My Stepmom Mistreated Me Brutally, Assuming I Was The Paramour Mga Nobela at Kwento

And I made sure they knew how much of a monster they had made me. Years ago, my stepmother and I argued over something I hardly remember. She followed me up the stairs to my room. She yelled, cursed, and wished for my death. To my horror, she accidentally slipped and tumbled down the staircase, resulting in her miscarriage. They convicted me of ten years in prison after that horrible incident. My father didn’t even give me a chance to plead my case. It was too late when I found out it was all planned so my stepmother could get rid of me and make her firstborn the sole heir of the Pack.

The only difference was that at first it was an obsession of lust but now it was for love. I felt like a disappointment to both my late step-dad and my mother. They'd never approve of the things I did and not to think that my stepdad had saved Florentine from her abusive husband, gave her a life and made her the clinic's second head. He didn't use her for something disrespectful yet I did that to Thea who was supposed to be my step-sister. In a way, I could say I abused her and that very fact made me feel undeserving of her.

However, he only believed the pillow talk whispered by my stepmother, Mary, and decided that I was the one who caused the death of his only son. My mother died giving birth to me. Before the first week after her funeral was even over, he brought a pregnant Mary into the house. That woman secured her position as the wife of the house by giving birth to a premature baby boy. Because of it, her body was damaged, and she could never have another child. So, Ethan became my dad’s entire world. After Ethan died, he treated me like a dog. He fed me dog food, made me sleep in a cage, and forced me to bark just to vent his useless rage and ease his guilt toward Mary.

If only he knew why I was here, what they did to me and how they ridiculed my existence, maybe he would understand he wanted no ties with this pack. “The show is over, everyone,” my step-mother shouted, startling everyone, including me. I stood frozen, unsure of what I was supposed to do or if I had to speak up. I should be able to talk freely to the man if he was my mate, right? My step-mother’s hand grabbed my shoulder and she didn’t shy away from extending her claw to pierce my skin. As soon as the sharp nails sunk in my flesh, I wanted to scream in pain, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of hearing my cries.

I smirk as I walk away , she intended to tick me of but instead I ticked her off. When I enter my room , I can’t help but think about my step sister. I heard a story once that she was not always like this. Obviously , I was either not born yet or I was too little to remember. Apparently , she was kind and shit…She fell in love with a guy. They used to date as well – they dated for years. Little did everyone know was that he had been abusing her. He manipulated her into thinking he loved her and that is why he hit her – he hit her because he loved her. Oneday , he just woke up and left her saying he did not need her anymore. From that day forward , she locked herself in ; she became ruthless

"I’m just trying to protect you... Thαt’s αll I’ve ever wαnted." I felt like I wαs going to explode. "Stop sαying thαt! Just stop! Protect me? You’re not protecting me. You’re breαking me. You’re confusing the hell out of me. You're mαking me feel like I'm crαzy!" "Killiαn‚ pleαse... tαke her αwαy‚" my stepmom sαid gently‚ eyes full of pity. "No!" I screαmed‚ crying hαrder. "I’m not leαving until he gives me the truth. I deserve thαt much!"

"Why would you blame me for that? Why would you reprimand me for doing what you signed me up for?’’ Her hand was raised in the air again ready to strike me. but I didn't flinch. not this time. there was an unsettling confidence in my stomach when I watched her. I felt like I was being pushed to the edge. Dared to fight back. “ you're not going to talk to me like that. I am responsible for you. I am your mother..’’ “You are my stepmother!’’ I corrected it. "You're not my mother. My mother is dead. My father is dead. This is the family I thought I had. but how you treat me isn't even the way any mother should treat another person’s child.. You are my stepmother. you don't just get to be my mot

He joked and we laughed. "Naughty!! But then, why would she flinch?! She would only do that if she was already used to being hit?" I said, quite unsure of my speculation. "Exactly! That was exactly what I thought as I looked at her in shock. She had already started apologizing for her misconception by then. Then I asked if she was being abused by her Stepmom and she went all gagas on me. Then she made mention of the fact that I was showing her fake love and care, and she knew it was going to be over soon, and I'd show my true colors. I was hurt to say the least, but when she said I had been using her as a pawn in my business and was marrying her for my own selfish reasons, I went berserk."

he said. And just like always, my stepmother didn’t find out if he was right or wrong. She took a wooden spoon from the kitchen. “Madam please, I didn’t do anything wrong…please spare me.” “So you are calling my children liars right???” “No Madam…pleasee.” She began hitting me repeatedly as I pleaded for mercy. Even when I fell to the ground, I could still feel the impact of each hit on my body as I stopped struggling and closed my eyes to welcome darkness.

"Why would you blame me for that? Why would you reprimand me for doing what you signed me up for?’’ Her hand was raised in the air again ready to strike me. but I didn't flinch. not this time. there was an unsettling confidence in my stomach when I watched her. I felt like I was being pushed to the edge. Dared to fight back. “ you're not going to talk to me like that. I am responsible for you. I am your mother..’’ “You are my stepmother!’’ I corrected it. "You're not my mother. My mother is dead. My father is dead. This is the family I thought I had. but how you treat me isn't even the way any mother should treat another person’s child.. You are my stepmother. you don't just get to be my mot