La Mujer Samaritana Novels & Stories

"Let me out! I want out! My wife and kid are waiting for me!" An old woman in a knitted cardigan came hobbling over, leaning on her cane. Her withered face looked like a dead, ancient tree, drained of all life. She glared at the man who was about to wake up, hatred flashing in her eyes. "You evil thing! Trying to steal my son again… Not a chance!" She raised her cane and brought it down hard toward his head. Just then, she heard a shout. "Elizabeth! Something happened to Samson! His eye is injured. Come back now!"

"And my mother… was Samantha Horhetha Elvalour..the first She-Mafia. I fear no man born of a woman." My heels clicked against the stone as I walked away, every step tearing into the silence like a promise.

I heard Samantha exchange a few words with Sam before she closed the door behind us. "Have a seat; he'll arrive shortly," she said, and I nodded, settling down. "We haven't had the chance to introduce ourselves. I'm Samantha, his older sister," she added with a warm smile. I returned her smile, introducing myself in turn. "I'm Saint, here from another pack for the annual mission." "Great! I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," she replied before heading off. As I glanced around, I noticed several framed pictures of him with a woman and a child placed on the walls. One particular photo captivated my attention: it depicted him and the woman, locked in a gaze that suggested they were the

"Oh baby, I'm sorry. I wish you had had the help she needed. But now, you can do what you can to help others. It won't replace the memories of what happened, but you can live knowing that you made a safe way out for another woman." Vulcan, who was all but forgotten, watched on as he smirked. He had been right. Samantha was perfect for his friend. She was feisty enough to stand up to him, but soft enough to be compassionate with the women and children they help. She would be a great asset. Many of the women that they helped where naturally suspicious of them, as men, as biker and as someone that they only had been told were going to help them. Realizing that they were not alone, Samantha's mo

The man may be hard to control, but at least he knew when to respect privacy. Hayden knelt down beside Izan, in front of Samantha’s grave. Her full name was written on it: Inéz Samantha Torres, with a little Spanish note on it. Her mother’s grave was right beside her, neat with fresh flowers. Both their faces had been imprinted on their headstones. Hayden reached out gingerly to touch Samantha’s tiny sculpted face. The last image of her he had was when he kept pressuring her to leave his house. She had been bouncing on the steps then, promising to prove just how wrong he was. And she had. “Who are you?” Izan asked at the sight of Hayden’s sudden tears.

After two years she will be free to get married to whoever she pleases. We sit in silence for some minutes before light footsteps are heard from the front door. A young lady in a maid’s attire with a luggage in her hand comes into view. She is soon followed by a lady clad in all black. She is also on a face cap but anyone could tell that she wasn’t a normal person because she carried a powerful aura. Emilia Peyton.

, the mother pops the question as her perplexed look sweeps around. Samantha braces her hands on her hips and grumbles in a somewhat annoyed tone, "What? Do you want to return inside?" "No. No. But, I can't thank you enough." The woman flutters her misty eyes as she covers her mouth. "I can't imagine how things will end without your help. You're our benefactor. Please, let me kneel to—" "Quit it." Samantha interrupts her in a stern tone before the woman can go to her knees. "I didn't rescue you for this."

The nurse stood aside and could not help but frown when she saw Samantha's tearful face. Unexpectedly, Samantha was still such a filial person who was kind to her grandmother. "Okay, okay don't cry. I will ask Brother Santos to send your mother to the hospital now. Come back quickly or else it would be too late to see her" Since Samantha didn't care about the money and was willing to pay the old woman the money for the rescue, Ms Melissa would naturally be a good person so she immediately promised to let her son send the old lady to the hospital.

But amid the fear and confusion, Samantha’s behavior stood out like a ray of light. She was always there. Day and night, she sat by Rina’s bedside—feeding her, bathing her, and whispering gentle words that soothed her pain. Her tireless care earned her praise from everyone in the pack. “Samantha has truly changed,” they said. “Maybe she’s found repentance after all.” Even Theo began to believe it. Watching Samantha’s quiet devotion softened something inside him. Perhaps she had learned from her mistakes. Perhaps she wasn’t the same girl anymore.

They stood and said softly, “Luna.” She smiled and one woman, her hair streaked with gray at the temples, closed the space between them and fell on her knees. “Luna, you gave me back my son. He hadn't walked for months…and now he runs.” she said with a shaky voice, tears rolling down her face. “How do we ever repay this?” Samantha felt her breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the woman. She dropped to her knees too, holding the woman’s hands tightly. “Please… don't kneel to me. I only did what any mother would hope another might do for her child.”