Romans & histoires Mariana Adams Foster

he paused to see their reaction and he wasn't surprised when he saw how their face crumpled like paper. “Mr Adams got married to a minor, age 13 because he wanted a male son. And then during childbirth, she died. The parents took the matter to court but you came to Mr MacMillies to help you, which he did with promise that you keep providing for the family.” Luck stopped again and looked at Mr Adams whose face has paled. Then he looked at the others who wasn't looking good either. Eric coldly smiled. “Should I tell him to go on?” His chilly voice was heard. They all turned and looked at him terrified. He shifted on the chair.

John Adams says and his eyes land on my father this time. "You killed my son to save yours," John Adams says. "So I turned my daughter into a weapon. To marry your son. To take over the throne that you love. And then to kill him. To tear your family apart. But that idiot turned out to be too soft so I didn't have any other option left. I had to have more ways to get you. So that's how Roger came and Marissa came. I don't know Marissa's potential yet because I wasn't interested in her too much," John Adams says.

As she asked the question, she leaned in close and took a deep breath, holding it in as if the answer were very important. Amanda stared at the woman for a moment, thinking how very odd she was even if she was also very nice. “Uh, My parents, my foster parents were Kevin and Martha Monroe. I never knew my birth parents. They left me when I was just a baby. They didn’t want me.” The final words came out with a touch of venom. Sara blinked and lowered her head, breathing in deeply once again. Her head was nearly in Amanda’s lap.

Mariane stuttered as she looked away, trying to avert from his gaze. ‘I’m doomed. If he finds out my age, Sir Adam will fire me right away.’ Mariane thought. David noticed her worries. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Adam.” Mariane found hope in what David had just said. “But tell me your name first.” “M-My name… My name is Mariane Ramos, sir. But sir… Promise me not to tell Sir Adam about my age. If he finds out, My manager and I will get fired right away,” Mariane pleaded.

She was only eighteen then and she had absolutely no idea about motherhood. Her foster parents had supported her and her big brother was also there alongside his best friend. The pressure had subsided and when the baby was born, Bloom changed completely. Little Mario became her little bundle of joy and she loved him to no end. The Adams were her last foster family and the fourth to take her in. They were an old couple who had no children so they adored and treasured Bloom and her child a lot. Bloom was adopted by them when she was fifteen and remained with them till they passed away unfortunately.

She had just returned from a trip just a few days ago and now her parents were nagging that she had to go out with them since they haven't spent much time together . Mrs Adams ,who was maris and her mom was a middle age woman in her late 40s but who saw her would think that she was still in her twenties because of her looks and her beautiful smile ,she was the number one fashion designer in the whole of the united state and her dad was one of the most biggest CEO ever ,their family Company ,"The Adam corporations was the one the best and was always topping everything here and had the best things. Ranging from their spectacular modeling home ,to the best fashion designing home and then to the

Half an hour later, Samuel and Joe followed the doctor out of the ward. Just now in the ward, Foster was facing some questions from the doctor and Joe, and his answers were half true and half false. He said his name was Dominic. Two years ago, he got married to Hannah. He was the President of Kangsel's United States, and Joe was his secretary. But Joe asked Foster how he became his secretary, and Foster couldn't remember, only responding with a question, "Didn't you come to the company for an interview yourself?" As for the Carroway family, Foster only remembered the first twenty years of their story. He remembered having a wealthy and happy family, but after turning twenty, his family membe

CYRUS KAYE P.O.V I saw Mrs. Adams off to the school gate, standing in front of me in her full motherly figure, she took my hand in hers giving it a reassuring squeeze “Don’t think too much about this sugar. Your Dad is not going to have his way this time around I will not let him. Do not end things with that girl. I can see she makes you happy. It is high time you show your father you are not the selfish man he is. You are capable of love my dear and you also need to be loved. “She pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my hands around her needing an extra bout of encouragement. It would be my first time of opening fighting for my needs. Marie was worth fighting for, and I will fight for her until

I felt Adam's hand tighten around my wrist again — a reflex, involuntary, the grip of a man who was hearing something that confirmed a fear he hadn't yet articulated. "What do you mean, you planned for the ninety-eight?" Adam asked. Marie's expression didn't change. "I mean that while you were lying in this bed, unconscious, with machines breathing for you and a river's worth of damage in your lungs, your spine and your hands, I made decisions. Practical decisions. The kind that adults make when the person they're supposed to build a life with is no longer capable of participating in the conversation." She reached into her coat pocket. Pulled out a document. Unfolded it with a single, precis

A question asked out of genuine curiosity, not calculated manipulation. “My foster mom,” I said after a beat. “Her name was Mina.” Adam nodded slowly, like he was filing the name away in that meticulous mind of his. “She the one who taught you to cook?” I smiled, faintly. The memory of Mina was a bright spot in a life mostly painted in shades of gray. “Yeah. She worked in a bakery. Nothing fancy—just bread, pies, cinnamon rolls. But she loved it. And she let me help when I was tall enough to reach the counter.” The smell of warm yeast and sugar filled my memory, a comfort I hadn't realized I missed so much.