Does Pure Vanilla Cookie Have A Son Novels & Stories

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.

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!"

I'm staring at this man who looks exactly like my husband, overwhelmed by fear, as I received a message that read, "He's not your husband!"What's even more bizarre is that the name displayed as the sender of the text on my phone is "My Dear Husband"!Who on earth should I believe?

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.

The school boxing match. My son Leo’s gloves were lined with broken glass. I carried him from the ring. Blood was everywhere, staining the canvas crimson. And Isabella, the monster behind it all, just stood there smirking. A snake's smile. She dragged her son over, then slapped me. Hard. Again and again. She tried to force me to my knees. "Some gutter trash like you… thinks he can challenge the Falcone heir? This is what happens. Believe me, I say the word, and you disappear. Poof." I just raised an eyebrow. The Falcone family has one heir this generation. My son, Leo. So when did a Falcone become gutter trash? I wiped the blood from my lip. I called the Don—the man my father made. "I hear the Falcone family has a new heir." Let's see who has the nerve to touch the old Don's grandson.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

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?

“Grandfather, please don't marry me off to this waste of space. He is just a lowlife that is sick, carrying diseases around, and being gross!” Ava said, getting more and more enraged with each word coming from her mouth. “That's enough! Ava, stop that right now!” Mrs. Taylor said. “Don’t order your grandfather!” “If you insist on giving Ava to me, I would walk out of here now and never look back. A woman like her is not something that interests me.” Zane said, his voice steady as he met the old man's eyes, his words pissing Ava and her parents off.

“He’s not yours,” I said, each word slicing through him like glass. Valentine stared at me, stunned, like I’d slapped him. Maybe I should’ve. That would’ve been easier than this. I thought I’d buried the past the day I ran—pregnant, heartbroken, and alone. Valentine Hale was the love of my life… until he shattered it. He never knew I was carrying his child. He never tried to find me. I raised our son alone. But fate doesn’t forget. Now I’m back in the one place I swore I’d never return to. And Valentine? He’s here. He’s looking at me like he still feels it. Valentine- She was human. Off-limits. But I touched her anyway. Loved her. Marked her. Then I walked away before the pack could find out. Before I destroyed us both. But now, Vivian’s back—with a kid who smells like me. But now I bear a secret, a curse from my father the previous alpha and I cannot risk their lives. I need to protect them. I need them. I feel it in my blood. He’s mine. She’s mine. They both always were.

…....I grabbed my bra, grabbed my heels, and ran before he could open his eyes and speak. I don’t want to hear it. I already knew what he'd say: “Please don’t tell my wife.” He doesn’t need to beg. I won’t tell her. I was never going to. But that doesn’t make this feel any better. ************************** Lana's life is turned upside down after a drunk one-night stand with her best friend’s husband leaves her pregnant. She runs away to a small town and starts a new life with her twin children. But when the truth comes out, everything falls apart. Lee, her best friend's husband, finds out he's the father of one twin, but the other twin’s paternity brings shocking news. As Lana struggles to protect her kids, Vicky, her best friend seeks revenge, Derek, her ex blackmails her, and a custody battle threatens everything. With her past catching up to her, Lana must face the truth to save her future, but can she survive it all? Will Lana have the strength to win?