they could for him. My parents handed over the inheritance. My fiancée, Moira Stevens, hovered around him every day. When the pain got so bad that I could barely stand it, my parents pointed at me and snapped, "Jay! You keep bringing up your illness. Are you really that eager to take away Doug's health?" Moira, a medical school professor, didn't hold back either. "I'm a doctor. You think I don't understand your condition? You act like you're dying every single day. You just can't stand that we're being nice to Doug." On the day of the transplant, I lay on the operating table and waited. But Moira, the one in charge of harvesting Doug's marrow, never came in. I closed my eyes and waited for death. None of them knew I had already signed up to donate my body.

When I was ten, my mother married into the Corleone family, and I followed her into that house. Before Vincent Corleone learned to hate me, he had once treated me like a real little sister. Later, he became the one who hurt me most. He believed my mother had driven his own mother to her death, and from that day on, he made sure I paid for it. Humiliation, contempt, cruelty—he never spared me any of it. Then Leo Moretti, Vincent’s closest friend, confessed that he loved me. I thought he was my way out. I was wrong. The morning after I gave him my first time, I overheard him speaking to Vincent behind a half-closed door. “I got the photos from her first night,” Leo said quietly. “Are you really going to make them public?” Vincent’s voice was cold enough to freeze my blood. “She owes my mother a life. If I can’t take that, then I’ll make sure she pays another way. I want her ruined.” That was the moment I understood. The tenderness had been fake. The love had been a trap. And the man I had trusted most had been waiting all along to destroy me. What they didn’t know was that two weeks earlier, I had already received an invitation from Professor Evans at the world’s top international medical research institute. So this time, I left first. And I was never coming back.

My three-year-old son looked nothing like my husband. Suspicious, my father-in-law secretly took my son for a paternity test. The results showed that there was no biological relationship between them. Furious and humiliated, my father-in-law erupted in anger, hurling insults at me and even threatening to kill us. My husband, just as enraged, slapped me hard across the face. "You shameless wrench! You've made me raise another man's child for three years!" As I stared at their accusing faces, I calmly produced another report—the paternity test between my husband and his father. It confirmed they weren't biologically related either. Their expressions froze in shock. With a faint smile, I said, "Looks like we don't know for sure who isn't part of this family, do we?"

My wife transplanted the donor heart I had waited for two years for to the fake heir, Sean Morgan. The doctor said I only had one week left to live, so I decided to freeze my body. I donated my body to Sean's lab. On the day I signed the donation letter, my daughter threw herself into my arms and said I had finally made up with her uncle. My parents praised me for finally understanding the deep bond and mutual support between brothers. My wife said with relief, "You've finally let go of your grudges and become an understanding person." I smiled gently. "Yes, this time I’ve really learned my lesson. I will return the status of the Morgan family heir to Sean and fulfill your wishes.”