How Old Is Yo Mama 소설 & 이야기

He is a CEO who once had autism, and in a hollow world, only she can make him feel at ease. Because of her, overnight, he destroyed the city's largest nightclub; because of her, he took a series of stunningly beautiful photos that caused a sensation. He domineeringly keeps her by his side, destroying the things she likes, all because he wants to earn her favor. She feels unlucky and miserable, he is like a madman, obstinate and resolute. His crazy possessiveness frightens her. When she asked him to let her go, she never expected him to actually agree...

"I saved his life with a lie. Now, I have to live it—or die in his bed." Noah Bennett is a nobody, a starving survivor in a kingdom of ice. When he finds the poisoned, half-dead King Ethan Walker in a frozen ravine, he makes a desperate, split-second choice to secure his future. He pitches his voice high, binds his chest, and claims to be a maiden named Abigail. He expected a reward and a quiet escape. He didn’t expect the King to wake up with a terrifying, soul-deep obsession. Now, the "Angel of the Ravine" has been brought to the palace in a carriage of gold and silk. Ethan Walker is a man of cold steel and dark hungers, a King who pampers his "Abigail" with a devotion that feels like a chokehold. He wants his savior. He wants a Queen. And he wants her—him—in his bed before the moon turns full. As the wedding bells toll, the stakes reach a breaking point: The Lie: One torn gown or one slipped word will lead Noah to the executioner’s block. The Lust: Ethan’s touch is electric, a "Good Turn Bad" obsession that makes Noah’s heart hammer for all the wrong reasons. The Trap: The King’s traitorous brother is watching, the General is suspicious, and the Silver Wolf of the north is howling for the truth. In a court of vipers, Noah is playing the most dangerous game in Aethelgard. He must navigate the King’s possessive "Silk Noose" while hiding the truth beneath his robes. But as Ethan leans in to claim his "bride's" neck, Noah realizes the most terrifying secret of all: The King might already know. And he might like the lie even better than the truth.

After helping illegitimate son Clifford Johansen rise to fame, Seraphine Lodge gets ruthlessly discarded. Clifford turns around and proposes to his "true love" with a fireworks show worth hundreds of millions. He also indulges her as she makes Seraphine's mother, Andrea Lodge, die from a heart attack. He robs Seraphine of her identity as a true heiress without remorse. Seraphine gives her heart to the wrong man, but she doesn't scream or cry. Instead, she dumps the scumbag, pockets 200 million dollars in breakup fees, and watches her career soar. But Clifford refuses to let her go. He ruins her reputation, turning public opinion against her. Seraphine doesn't bow to power or cruelty. Anyone who dares cross her gets a taste of her revenge, which comes swiftly and brutally. Sweet revenge is satisfying, but an even sweeter thrill arrives one night while cloaked in moonlight. A tall, commanding figure approaches, radiating elegance and dominance. It's Elliott Johansen, the heir to Dirkane's most prominent family. He's powerful, untouchable, and feared by all. Seraphine freezes. Then comes his low, magnetic voice in her ear, "Sera, leave the violence to me. If you get hurt, my heart will ache." Her heart skips a beat. He continues, "Be good. We'll go home together once I'm through with them."

Liam, my stepbrother, has been a pain in the rear for three years. We fight every time we talk. Every time we see each other, we remember that moment, which we never talk about. The one in the yard behind where our parents had their wedding dinner. The event that almost made everything bad. Our parents are now going for a trip to celebrate their first anniversary, leaving us all alone in the house. Simple plan: we'll stay on different sides, ignore each other, and act like we're working. But then there's a fire on my side of the house, and all of a sudden I have to share a floor, a hallway, and a wall that is too thin to be safe with him. The worst times are at night. I hear him. I can feel him. And every disagreement ends too close. Every stare stays too long. Every breath turns into heat I can’t escape. We’re supposed to protect our parents’ happiness. We’re supposed to act like good brothers. But how do you pretend you hate someone when all you want is to drag him into your bed? Then the holidays arrive with our whole extended family. We’re forced to play perfect boys while nearly pulling each other apart behind locked doors. And just when I think things can’t get worse, Liam’s cheating ex shows up begging to take him back. The jealousy nearly wrecks me… and reveals everything. But the real disaster hits one night with a broken condom and a hurried hospital visit. Two scary weeks that make us imagine a life we’re not supposed to want. A future that feels too good to lose. The test is negative. But the damage is done. We want each other.

