Romans & histoires Devils Son In Law

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

Today, I am going to marry the man I love, Damon Mark Olson. We didn’t have it easy. I am the veritable Cinderella and he was my handsome prince. People frowned on our relationship. Even his mother never failed to show her dislike for me at every opportunity. But Damon fought hard for me. At the church, I heard the first notes of Pachelbel's Canon in D and started my bridal walk. Damon looked dapper in his suit but he looked distracted, and his hair looked kind of mussed. Tenderness swept over me. When I reached his side, he took my hand. An electric current coursed through our connected skin. Damon looked startled, and I almost laughed, The priest gave us his blessings. And to Damon, he said, “You may now kiss your bride.” I held my breath as Damon very gently lifted my veil. Our eyes connected, and I saw a swirling mass of emotions in his gaze before his head dipped and gave me a kiss that jarred me. He kissed expertly, too expertly, that my eyes flew to his face. And that was when realization sank in. I was not kissing Damon Mark Olson. I was kissing someone who looked exactly like him.

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

On the day I left for a business trip, my son, Billy Smith, livestreamed his suicide attempt from our home. While I took my time shopping at the mall, my younger sister, Lori Chaney, and my husband, Greg Smith, were beside themselves with panic. By the time I got the call from Lori, I dropped everything at work and rushed home. However, I reached home to see Billy sobbing into the camera. “Mom, whenever Dad isn’t home, you bring Mr. Scott into the house. After that, you’d force me to keep it a secret. When I refused to play along, you abused me in every way you could! I also found the medical report in your nightstand. You have AIDS, but you never told Dad. I’m ashamed to have a disgusting woman like you as my mother!” Billy then jumped from the building and landed on the rescue airbag without a scratch. I, however, became the target of public outrage. I tried to clear my name, but no one believed me. After all, who would risk his own life just to frame his mother? Greg even brought me a glass of poisoned milk and forced me to drink it. He then told everyone that I had committed suicide out of shame. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been sent back in time to the day Billy threatened to kill himself.

Paige got pregnant by a bad boy in high school. Two years later, after many sacrifices and without having any contact other than phone calls, she and the father of her child reunite. Can they live together for the sake of their shared child? Can the bad boy not be so bad?

In our five years of marriage, I had given in to my husband, John, for a grand total of three times. The first time was during my pregnancy. He had taken his ex-girlfriend Stacy, who had once taken three bullets for him, back home and cared for her. When I became angry, he immediately sent her away once she recovered. The second time was after childbirth, when I was ready to return to work. To repay a favor, he gave the position I had worked years for to Stacy. He said it was so I could rest well. I looked at my son, who needed me, and I conceded. The third time was during our son’s birthday. In front of the entire company, he had announced that Stacy was his wife, all so she could establish herself in the company. I gave him two choices: divorce or send her away. Without hesitation, he chose the latter and immediately sent her abroad. The fourth time was when my father suddenly had a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. He disappeared again. I searched everywhere for him to cover the hospital expenses, and I finally discovered that he had gone to the airport to pick up a pregnant Stacy, who was returning to the country. Because of that, my father missed the best chance for treatment and died. I was done giving in. I disguised the divorce agreement as our son’s medical bill and tricked him into signing it. No compensation or apology would matter. I did not wish to have him near my son or myself again.

Aurora Gray has always lived under the control of her cunning stepmother, Joanne, and is now forced into an engagement with the ruthless Patrick Hayes. But when Patrick's enigmatic elder brother, Dominic, enters the picture, Aurora finds herself drawn into a dangerous game of forbidden love. In a web of deceit and betrayal, Aurora uncovers secrets about her family's past, including the truth about Leo Levine-a man intent on vengeance upon the Grays. Danger draws near, and Aurora must make a choice between love, loyalty, or survival before the truth destroys them all.

My mom decides to implement an income-based rationing system. Everything at home is delegated to everyone based on their income. At a holiday dinner, I decide to grab myself an extra helping of pasta. As soon as I fill up my plate, my mom snatches it from my hands. "Hold on. Just look at the spread on the table. The sea bass is already worth 180 dollars. The scallops are worth 200, whereas the lobster goes for 300 dollars. "You only earn 3,000 dollars per month. If you want a second serving, you must pay up first. I'll charge you based on the family rate. It'll be three dollars, thank you very much." My mom sticks out three fingers while smiling at me.

It was the night of my husband's and my third anniversary, and I had gotten home early. I caught him in bed with another woman—for the tenth time. But unlike the previous times, I did not throw a tantrum. I even closed the door to the master bedroom quietly, not wanting to interrupt. In Scott Jameson's eyes, I had no choice but to tolerate his cheating because I became Mrs. Jameson by getting pregnant with his child. Three months later, he flung divorce papers at me. "My young lover wants me to give her a home and to bear my son. Sign the papers." I looked into his cold, distant eyes and said with conviction, "All right. All I want is custody of our son. I don't want a cent of the Jamesons' money." The court proceedings were difficult, and I was accused of being mentally unstable. Many people made fun of me for not knowing my place. All of Cloverton was waiting for me to humiliate myself, counting the seconds until a nobody like me succumbed to desperation. However, I fought the case with everything I had. Eventually, I was finally able to leave with my son. No one knew that Scott suffered from a serious case of asthenozoospermia. His sperm were completely useless. No other woman could have Scott's baby except me, as I happened to be unusually fertile. My son would be the only heir to the Jameson family legacy.

When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately went to buy abortion pills. When I decided to take the pills, I could hear my unborn son’s heartbeat. [Mom, please don’t abort me! I can bring you fortune!] [My dad is super rich. He loves simping and chasing women.] [He goes after innocent and strong-willed women. He gives away gifts freely, but the women usually would throw them away. I know where these thrown away gifts are!] I thought I must be crazy. I hurriedly swallowed the pills and drank water. [Several hundred grams of gold! The latest handphone! Tens of millions of jewelry! What’s more…] I gagged and spat out the pills into the trashbin next to my feet. “Where are they? Tell me now!"