Mother Of Dragons Lover Mga Nobela at Kwento

Darlene is a woman rediscovered. After the dust of a divorce settled, she found herself trapped in a quiet house with a growing, restless hunger. What began as a fleeting, forbidden thought soon spiraled into an all-consuming obsession centered on the one person who was strictly off-limits: her son, Leo. What starts with stolen glances and secret thrills evolves into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse. From provocative signals in the hallway to the ultimate crossing of lines, Darlene and Leo navigate a dangerous path of mutual discovery. As they shed the traditional roles of mother and son, they replace them with a bond that is as intense as it is taboo. But a secret this heavy cannot stay contained forever. Between the looming threat of discovery by neighbors, the interference of old flames, and the life-altering reality of a pregnancy that binds them forever, their unconventional relationship is tested at every turn.

For Maya Bennett, a one-night stand was supposed to be just that—one night. But when she walks into her mother’s house and finds the man from that unforgettable night standing there as her mother’s new boyfriend, her world tilts on its axis. Daniel Hayes is everything Maya swore to avoid—powerful, devastatingly handsome, and emotionally unavailable. But the sparks that ignited between them can’t be extinguished, no matter how wrong it feels. At first, they promise to leave what happened between them in the past in order not to hurt Helen, but then when the small marketing firm Maya works for is acquired by Daniel’s company she is sent over to the executive department as part of the transitioning team. Things start to get heated and they eventually start to cave into their desires. Can love survive when it was never meant to exist? Or will it destroy everything in its wake?

My mother-in-law, Martha Miller, dies after being struck by my husband's assistant, Layla Atkinson's car after the latter runs the red light. But the court verdict shows that Martha is the one scamming Layla. I've filed appeals three times, yet I've lost all three. Just as I'm about to file the fourth appeal, I find out that someone has stolen Martha's corpse. I'm about to call the police when my attorney husband, Michael Sawyer, seeks me out. He even gives me three thousand dollars on the spot. "You should know that I've never lost a case, Bianca. No matter how much evidence you have, you can forget about winning your mother's case. "If I claim that your mother is scamming Layla, then she will forever be a scammer. The fact that you keep taking her case to court just means that you want more compensation. Anyway, I've already gotten someone to sell your mother's body to the black market. It's worth three thousand dollars in total, so I suppose that's the value of her life. "Stop bothering Layla like a pest you are. She's kind enough to not make you pay for the damages her car has sustained, after all." No wonder Michael keeps defending Layla. It turns out that he thinks my mom is the one who has died in the accident this whole time. I just push the money back to him. "You should keep the money. I don't have the right to take it."

This year, as the country's leading neurosurgeon, I was invited to perform a high-profile specialist surgery at a hospital in another state. Twenty years ago, I stood in this very operating room. My mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, and the surgeon's hand slipped by less than a quarter of an inch. She died. Back then, it was my first love, Ethan Lancaster, who helped me through the grief. Only later did I learn the truth. The surgeon listed on the case was Ethan's father, the hospital's renowned Chief of Neurosurgery. But the one actually holding the scalpel was Ethan himself, still a surgical resident at the time. He and Vanessa Hart had planned it all along. They used my mother's operation as a practice case to advance his career. After the tragedy, Vanessa used her status as the hospital director's daughter to bury the entire incident. From that day forward, I gave up my guaranteed research placement and sat for medical school entrance exams again. I studied from undergraduate through postdoctoral training. I spent twenty full years turning myself into the kind of surgeon who would never make that mistake. All so that one day, no one else would have to suffer the same tragedy my mother did. Today, my assistant slid a patient's file across the desk. Brainstem tumor. Late stage. Extremely high risk. The face in the photo had aged considerably, but I recognized it at a glance. I handed the file back to my assistant and removed my surgical coat. “I can't perform this surgery.”

