Mom Making Out With Son

While we're having our dinner on Christmas Eve, my mom suddenly asks me loudly, "Do you have your chastity?" I look confused. "What?" My mom just smiles very smugly. "I knew you were the adventurous type! You must have lost it because of someone else!" After that, she shoots my husband, Louis Hartson, a knowing look. "You don't know about this yet, right? Before Yvonne married you, she was an absolute player in the dating pool. Her father and I couldn't keep her under control at all!" I widen my eyes in shock. "What are you talking about?" My mom is even happier when she sees how angry I am. "Oh? You have the guts to do it, yet you're too cowardly to admit to it?" I can only clench my fists tightly under the table after hearing my mom's slanderous accusations. Since she likes spreading baseless rumors about me this much, I'm not going to keep her secret for her anymore.

During the holiday, my six-year-old son received his cleft-lip surgery. He wore a mask and sat quietly in our family bookstore, engrossed in a picture book. A young man came in, pinching his nose dramatically as he swaggered up to the manager. "Why did you let someone with an infectious disease in here?" he demanded loudly. "Get them out!" The manager winced. "Sir, I'm sorry, but I don't have the authority to remove other customers." Undeterred, the man marched up to me. "Be wise and get out of here. My girlfriend is Imogen Slater, CEO of the Slater Group. You don't want to mess with me." I froze in stunned silence. Imogen despised all men except me, and this guy claimed she was his girlfriend.

In this lifetime, Lyana Coiningan, the widow, laments about how envious she is about my bedroom by telling Alpha Theron Ulrick, "Luna Astra's bedroom is so huge and beautiful! If Dexter could stay here, he'd definitely forget all about the sorrow caused by his father's death…" While Theron is still hesitant about giving my bedroom away, I've already taken the initiative to pack up my things and give it to Lyana. On the coldest day of winter, Lyana's son, Dexter Ulrick, suddenly wails and complains about how cold the weather is. He then demands to have my son, Cayden Ulrick's fur cloak. Cayden doesn't hesitate to take off the cloak and give it to him. Everyone in the Silverfrost pack says, "Luna Astra is the embodiment of the Moon Goddess. She knows when to let others have all the good things. On top of that, she doesn't fight over anything with anyone else. Even her son is as understanding and demure as she is." Theron compliments us on how understanding we've become as well. But what they don't know is that I've already bought flight tickets in preparation to leave the Silverfrost pack. Once I get my hands on the mate bond dissolution potion, I'll be able to take Cayden to a land far, far away from this place. In my previous life, Theron had neglected Cayden and me forever because of Lyana and Dexter. He even passed his assets to them after his death. Now that we get a second chance in the same lifetime, both Cayden and I don't want to have anything to do with Theron anymore.

This Thanksgiving, Elmer Fuller finally agrees to go on a trip with me. But when I wake up in the hotel, I don't see him anywhere. I spend the entire day desperately searching for him, only to stumble across a social media post from his first love. It's a selfie of her and Elmer having a cozy family dinner with her parents. The caption reads, "Someone's finally meeting the parents on Thanksgiving night. Mom and Dad can stop pressuring me to get married now!" Around her neck is the scarf my mother knitted for me before she passed. I left a comment. "Stop using my things to flirt with my husband. Take the scarf off—you can have him." Not long after, she posts an update. The scarf is shredded into pieces and tossed into a dog bed, with the caption, "What trash—too filthy even for a dog!" Elmer likes the post.

Sebastian, Knox, Damien and a host of other names he has been called over centuries but only one stuck, the name Grey. Walking the earth an alpha werewolf with the fire of the sun flowing through his veins. His Immortal life, devoid of meaning till the day he met the white wolf running through the woods, his mate, Lana. She gave him a life and together they built the great pack of the west a sanctuary for lone wolves. Demons of the underworld carried rumors of a power capable of destroying everything it touches. Erebus the master of the underworld learnt of his existence, A werewolf weilding power that could destroy even him. Erebus sent his most loyal servant with a charge to destroy the alpha. They attacked, tearing apart the whole pack in an attempt to destroy him. He survived but his pack didn't, Lana didn't, leaving him all alone once again. He swore on the ground of his fallen pack to destroy Erebus the god of darkness. Little did he know that fate had other plans for him...

