Kitchen Momoi

Doris Albert，the Luna of the Red Moon Pack. But no one ever really respected her. Her husband constantly humiliates her, locks her in a small cell-like room and orders her to be the slave of his mistress... Doris has no way to resist, it only leads to worse whippings. And so two years passed... Until Doris' wolf, Shana, finally woke up after two years of slumber. A new story begins... *** As Doris continued to slice the chicken silently and precisely, the television above her head began to broadcast a major news announcement. "Now our spots have just received a message, the famous warrior goddess, Doris Albert, who disappeared two years ago, has made a surprise appearance today, announcing that she will soon be back in the public eye..." No one would have imagined that the terrifying Warrior Goddess on the television was now standing in a dirty kitchen, preparing a third-anniversary dinner for her husband and his mistress. And they'll have even less idea how the submissive and weak-looking Doris will tear them apart one by one...

Even before marrying Wayne Cooper, I knew he had a fierce sister-in-law. He would always tell me to never get into a fight with her. After we marry, we spend Christmas Eve at his parents' house for the first time. I'm forced to bustle around in the kitchen as I prepare a feast for over a dozen people. Meanwhile, Wayne's family lounges in the living room. They chatter away while enjoying the fruits I've washed and sliced. As I place the last dish on the table, Wayne's brother and sister-in-law, Kyle Cooper and Lucy Wren, arrive. When I want to take my seat, I discover there isn't one for me. That's when Lucy snorts and says sarcastically, "I heard you're a good wife who's obedient and easygoing, Melanie. I have to say that your cooking is… mediocre, though." This infuriates me. I'm about to retort when she turns to my mother-in-law. She says, "I think you should do the cooking from now on, Gloria. Your food is delicious…"

Seven years into my secret marriage to Leon Ferrante—Don of the Ferrante Family—and he still wouldn't make it public. Before the vows, I was his Consigliere. Every arms deal went through me. After? Just another housewife. Swapped my holster for an apron. Kitchen counter became my war zone. He didn't want kids. Said he had to take care of his autistic little brother. I got it. So I gave it all up—for his Family, for that kid. The Family blew up fast. The kid? Went from blank stares to sharp comebacks. Even started talking. But Leon still kept me in the dark. His mother wouldn't quit. "Give him a healthy heir. He'll settle down." I thought maybe she was right. I clung to him for a few nights. I got pregnant. Came home with the results, ready to tell him— Then I heard his "autistic" brother ask, clear as day: "Papa, are you gonna divorce Anna and marry someone else?"

Julianna Macey, or Juls for short, is desperate to leave her parents' home. Living at home for her undergrad degree is ruining her social life and making it difficult for her to keep in touch with friends. So when her friend Carlo offers her the chance to move into a student apartment, she jumps at the chance. The only problem is that the available room is shared by his three friends Kyle, Mark, and Kent. As if living with three boys she's never met wasn't bad enough, Kent appears to despise her. When she's around, he makes a mess in the kitchen, never puts his laundry in the dryer, and acts as if she doesn't exist. Despite being good looking, Kent and Juls develop a fierce hatred for one another, and she begins to regret her decision to move in with them. However, because her lease still has a year to run, she is unable to leave. Juls begins to question whether living with boys has any benefits or if she acted prematurely. More importantly, she questions whether or not she and Kent will ever get along as well as why he despises her so much.

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

My mother-in-law is extremely frugal. She reuses paper others have discarded, carefully saving the unmarked portions. She even takes the black waste oil from the kitchen range hood and uses it to cook our meals. She says, "Frugality is a virtue—it brings blessings!" I try tirelessly to convince her otherwise, throwing out all her filthy items to protect my family's health. But while she praises me to my face, behind my back, she uses my baby's food scissors to clip her grimy toenails. My child eventually dies of a lung infection, leaving me heartbroken. My mother-in-law, however, points her finger at me, saying I'm unlucky and that I've brought misfortune to their family. Even my husband blames me. In the end, they use a knitting needle to pierce my throat and stab me to death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day I first see her picking up dirty paper. The first thing I do is hide all the high-quality tissue paper I had stocked up on before my pregnancy, pretending I knew nothing. She calls these blessings, right? Fine. The blessings of this miserly frugality—she can reap them all herself!

