My Stepmother Novels & Stories

I told her. He looked at them and they quickly shook their head. Mom is their stepmother which is supposed to be a problem for them. Most stepsons usually disrespect their stepmothers but against the respect her like a mother since she has been with them for so long. Of course she also forgot me in the process because she got better children that she never asked for.

I want to swear up a storm to Catherine, but I’m too busy shaking from pain and a little bit of rage. My stepmother laughs at my clear sign of pain, throwing back her head. She tosses the tape aside. “Pathetic little thing,” she muses to herself. “Always so weak.” To the side, I can see Noah clench his jaw in the direction of Catherine. They may be on the same side right now, but Noah’s clearly not comfortable watching my stepmother hurt me. He bares his teeth, not enough that she’ll notice. But I do. Maybe I can work with this.

She then smiled shyly and left. Her gesture caught me off guard, filling me with a surge of excitement. It was a clear sign—she cared for me just as deeply as I cared for her. Perhaps dating her was the best decision; it would bring me closer to my children. For the first time in what felt like forever, the prospect of peace and happiness seemed within reach. ******* "How dare you lay your filthy hands on my son!" Stephanie, my stepmother, roared immediately as I stepped into the mansion. The mansion is just a five-minute drive from mine; it's a larger and grander version of mine.

he said. “Good morning, Mr. Mije,” I responded, looking at him with concern. “You have visitors, ma'am,” he said. I narrowed my eyes. “Visitors? I wasn’t even expecting anybody. Who are they?” “Your step sisters and your stepmother, ma'am,” he spoke. I became even more surprised. Sarah’s visit didn't get me, but my stepmother’s visit did. What could she want? She had never visited me since I got married. Why is she here, then? Because I know she is always around when she wants something from somebody:

She was the normal smiling, happy-go-lucky woman she had always presented to everyone. Anyone who saw her at that moment would think she was a loving, innocent woman leading her stepdaughter down the stairs. Midas and Edmond had always said they felt uncomfortable with her, but I had thought Midas was saying all that because they started on the wrong foot and Edmond was just showing solidarity with Midas. My stepmother had always been evil. She was only hiding in plain sight. When we got downstairs, I sighed when I saw no one in sight so we headed towards the door

I didn’t want to believe anything he said, either, but if I had to choose between believing one or the other, I would choose him in a heartbeat. “Mommy?” Thea suddenly called, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she came down in her pajamas. “I’m hungry. Can we have pancakes?” She stopped when she saw my stepmother. “Hello there,” my stepmother said, her voice softening as she looked at Thea. I moved to stand between them. “Thea, this is…” I hesitated. What was she to my daughter? Technically a step-grandmother, but that implied a relationship that simply didn’t exist. “This is nobody. She was just leaving.”

I mumbled, placing the cup I was holding on the counter before leaving the kitchen with Sophia. We sat on the couch together in the living room. I leaned into the couch with my legs crossed, contemplating whether I should tell her now or not. “What's the deal with you and that lady?” She asked after a minute of silence. I huffed, “Well, she's my stepmother. My Dad got married to her after my Mom died when I was five years old.” I said. “ And she hates me and finds every opportunity to insult me because she couldn't give him a child.”

Because my father saw me, I approached him. "You visited for, how long?" He asked. "Maybe forever," I said, and he grinned faintly. "I want to know my stepmother, can it be as good as my mother." "You don't need mom, but you need it—" His talk suddenly stopped when he looked at the stairs; a beautiful woman, brown-haired, bumpy, and very elegant, walking towards us with a wide smile. Was she my stepmother? "You want to know my wife, this is Beatrice, you can call her Mom"

Damn The funny thing about my stepmother was that she was pretty young, at least too young for my father. She was a brunette with the perfect slim figure and assets, it made sense since Ava wasn't her actual daughter…she was adopted by her. Which makes them not even blood related. Her blue eyes were alluring though I still kept away. “Where are you going, dressed like that?” My sentence forms before I even comprehend it.

I was curious. "I killed my stepmother." My body stiffened. She said it so casually, as if she were sharing a childhood memory. She went on, her tone unnervingly light. "I don’t know my parents. Abandoned, probably. My stepmother said she found me on her doorstep and took me in. Raised me as her maid, really. I was six. She had a daughter, Monica, the same age as me, spoiled and pampered while I scrubbed floors and fetched water."