My boss, Walton Frazier, loves tricking me into wearing tight shirts and having the top three buttons undone before forcing me to entertain the female clients. Then, he drops hints to said that I'm young and have a great physique, only to wait with bated breath for the clients to start touching me. His excuse is that he wants to test the clients' characters to see if they really are worthy to work with. As soon as the clients fall for the trap hook, line, and sinker, Walton will rush out toward them in a righteous manner and slam his wine glass onto the table. After that, he'll start lecturing me as though I've done something awfully wrong. "Is there not a prideful bone in your body? Do you want to hit your sales target that badly that you're willing to forsake your pride as a man?" Walton chooses to trample all over me just so he can build his manly and righteous persona. This time, he specifically prepares a suit with a deep V-line that's made of light material. Then, he forces me to toast to a client with an extremely rich and powerful background in that suit. He even threatens to dock off three months' worth of perfect attendance pay if I don't do this. When I notice the familiar cold-looking yet striking face at the main seat, I can't help but smile. If my older sister, Mable Cobb, were to see me toasting to her in this kind of outfit, I have a feeling she'll clean out the trash for me and make me the boss of this company by tomorrow.

My name is Themis and I am not supposed to be alive. I survived the hunt, saddled with a husband and still I have to waddle my way through so many things to remain alive at the end of the day. The one person I can count on other than myself is my new husband who saved my life from the get go. And my gift of prophecy. Maybe, just maybe, it is also enough to save the Dar Empire too. My name is Themis and this is my story.

After Christmas, I went on a vacation. For the trip back, I failed to get a train ticket with a sleeping berth. Thus, I was tired and mussed when I got home. When I opened the door, someone shoved a bunch of cleaning tools at me. The man sneered at me and commanded, “Hurry up! You need to finish cleaning this place before 6:00 p.m.!” I looked at him and saw that he was wearing my father’s silk pajamas. I took a few steps back to check that yes, this was my family’s two-story mansion. It was my home, but who was this man? And what was this about cleaning? Did the man intend for me to clean? I was the son of the owners of the house! I messaged the family’s group chat and mentioned my mother. The message read, [@Mom, your boytoy is asking me to clean the place up. What gives?]

Wren Hastings crée de magnifiques espaces pour la vie des autres. Elle excelle dans ce domaine. Exceptionnelle, même. Ce qu’elle ne maîtrise pas, en revanche, c’est rester assez longtemps quelque part pour en avoir besoin. Quand un contrat de rénovation de six semaines la conduit au domaine Ashwood, dans la campagne du Vermont, elle s’attend à un client difficile, un budget généreux et une sortie sans accroc. Ce qu’elle obtient, c’est Dorian Ashwood : contrôlé, autoritaire, et qui se dresse sur son chemin dès son arrivée. L’offre qu’il lui fait lors de sa deuxième nuit sur place est simple. Participer au sommet familial en tant que sa compagne. Garder l’arrangement strictement professionnel. Partir quand le contrat prend fin. Elle pose ses conditions. Il accepte la plupart d’entre elles. Ce à quoi ni l’un ni l’autre ne s’attend, c’est ce qui se produit ensuite : la maison qui commence à lui ressembler, la famille qui l’absorbe sans demander la permission, et l’homme qui l’a choisie parmi un portfolio sans pouvoir expliquer pourquoi elle est la seule chose, dans son monde si soigneusement ordonné, qu’il ne parvient plus à maîtriser. Puis elle découvre les documents. Et l’arrangement cesse d’être le plus grand secret de la maison.

Après dix ans d'amour, mon fiancé Lucien Dubois a enfin accepté de m'épouser. Mais quand on prenait des photos de mariage, le photographe a demandé quelques clichés de baisers, il a froncé les sourcils, a parlé de sa prétendue obsession de propreté, m'a repoussée et est parti seul. J'ai présenté des excuses, gênée, aux membres de l'équipe. Par ce jour de forte neige, il était impossible de trouver un taxi. J'ai marché avec peine dans l'épaisse couche de neige, avançant pas à pas jusqu'à la maison. Mais par la fenêtre, j'ai surpris Lucien serrant son premier amour dans ses bras et l'embrassant avec une ardeur interminable. « Isabelle, il me suffirait d'un mot de toi pour que je fuie ce mariage ! » Mes années de fidélité et d'attente se sont effondrées, tournées en dérision. Après avoir pleuré toutes mes larmes, j'ai choisi de fuir avant lui. Plus tard, dans tout notre cercle, la rumeur a couru. On disait que le jeune maître de la famille des Dubois avait parcouru le monde à la recherche de son ancienne fiancée, implorant son retour.