Oblitus Casa Mother の小説・ストーリー

Delilah's POV "Let's get something straight right now," Dante said as he leaned forward with his storm gray eyes boring into mine with pure hatred. "We don't want you here. We don't want your mother here either. This is our home and our mother's home. You're both intruders who don't belong." "But there's a problem," Mateo added in a conversational tone like he was discussing the weather. "Our father is too obsessed with your mother to see reason right now. We can't get rid of her directly because he's completely blind when it comes to her."

When she finally glanced our way, her expression was cool and calculating. “You know your father’s rules,” she said, her tone soft but dripping with disdain. “No prostitutes in the house.” The words hit like a slap, her Italian accent slicing through the air with chilling precision. My cheeks burned, but I refused to react, knowing any outburst would only fuel her contempt. “Mother,” Nitta groaned, his embarrassment evident. “This is Beatrice. Ryuu’s wife.” Suniza’s eyes flicked to me, narrowing slightly as she assessed me. For a moment, I thought she might say something more, but instead, she turned and walked out of the room without another word.

my mother breaks the silence, her gaze shifting between Cassian and me. “Yes, Mom, Cassian is French,” I respond. My mother fixes me with a pointed look. “He can talk, Athena,” she says. “Yes, Mrs. Castellanos, I'm French, well half French,” Cassian says with a warm smile. “Please, Mrs. Castellanos is my mother-in-law. Call me Camila,” my mom replies, her smile trying to ease the tension. “You are the bastard child of Cassian Covington II?” My father’s voice falters as he finishes, his tone barely concealing his disdain.

Cortana was perfectly at ease, taking in Olive’s tense expression through eyes of smoky shadow and sharp liner. “I’m well aware of what is at stake, believe me.” Olive nodded curtly. As she gestured to me, I hefted the briefcase I carried onto the circular table that sat between us. “With the aid of my assistant, Ms. James, I’ve managed to procure a very large portion of the money my mother owes you and your family.” Cortana lifted one of her dark, perfectly sculpted eyebrows with interest. Taking another sip of her martini, she held up a hand as a signal to wait.

ignoring my subtle declaration of not wanting to continue this conversation , Chris continued . " like you said its just rumours , I don't understand why you are paying so much attention to them ?" " Every rumour has some base story to it , Bella " said Chris with his face scrunched in distaste " and the rumours that I heard about Jacob's mother ain't pretty " " Look I totally get it -" " Do you know that his mother is obsessed with his father to the point of oblivion ? Carter told me that she loves to spend time with kids that looks like Dante , you know , grey eyes , black hair "

Clenching his fist, tightening his jaw Imogen said, with anger intact to his every word, "No ... giovanotto, qui ti sbagli tutto. È una madre .. Ma solo tua, non mia. Non ho nessuna madre che provenga da una società di alta classe come lei. Mia madre è una ballerina sporca da bar, che sapeva cosa sono i soldi .. Giusto, signora Mcmaster? ( Nope.... Young man, you just get all wrong here. She is a mother.. But only yours, not mine. I don't have any mother who is from a high-class society like her. My mother is a dirty bar dancer, who just knew what is money.. Right, Mrs. Mcmaster? ) Piccolo darted Imogen a death glare. He clenched his fist, while the nerve on the side of his forehead bulged o

' Oscar's mum, Rita May Turnbull - face like a really ugly bulldog chewing a wasp – was an East London stalwart who, in her day, probably would have knocked the shit out of the husband who'd once knocked out Henry Cooper of all people (whoever the bloody hell he was). She was now reaching telegram-from-the-Queen age and still as feisty as she ever was, despite the fact she'd lost the sight in one eye and was now holed up in an old people's home over in Islington. I always asked after her though, which seemed to go a long way with Oscar. 'She's doing well, Casey, thanks, love. Causing all them buggers in Leafy Meadows no end of trouble, mind you.' He grinned a nicotine-stained toothy grin. 'H

I looked at the car plate number in the image, and its car plate number was the same as the one in my memory. I remembered. And here I was thinking why it looked so familiar. It was Hans and his family. When I finally reached home, I didn't care about anything and quickly made my way to Hans' home. I kept on feeling that if I was a little slower, something bad was going to happen and it was not a result I could accept. And that was the truth. I kept on banging on the door with as much strength as I could muster. The sounds attracted the neighbors nearby and they all came to ask me what was happening. I cried as I answered, "My mother-in-law sold Cara to Hans!"