Don't Call Me Stepmom Book Novels & Stories

CHAPTER ONE "Get yourself down here this instant, Jane I've been dreading this call ever since mom announced that her "husband" will be coming to get us. After Dad died, I expected Mom to get married again, I just didn't realize it would be so soon. I mean it's barely two years since he died and she already about to get married to another man. Before the wedding however, we will be moving into my, I suppose I should call him stepfather, stepfather's house. Something about it being easier after all the wedding stress and the honeymoon or some bullshit mom came up with.

I have been getting calls from influencers all over the world to attend the empire summit gala tomorrow as a date. The door clicks open and Barbara, my step-mother walks in, dressed in her Camel max mara coat, her thick blonde hair wrapped into a bun, her stilettos click on the marble floor as she makes her way over to me. “Devon,” She says brightly, “You have been ignoring my calls for the past few days, why?” I open my notebook, pressing my pen. “I didn’t realize that talking to you gratifies our relationship,” “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, Devon. I am your moth- step-mother,” She corrects herself; “I love you.”

The day felt endless, and all she wanted was a shower and her bed. "My little brother says you only married Dad because Victoria's our sister, but that you don't actually love us," Gabriel explained. "Is that true, Nathan?" The older boy scowled and ignored her, climbing into bed. His brother followed. Realizing she wasn't going to get anything more out of him, she kissed Gabriel goodnight, and when she tried to do the same to Nathan, he dodged it. Being a stepmom was definitely not going to be easy. Diana left the room, ready to shower, change into something to sleep in, and finally lie down.

“I had no intention of doing anything of the sort.” “And no mean ladies either. I don’t need a new mom. I have a mom. You are looking for a girlfriend. Don’t look for a woman you think is going to make a good mom. I don’t want to cause problems, but I’m not interested in calling anyone stepmom.”

How would we-? I paused on seeing Mitchell pull her black overall up, swallowing hard and took a step back, already bracing myself to fight only for her to bring out a book. A large book and shove it in my hands. “I know you and the alpha are planning something but whatever it is, I’m sure this here will help you tremendously.” She says quietly, hands shaking as she spoke. “I can’t stay here long and have to go now but know. I don’t care what happens to my father but my mom and I, have to be safe” she says and paused, eyes filled with uncertainty and doubt.

' ‘Please tell Edmund, his personal assistant, that I want to see him,’ I said to Dad. ‘I will do that,’ Dad said and excused himself. ‘I noticed that you don't know what to call me. You can call me mum,’ my stepmom said smiling at me. I could see unshed tears in her eyes. ‘Are you crying mum?’ I asked and that broke the dam. She broke down in tears. ‘Someone almost took you from me again today. I wish I could get my hands on them and make a scapegoat out of them,’ she said, looking angry.

Is it because she is a cook here? Morgan looked at me with a smile, and I wondered if he knew what I was thinking. "She doesn't like to be called with respect," he said. The woman also nodded. "May I call you, Mum?" I asked. "Why?" Nikita asked. "I miss my stepmom," I replied. "Step mom? Didn't you have a mother?" She asked. "I never did," I said. Nikita looked at me with a sorrowful expression. "You can, but only Mr can accept," she said.

I ignore the caller and allow my phone to ring about two more times but there is no way you will expect me to focus on my work when Call by Joeboy -my ringtone- is invading my ears. I angrily walk up to my bed with every intention to curse the caller, and on picking the phone up, the name on the caller ID makes me more angry. Should I pick this pests call or not? I have no choice. "Hello Bimpe" I speak into the phone. Trying my possible best to sound as exhilarated as possible. "My love, I have something important to tell you. " she replies. Her voice low. So low it makes me feel the cold hands of fear grip the buttom of my heart.

"My father tells me you're a rare find. A saint among sinners." He squeezes my hand just a fraction too hard - a warning? It is a reminder of the bruises he’s left on my hips in the past, marks that are currently hidden by the modest silk of the dress Arthur bought for me. He leans in closer, his shadow swallowing me whole, the warmth of his breath ghosting against the shell of my ear. "Welcome to the family, Stepmother," he hisses. The title tastes like a threat. I can feel the weight of Arthur’s diamond on my finger, a ring that was supposed to be my ticket to freedom, now feeling like a branding iron.

She picked and she hung off the call. “Why didn't you pick your call?” I asked quietly, but I wasn't pleasant with it and my face was frowning already. She looked at my face, “babe you don't need to be angry at me.” She continued. “You don't know what I went through in my stepmom's hands. “I would rather not pick those wicked people's call.” “Your stepmom called you. Who call you?” I asked anxiously. “My dad.” she answered and her face squeezed.