3 years ago, the Southern witch sealed the mate bond between Dylan and me with her spell. She said that if we still truly loved each other after 3 years, the bond would remain. Otherwise, it would be broken. During these years, I helped him become the Alpha of our pack as his Luna. But in his heart, there was someone else, his childhood sweetheart, Eleanor. When Eleanor found out that we had started our mate bond, she chose to leave with another werewolf. Dylan was drunk and cried out her name in my arms. His wolf claws scratched me. At that moment, my arm was bleeding, so was my heart. But I believed that he would gradually fall in love with me as time went on. I thought 3 years would be quite enough for that. When the 3 years are almost up, Eleanor returned. Dylan dropped an important meeting to meet with her. We lost $2 billion because of that. Dylan started being by her side every day, just like before. I used to be so afraid that when the time came, we wouldn’t be in love, and that I might lose Dylan. 7 days later, our mate bond would be gone. This time, I didn’t care anymore. It was just a countdown for me to become the Alpha Queen of my own pack.

When I had just received an offer from a French ballet company, my right leg was amputated due to a car accident. My fiance could not accept my disability, so he married my competitor, Gabriella Smith. I was about to have a meltdown when my childhood best friend, Joe Anderson, carpeted my hospital room with roses and proposed to me with a diamond ring. Throughout our five years of marriage, he treated me extremely well and loved me as he did the very first day we married. I thought that he was a gift from God to compensate for my tragedy until I accidentally overheard his conversation with his friend. “Joe, I heard that Gabriella is the principal dancer of the top ballet company in Paris. If only you hadn’t turned Fiona into a cripple for her... Do you feel guilty?” “I feel guilty about it, that’s why I married her and treated her well. I’ll repay her with my life.” I grabbed the armrests of my wheelchair as I held back my sobs. The happy marriage that I thought I had was just a lie. The husband whom I thought loved me was the culprit behind my plight. He only loved Gabriella. If that were the case, I would give my blessings for them to be together!

When the mafia heir, Marco Gallante, barged into the family vault with his mistress, I was standing before the Virgin Mary statue, cross-checking bloodstained ledgers. Fiore Albero cowered behind him, pointing at the ledgers in my hands and shrieking, "Marco, I'm scared..." I did not even bother looking up, just flicked the ash off my cigar. However, Marco kicked the desk over with one swift boot. "Chiara Moltisanti, Fiore can't stand the sight of all this blood and violence. Sign the divorce papers, now!" I stared at the mess scattered across the floor, thinking back to the pregnancy report the family doctor had handed me just ten minutes ago. The Gallante bloodline was dying out in this generation. Ever since the eldest son, Luca Gallante, died in that accident, Marco became the sole heir. The Don, Carmine Gallante, dreamed of nothing more than a legitimate boy of pure blood to carry on the family name and glory. So, I smiled, bright and sharp, with unmistakable mockery. "Perfect. Since you want true love, then the Don's throne will never be yours." Besides, I never wanted Marco, that useless fool. What I wanted was the Gallante empire, a mafia dynasty spanning three continents with 100 years of roots, and the control that left him with nowhere to run and no legs to stand on. This time, I would cut him out completely, keep the bloodline, and sit at the head of the family.

If it was my sister being bullied, Mom and Dad would have believed her right away and fought for her without a second thought. However, it did not matter anymore. In my next life, I would pick parents who really cared about me.

At the company's year-end party, a colleague asks me teasingly about when exactly my boyfriend, Hayden Potter, and I will get married. Hayden's female buddy, Melissa Somers, instantly speaks up for him. "He's not in a rush. After all, Hayden's main priority is his career." At first, I don't think much about Melissa's response. But the next thing I know, I suddenly hear her internal thoughts. [Marriage? When Hayden was sleeping over at my place, he promised me that he'd marry me!] I freeze up on the spot before whirling around to stare at Hayden and Melissa. At the moment, Melissa is taking a sip from Hayden's drink through the same straw he just used. Hayden never once looks at me. In fact, he even has an arm wrapped around Melissa's shoulders.

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.