After the death of her mother Alice’s father found comfort in the nurse that took care of her. Everything happened so quickly and within what seemed seconds Alice was looked down upon in her family. Her father Karl drank almost every day, her stepmother Sarah treated her like a maid. Even worse, as she grew up, she started to feel a dirty gaze on her body from her stepbrother. Now she was older she was planning her escape. That was until her stepbrother found out the Alpha’s daughter is his mate. A big banquet was held and they invited many well-known alpha families. But Alice was not allowed to attend, she had to cook in the kitchen and to make things worse it was her 18 birthday. She was hoping to use the celebration as a way to sneak away and make her escape however her stepmother sent her to serve alcohol to some unexpected customers -the ruthless and barbaric Alpha Arkyn, the Alpha of Black Mountain pack. People said he turned into a cold-blood Alpha since he lost his Luna years ago. When Alice inside Alpha Arkyn’s room, she suddenly found a special scent from him. The scent is full of lust, and wonderful as heaven, it even made her dizzy. “Mate.” The ruthless Alpha growled.

Dark. Powerful. Dangerous. James Maxwell is one of the billionaire elites who rules Las Vegas City with an iron fist. You’re definitely worth two million, Mia. Think about it. Two million. Five years. Your brother will go free. It’s a contract. Those are the words of the gorgeous billionaire James Maxwell, the man who makes my heart race and my body tremble with longing. I want to refuse his proposal, but how can I? My brother owes him two million, and as dirt poor as we are, there’s no way we can find that much money to repay him. What’s worse, I think I’m falling in love with the man who thinks I’m just his mistress. My name is Mia Donovan, a twenty-two-year-old small-town girl working as a kitchen hand to make ends meet. My world is changing—both for the better and worse. James Maxwell, a gorgeous billionaire with beautiful Prussian-blue eyes, is the man behind this. He makes my heart flutter and my knees shake. When he kisses me, my world melts into a pool of exotic sensation. But his world is dark and dangerous, and being with him is a risk both to my life and my sanity. This is our story.

At 4:00 a.m., my husband, Rocco, gently shook me awake. His voice was a low murmur, . "Alessia, my love, could you do something for me?" But his next words shattered the illusion. "Scarlett is hungry. Go make her some seafood soup." Scarlett was our maid, and she was also Rocco's pregnant goomar. "I just had fresh seafood delivered. Get to the kitchen and make her a bowl of soup. Just for Falcone's heir." I refused, my voice cold. His anger flared in an instant. "Don't be so unreasonable, Alessia." "Is it really so hard for you to make some soup?" I shook my head, silent. He stroked my cheek, a patronizing smile playing on his lips. "Fine, Alessia. So you've learned to defy me now." "Think carefully, Alessia. Do you really want to keep your place as a Falcone?" "And your position as the family's lawyer? Think about whether you still want these… then give me your answer." Seeing the arrogance in Rocco's eyes, the last ember of love I had for this man died. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "I want out of the Falcone family."

He calls himself my guardian. But I want him to call me a good girl. I moved in after my mother died. He opened the door — broad chest, deep voice, eyes that stalled when they dropped to my tits. He tried to be decent. Tried to be safe. But I’ve been wet for him since day one. He’s twice my age. Raised my half-sister. Taught her to say “Dad” like it was gospel. But I know what she really wants. I see the way she watches him. The way she watches me when I bend over the kitchen counter, tank top riding up, no bra in sight. This house is full of secrets, soaked sheets, and girls who know better. He pretends not to want it. She pretends she’s not touching herself at night. And me? I leave the door open and let them both fall apart. Because I don’t want to be loved. I want to be used. Ruined. Claimed in every room until they forget who’s the daughter, who’s the guest, and who’s in charge. He raised her. He took me in. But — who’s he going to fuck first?