Even though I was the one who broke my ribs in the car accident, my boyfriend Jared decided to take care of his drunk ex-girlfriend instead. When I called to ask him to spend time with me in the hospital, he berated me. “Why are you so clingy? Can’t you tell that Isabelle needs me right now? “You’re a nurse, aren’t you? What, you can’t even take care of yourself now?” Heartbroken, I suggested we break up, only to be met with anger. “I was going to propose to you, you know? Considering how influential my family business is, I need to make sure I choose my wife wisely. “Today was a test to see if you have what it takes to be the next Mrs. Carter. I thought you would be independent and selfless. I expect my future wife to have my back no matter what. “Look at yourself now. You can’t even take care of yourself over something so insignificant! I’m disappointed, Charmaine.” The next day, he posted a picture of himself and his ex-girlfriend on social media. The image’s caption was targeted at me: [You’d better think twice and apologize, Charmaine, or I’ll just date someone else.] I did not apologize. I had had enough of him, so I left the city. Three years later, I saw him again in the lobby of the Financial Tower. I was wearing a heavy onesie costume and sporting a full face of cosplay makeup, while he was wearing an expensive suit and had Isabelle hanging delicately from his arm. He recognized me immediately and laughed. “I knew you never moved on from me, Charmaine! Does it hurt to know I’ll be marrying someone else? “That’s what you’re doing here, right? You’re trying to cosplay as my favorite Marvel character to get my attention. “Maybe I’ll consider taking you back if you kneel and apologize.” I did not deign to reply. I had indeed loved him once upon a time, but today was my son’s birthday, and the cosplay was my surprise for him...

The day my little brother had his asthma attack, I poured every drop of his nebulizer medication down the bathroom sink. When Mom burst into the bathroom, the empty bottle was still dripping in my hand. Cradling my gasping brother in her arms, she slapped me across the face so hard that my ears rang. "You're only eight years old! How can you be this evil? Would you finally be happy if he died?" I wanted to tell her that the medicine was not the right one. The bottle smelled like harsh, burning bleach. The new nanny, Sophia, had grabbed the wrong bottle from the cleaning closet. But Mom didn't let me finish. She grabbed my arm, dragged me into the unfinished walk-in closet and locked the door from the outside. "You can come out when you realize your brother's life is more important than your petty jealousy." Outside, Dad was screaming while rushing my brother to the ER. Inside, I mistakenly knocked my foot over a plastic construction bucket and a thick, toxic white liquid began to puddle over my bare feet. I clawed at the door gap with my fingernails, sobbing, begging for Mom. The next morning, the hospital called. They confirmed that my brother's medication was laced with industrial cleaner. That was the exact moment Mom finally remembered that the key to the closet I was locked in was still sitting in her purse…

Jamie is a single mother consumed by the guilt of her past. She abandoned her kind, stable boyfriend, Larry, for her baby's reckless father, only to be left alone and struggling with the consequences. Jobless and desperate, she is forced to swallow her pride and beg Larry—the man whose heart she betrayed—for employment assistance.

My husband did not love me, and he certainly did not love our child. On the day our son was born, he did not even glance at him. He merely tossed him into my arms. Then, his first love came back from overseas. That night, the ever-cold Henry had gotten drunk for the first time. He even smiled as he held our child in his arms. Delighted, our son wrapped his little arms around my husband's neck and asked me in a soft voice, “Mommy, what’s wrong with Uncle?” I crouched down, pulling him into my embrace. My eyes reddened as I explained, “Uncle's favorite person came back, so we shouldn’t bother him anymore. We’re going to find a new home.”

When Ethan Reed shoves divorce papers across the anniversary dinner Mia Thompson spent hours preparing, he believes he's trading up — swapping his quiet schoolteacher wife for her glamorous best friend and the "power couple" image his investors demand. What he doesn't know: the woman he's throwing away funded his entire empire with her dead parents' life insurance money — and still owns 45% of the company he just sold for $25 million. For six years, Mia paid his loans, wrote his pitch decks, and worked two jobs while he coded his dreams into reality. She loved him enough to carry his child alone for eight weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to tell him. That moment came in a doorway — divorce papers in one hand, her best friend smirking behind him in a red dress. She signed. She walked out. She collapsed in a hospital parking lot and lost the baby no one knew existed. Some men burn down the wrong house. Some women have to lose everything before they realize they were holding the match the whole time. And some betrayals come with a price tag — exactly $25 million, plus interest.

I cradled Chloe’s newborn, filled with joy and affection. The baby was not blood of mine, yet as Chloe’s best friend, I would love and protect the little one with everything I had. "Sweet boy," I whispered, gently tapping the tip of his nose. "I'm your godmother. No one would ever hurt you." The hospital room was washed in golden afternoon light. Adrian stood by the window in a dark overcoat, his profile sharp against the glass. He looked exactly like the man the whole industry knew: controlled, elegant, untouchable. Hollywood's golden producer. My newlywed husband. Then he said, in a voice as flat as if he were discussing a contract, "He's not your godson. He's my son." For a second, I thought I had misheard him. Maybe I was just exhausted from the wedding, from the endless calls and fittings and congratulations. I almost laughed. But Adrian turned around. A cruel little smile curved his lips. "The child is mine," he said again. My arms tightened around the baby. "The night you got hurt," he went on, "I was with Chloe the whole night. We went through an entire box... apparently this little guy still found a way to arrive." I couldn't move. It felt as if ice water had been poured down my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. After a long silence, I finally managed to whisper, "But... we only registered our marriage yesterday." Adrian walked over and put an arm around my shoulders, almost gently. His tone was soft, but it carried the kind of condescension people used with a child throwing a tantrum. "Don't worry. Chloe and I were never going to get married. If I had wanted to marry her, I would have done it years ago." He paused, and something almost pleased flashed in his eyes. "Didn't Chloe ever tell you? We had a history. I was her first."