Countryhumans Uk Family

My almost 50-year-old mother-in-law has recently gotten a new boyfriend. He's young, handsome, and has washboard abs. Just as I think she's finally hit the jackpot and found her true love, he climbs into my bed in the middle of the night…

When Callum abandoned me, feverish and shivering on a mountain road, just to watch a meteor shower with the young woman he had raised, I decided to divorce him. His good friend, Emmet, advised him to try winning me back. "Look Cal, sisters are sisters, but a wife takes priority. You’d better not mix up what matters most." Callum, however, dismissed the idea with a confident smile. "She’s bluffing. Does she really think she’ll go through with the divorce?" "All these years, I’ve given her a place to belong. Without me, she wouldn’t even have a home. Leave me? She wouldn’t dare.  "Just wait. Before the cooling-off period ends, she’ll come back crying and begging me to take her in."  But thirty days passed, and I never looked back. While he scoured the world searching for me, I sipped tea in a misty mountain villa, utterly at peace. "James," I remarked to my step-brother, "your place truly feels like home."

After my husband's death, I long for him so much that it becomes a mental condition. To put me out of my misery, my in-laws order a custom-made robot to be my companion. But I'm only more sorrowed when I see the robot's face—it's exactly like my late husband's. Everything changes when I accidentally unlock the robot's hidden functions. Late at night, 008 kneels before my bed and asks, "Do you need my third form of service, my mistress?"

The silver blade sliced across my throat, and I collapsed in a spreading pool of blood. I called Ethan ninety-nine times. My brother ignored every single call, but on the ninety-ninth try, he finally picked up. “What now?” Irritation dripped from every word. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already? I’m in the middle of planning Lyra’s coming-of-age ceremony, and if you don’t show up, I’ll make you regret it.” “Ethan, please—help me—” My voice came out broken and ragged. He hung up. I tried reaching through our blood bond, desperate for him to feel something—anything at all—but he’d severed that connection two years ago. My phone battery was dying, and I watched the last bar flicker before the screen went black. I stopped struggling. The silver blade pierced my heart, and my wolf let out one final whimper before she died with me. Days later, the patrol found a body. The face was destroyed beyond recognition, torn apart and mangled. But Ethan still recognized the scar on the wrist—the one he’d sworn he would never forget.By then, it was too late.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Mom, help! Dad locked me in the car!" It was 2:00 pm in the blazing heat of a summer afternoon, and my heart stopped when I heard my daughter's panicked voice. I immediately began searching for my daughter, but my husband sounded impatient when he answered my call. "Holly's in a bad mood. I'm taking her to the amusement park. Why are you overreacting? She'll be fine." He sounded annoyed and hung up immediately after he was done speaking. The dial tone buzzed in my ear, but all I could think was that he'd better pray nothing happened to her.

My mate Fenris and my brother Caspian are the two most powerful Alphas in the Southern Territory. They used to spoil me rotten, and I was once the most cherished princess of the pack. But then I was thrown into prison and tortured for two long years. Three years ago, I was attacked by rogues and nearly died of silver poisoning. Selene stepped forward and claimed she was willing to undergo a full blood transfusion to save me. I survived, but Selene lost her wolf in the process and became a mere Omega. From that day on, Fenris and Caspian brought Selene home, swearing to treat her like their own sister. At first, I was grateful to her. But slowly, she started "accidentally" falling whenever we were alone. When Fenris and Caspian would come running, she’d cry and tell them it must have been an accident, begging them not to blame me. I tried to explain myself, but Fenris and Caspian never believed me.

My best friend and I go to a music festival together. There, my brother's girlfriend locks me in the toilet. "Young women these days are so shameless—I can't believe you had the nerve to seduce my CEO boyfriend! I'm going to teach you a lesson today since your parents obviously didn't raise you right!" She refuses to listen to my explanation. She pours dirty water all over me before slapping me in public and stripping me. Then, she brands me with an insult. By the time my brother arrives, I'm tormented beyond recognition. "I can explain, Spencer! I thought you were lying when you said she was your sister!"

Around the seventh month of my pregnancy, I overheard a conversation between my mate, Zane Andrews, and Ciara Phillips, the she-wolf I had taken in out of compassion after her family was brutally slaughtered by rogues. In a sultry, flirtatious tone, Ciara purred, “Zane, my love, if your wife discovers that the fertilized egg I planted in her womb isn’t truly hers by blood, she’ll be devastated—perhaps to the point of despairing suicide, don’t you think?” Zane snorted, his voice dripping with disdain at the mention of me. “It’ll work for us if she simply dies from heartbreak. Damn it. I can’t shake the worry that she might sever our bond and leave me with nothing. Let’s keep this under wraps until our child inherits all her assets. Only then will we reveal the bombshell, plunging her into darkness.” Ciara giggled, praising Zane for his cunning. My claws itched to lash out, but I held back, knowing the time for confrontation wasn’t yet. My heart sank as their betrayal cut deep. Years ago, I had defied my pack elders’ warnings about Ciara being a potential threat, taking her in and grooming her into our pack's doctor, funding her education out of sheer empathy. Now, I regretted every moment of my kindness. To think that my mate, who had once begged for my protection for his fragile pack, had the audacity to betray me. If not for my support, his pathetic pack would have crumbled long ago, leaving him nursing his wounds in a dark corner, fretting over survival. After a long moment of contemplation, I made my decision. I would feign ignorance to their schemes and play along by giving birth to Ciara’s baby. Two decades passed. Ciara’s child grew up, bearing the name Simon Andrews. Aware of their treachery, I still transferred all my assets to him. Once the paperwork was completed, Ciara boldly approached me in front of the entire pack, a maternity DNA test in hand. With a smug smile, she declared, “Leia Holland, look at this! I am Simon’s biological mother. Leave h

In the final seven days after I decided to depart for good, I transformed into the daughter my family had always dreamed of. I conceded to Remy's every whim, never to fight or deny her. When she wanted to use my work for a contest, I deferred. When she wanted me out in the frost and howling wind, I did just that. My quiet compliance led my family to think that I had learned the error of my ways. "You've finally accepted that you owe Remy so much, and that you have to compensate her!" Even until the end, they never understood why I couldn't care less. "Fiona, why aren't you saying anything?" To that, I could only smile. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

The day my mom was beaten up for being a mistress, I slammed the family crest into my dad’s face. I had been studying abroad, and on my return flight, I came across a video. The title read, [Richest Family’s Heirs Defend Their Mom and Beat Up Mistress.] In the video, my mother was wearing coarse linen clothes while my brothers surrounded her. They were punching and kicking her. They even tore her clothes and cussed her out as a shameless mistress. Her eyes were teary as she desperately tried to explain. However, she was only met with mocking laughter. A stranger in haute couture stood shielded behind them, and she sweetly said, “Alright, I know you’re doing this for me, but we don’t need to waste our time on ungrateful people.” The surrounding guests showered her with birthday wishes and praised her for her graciousness. “This is the grace befitting Mrs. Roth! Do some people really not own a mirror at home?” “A mistress dares to call herself Mrs. Roth? Doesn’t she know the entire Roth family was built on her assets? Which part of her looks like a lady?” Hearing them call her “Mrs. Roth,” I clenched my phone, and the screen reflected my icy expression. I had only been away from home for three years. How did I not know that I had acquired such a despicable “mother”?