Novel & Cerita Matriarch

Ms. Audrey’s identity would have been noble if Madam Tiara had been alive since she was Tiara’s eldest daughter. Unfortunately, Madam Tiara was already dead for decades. Ms. Audrey had also been missing all this while and only appeared a few months ago. So what if Madam Fisher confirmed she was the previous matriarch’s daughter? The one sitting in that position was Madam Fisher. Employees were changed whenever a new matriarch took over. Madam Fisher had been the matriarch for four or five decades. The employees did not think Ms. Audrey could replace Madam Fisher as the mat

Nobody was created or was born naturally crazy. It's just that they created their illusion because of the environment they grew up in and the way people around them brought them up. It's their choice that they decided to act crazy when reality they are not. However, if they want to remain crazy then I will go crazy with them. Coming out of my thoughts I glare at Ambrose. "Then you should have looked for Hailey to take his head. I am Sr. Claire NaronzoThe woman in service of God. Not a mate. Not a creature like you or the bloody Jenna Harrison." I said and straighten my clothes.

At the foyer, they were welcomed by the gorgeous matriarch, Helena Alcantara-Greyson together with her honourable spouse and a retired pilot, Raskov Greyson. Even though Chloe anticipated this confrontation to happen, still, she felt highkey uneasy right now. Her heart hammered inside her chest, yet she concocted to show her holiest, courteous smile to her in-laws. The word seemed foreign to her ears for it was her first to be addressed as a wife. For the umpteenth time, she reminded herself to dance to the tune, serve her purpose and keep her acting one hundred. "Welcome home, hijo," Helena hugged her son instantly. "We missed you bigtime, Bubu bear."

Matriarch de Jardin shook her head at her grandson adamantly, her grimace still painted on her face. Of course she wanted peace. Of course she wanted the killing to end. It had been going on since before she took up the mantle of Matriarch. “Having power doesn’t mean pushing your own agenda,” she replied. “Power is service. In my terms, I serve the needs of the Dukedom, who themselves serve their fief. Since more than half the fief demands our defense of our colonies, then we serve that need.

"Audrey is not a woman capable of being a daughter-in-law in the Ardians' family. She's like a withered flower, unable to perfume and only makes the view unpleasant. And I don't want to have a daughter-in-law who will only bring shame to our family name." The grandfather and grandson were now engaged in a war and their aura was terrifying. "I will only recognize Patricia as my granddaughter-in-law. No one else," Abraham commanded absolutely. His decision would never change. He had known Patricia all along. According to his observations, Patricia was the only one capable of bringing dignity to the Anderson family. Patricia was educated, she also knew ethics and manners and how to behave as an

Sonia said. “What vision are you talking about? And when did you start seeing visions?” He teased her. “It's not funny Frank,” Rose murmured. “I saw a vision where I was carrying my own baby and leaving that same hospital. It could be a sign. Let’s help her.” “I don't feel good about this, Sonia, but okay.” he said. “By the way, we need a maid. We could employ her as a maid.” Rose added. “Maid? A pregnant woman in danger?” Frank asked, as he washed the dishes in the basin.

They had spent their lives insulating themselves from reality, and now, reality was walking through the door in a pair of Italian leather shoes. Catrina walked beside me. She was pale, her side still bandaged, her gait guarded, but there was a fire in her eyes that made the most seasoned directors in the room shrink back in their chairs. She was the mirror image of the woman they had served for twenty years, but she was sharp, hardened, and absolutely, terrifyingly real. "Mr. St. Clair," the Chairman, a withered man named Halloway, stammered, standing up. "This... this is highly irregular. The Matriarch is incapacitated, the legal status of the succession is c

"Wait here." He followed Ryan toward the back supply room. I started shoving my journals into my bag, but a buzzing sound stopped me. Mason had left his burner on the table. The screen lit up. Incoming Call: The Patriarch. The wallpaper was a high-def shot of a brutalist fortress—the Cross Estate. In the center stood a man who looked like a god of war, flanked by Mason and a younger, darker-looking wolf. The phone buzzed again. On instinct, I grabbed it and headed for the counter. "Mason, your dad is—"

She looked out over the boundless expanse of New York City, her dark obsidian eyes glowing with absolute, untouchable sovereign pride. The sold bride was gone, burned away in the fires of their war. In her place stood the Matriarch of the East Coast, forever anchored between her Don and her Enforcer, worshipped, invincible, and supreme. The Trinity was absolute. The reign was eternal. THE END

Hiding behind the wall, watching this obscene ritual, The Elder Matriarch felt the blood in her entire body freeze cold. Right near her quarters, bent over the shadows of the bamboo grove in broad daylight. To see a matriarch of the head house taking a servant's feral length deep into her mouth and surrendering her core to his tongue to drip nectar was an absolute abomination. This was a hellish painting of humans shedding their skin and regressing into feral beasts. She ought to run out screaming right now, grab those beasts by their hair, and yell until the whole village echoed.