Luz Mom

This is a thrilling and suspenseful romance story of a young adult guy by name Joshua who falls in love with the nanny his mom hired to take care of his younger sister - keeping his affair with her a secret, away from the prying eyes of his parents until something happens that threatens to reveal him.

Warning: Matured 18+ contents! HAVING a prosperous rich lifelike Celestine Rain Alcazar is like living in a lie. When she's living in a cage—no freedom of things she wanted. She has the money, luxury, beauty, and brain that men are drooling over her. But there is still something missing in her perfect life. Closing into edge is her feeling when her mom introduced her to Ezekiel Bellevera for an arranged marriage. Her mom doesn't know her secrets between her sheets. Immersed in a fantasy life, Celestine will unravel her identity proving that Ezekiel wasn't the guy for her. And showing that most of the people are Not A Saint, the same as her. The freedom of being true to yourself is her weapon. And she will prove them wrong. But what if the person she loves been cheating on her with her fiancé, Ezekiel, and caught it red-handed? Would she forgive and forget or this is her start of vengeance towards men?

I accidentally come across a post made by my mom's smurf account on the Internet. "Is it too cheap for me to prepare just a set of gold bars as a coming-of-age gift for my daughter?" My heart skips a beat. My parents are known for being extremely stingy. To think that they are willing to spend this much on me! I'm worried that my parents might overwork themselves just to prepare such a lucrative gift, so I take a screenshot and save the link to a three-year vacation tour that's priced at 999 dollars. Then, I decide to respond to the post as an anonymous user. "Your daughter will feel very happy as long as she receives her parents' love. No materialistic gift can ever outshine that." Five minutes later, Mom responds to me, "Thank you for your suggestion, but I've already taken my darling on a graduation trip in Enora last week. She had so much fun there."

A car accident left my mother-in-law bleeding and desperate for help, but her plea was heartlessly rejected by her own daughter. Even on her deathbed, my mother-in-law's only wish was to see her one last time. However, she was busy staying by her first love's side, euthanizing his dog. "You better stay as far away from me as possible! My mom's perfectly fine!" she shouted before hanging up on me, only to spend the night tangled with her first love in a hotel room. It was not until after the cremation ceremony that she returned—carrying a birthday cake. What greeted her was not a celebration but her mother's funeral. She cried, sobbing uncontrollably, "Mom! You haven't even celebrated my birthday yet! Don't leave me!" I stared at her and pulled the divorce papers from my bag. How fitting. This time, I was leaving too.

After Calvin’s older brother passed away, he devoted himself to taking care of his brother’s wife and daughter. He justified it by saying that ‘family should look out for each other.’ To others, the three of them looked just like a close, happy family. When my mother was on her deathbed, he was busy comforting his sister-in-law, who had been brought to tears by her own son. I knelt on the floor, crying and begging him, “My mom is dying. Please, just visit her one last time, I am begging you!” However, Calvin’s voice was ice-cold as he snapped back, “Tell your mom to die later! I am busy!” I waited for two whole hours, and in the end, my mother never got to see her son-in-law one last time. Broken and exhausted, I finally asked for a divorce. “Why don’t the three of you just stay together and enjoy your happy little family.”

When my mother-in-law was poisoned and clinging to life, my toxicology knowledge was her only hope. I ended the call and grabbed my coat, ready to rush to the hospital. My husband blocked my path. "Hold on! It's the opening of Ella's haunted castle today. You're bailing to play ghost?" I stared at him, telling him about the dire situation. The poison needed to be neutralized within thirty minutes, or it would be fatal. He rolled his eyes. "Your janitor mom can drop dead for all I care. I'll toss some Monopoly money on her grave if it shuts you up. Don't try to cross me here." His best female friend draped herself over him. "In a hurry to chase some side guy? Girl, your face is longer than Herbert's when he is all revved up. Right, buddy?" Their shamelessness was almost laughable. The kicker? Herbert thought it was my mom dying.

When I became the blood bank for my mate Alpha Kane’s sweetheart, my wolf died from the endless loss of blood—and so did I, alone, in the cold den he rented to keep me out of sight. Today marks the third day since my death, and finally, my six-year-old pup noticed something was wrong. His finger bled when a toy hurt him, but I didn’t come to comfort him. When he tried to feed me his favorite food, I didn’t stop him either. He lay on my chest, gripping my clothes and whispering my name—but I didn’t respond. Desperate and helpless, my pup picked up my cellphone and called his alpha dad. “Dad, why is Mom still sleeping?” Kane didn’t answer. Instead, he sent him a photo of himself and Serena—his sweetheart—celebrating Full Moon Day, smirking. “Don’t worry. Your mom is just sleeping, not dead. You know I’m quite busy on Full Moon Day. Tell your arrogant and stubborn mom not to come find me until she admits her fault.” The call ended, leaving my pup frozen in silence. However, three days later, Kane received news of my death. He let out a gut-wrenching growl, refusing to believe it was true. Clutching my cold, lifeless body in his arms, he wept bitterly. “Kate… you are my only Luna,” he cried. “Come back. Stay with me… please.”

The year was 1983. The sun had set. It was dark outside. Only one dim light was in the Foster family’s living room. “Dad, Mom, I’m willing to live abroad with you.” When they heard their daughter’s words through the phone, Philip York and Angela York were moved to tears of excitement.

Since I was a little girl, my mom had always taught me that I deserve all the good things in life. When I was still a student, my copycat roommate bought the same outfit that I had on purpose. She even asked me if she looked fat in it. I just shook my head. "I don't know. I, for one, have an amazing figure, so it definitely looks good on me." Once I start working, a male colleague decides to pursue me. So, I come up with an excuse on the spot and tell him that I already have a boyfriend. He looks at me with pain etched in his eyes. Then, he asks me if I'll take him into consideration after I break up with my boyfriend. I just sneer at him in return. "It seems that you don't love me enough. Otherwise, why aren't you offering to become my side piece?" Due to my principles, everyone keeps cursing me out and calling me an arrogant woman who has no sense of shame behind my back. But one day, when my blind date hears about my personality quirk, he decides to take me back to his home to visit his mother during the holidays. "My mom is the type who keeps demeaning herself for no reason. She keeps claiming that she's unworthy of anything in life. I swear, she's driving me mad! "If you can help my mom get rid of this habit, I'll give you whatever you want." This is definitely an interesting proposal. So, I accept it confidently with a pat on the chest. "Don't worry. Leave it to me."

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'