Son Knocks Up Mother Novels & Stories

At the Christmas dinner table, my drunk uncle suddenly turned on my mom. “You know, Sis, you’re pretty shameless, aren’t you? Every year, I give Anna five hundred bucks as a Christmas gift, but you’ve never given my daughter anything!” The rest of the family had clearly been holding this in for a while. Since someone had said it out loud, they all jumped in at once to accuse my mother of always taking and never giving. They called her selfish and stingy. My mother suddenly grabbed me by the hair and slapped me. “Anna, why didn’t you tell me you got money from them? Have you been hiding cash? You made me look like I can’t return a simple favor! Happy now?” I had clearly given her everything I ever received! With the way she twisted the truth, I ended up becoming the liar in everyone’s eyes. As a result, later that night, when a fishbone got lodged in my throat and I choked, everyone just sat there laughing and watching. They were convinced that not only had I lied about the gift money, but I was also trying to scam them for medical bills.

In my past life, my selfish son stopped caring about my husband and me after marrying a woman who followed her mother's words like they were holy commandments. In fact, he orchestrates an accident to kill my husband and me under the influence of his wife and her family. It's all so he can inherit our fortunes earlier than expected. When I'm reborn, I look at my son, who's rotten to the core, and decide that I don't want him anymore!

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?]

The night before our big offline meetup, my roommate took one look at my internet boyfriend's photo and declared it was a fake. "Using a stolen photo for an online romance? He's definitely insecure and too ugly to show his real face!" The next day, my boyfriend texted: [Sorry, something came up at the last minute. Can you wait half an hour?] I breathed a sigh of relief because I had just been notified about an exclusive expert lecture on campus. Word was, the speaker was an academic powerhouse, and the university had paid a fortune to secure him. I snagged a seat in the front row. But the moment I looked up at the podium, my stomach dropped. Why did this famous scholar look so much like my boyfriend in the "stolen photo"?

Captured by Alpha Raven, Knight the rogue seemed to be enjoying the time spent in the cell more than anyone, and on that same night, Alpha Raven was poisoned with a strong drug? Beaten up, Knight was the one on the mission of taming the Alpha. (Dark romance warning)

It was only when I met my boyfriend's family that I found out he was the heir to Scolaris' most powerful mafia family. The Cabellos’ family rules stated that any woman who would become the Donna of their family was required to have fifty million worth of personal assets to their name. For Ian Cabello's sake, I scrimped and saved and worked hard in the real estate industry to finally save up forty million. However, my company started to face problems when we started to lose contracts. I failed to put together the remaining ten million, no matter how hard I tried. Ian held me in his arms to comfort me as he told me how he would figure out a plan to help me put the money together. When my little sister suffered a sudden heart attack and required a large amount to pay for the surgery fees, I tried swiping three cards but discovered that I did not have enough money in them to make the payment. I hurried to the bank to inquire about the insufficient funds, only to be told by the cashier that there was no money in my accounts. How was that possible? I had saved up my hard-earned forty million in the accounts! The person-in-charge looked at me guiltily. "There was a forty-million withdrawal by Signorino Ian to purchase a villa to be gifted to Signorina Lucy Carter as her birthday present."

“You paid me to fuck you raw, Lilah. Now you’re carrying my baby… and I’m nowhere near done with you.” Lilah Moreau wanted revenge. After catching her politician fiancé balls-deep in another woman on the night of their engagement party, she did the one thing guaranteed to destroy her “perfect fiancée” image. She hired the most expensive, most sinful callboy in the city. No names. No strings. Just one night of filthy, no-limits sex. The man who showed up was pure sin — tall, tattooed, brutally dominant, and dangerously skilled. He fucked her like he owned her. He made her scream, beg, and come harder than she ever had in her life. By morning, she left ten thousand dollars on the nightstand and disappeared without a trace. Four months later… she’s pregnant. And the callboy is back. Except he isn’t a callboy at all. He’s Damien Vale — ruthless billionaire, CEO of Vale Capital, and a man who never forgets what belongs to him. Now he’s standing in her living room, eyes dark with raw possession, one large hand possessively rubbing over her slightly swollen belly. “You ran from me once, little wife,” he murmurs, voice low and filthy. “Paid me like a whore and thought you could hide my child from me. Cute.” He leans in, lips brushing her ear: “Time to pay up properly… with this sweet pregnant pussy, every single night.

Waking up hungover next to my arch-nemesis – the city's most notorious fuckboy? Worst. Morning. Ever. I handled the walk of shame with icy dignity, but fate had a bigger curveball: one month later, two pink lines. My baby. My rules. His involvement? Zero. My flawless plan hit a snag when morning sickness ambushed me in the office restroom. He walked in. His eyes locked onto my still-flat stomach, darkening with something dangerous. Before I could blink, he had me pinned against the cold tile wall. "Who's the father?" he growled. I met his glare with a frosty smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know? Definitely not you." Then it happened: a hot tear hit my neck. His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don't... don't leave me. Please." Me: ...Dude. Seriously? THIS IS YOURS!

I took my husband's suggestion and got myself a college-aged boyfriend. Only then did I understand why my husband never came home whenever he was with his college-aged girlfriend. In simple terms? It was too damn good. I let the young man stay in our house. I let him wear my husband's pajamas. I let him drink my husband's wine. I even gave him my husband's research data to help him write his thesis. I stood my husband up on a date so I could celebrate my boyfriend's 100th day with me. He responded by shoving me onto the bed, his eyes bloodshot. "Today's our third wedding anniversary, Madeline! Why do you only seem interested in spending time with him instead of me?" I stared at him in confusion. "What? You're the one who said we had an open relationship and that I could take another lover too!" I shot back. "I'm just doing exactly what you told me to!"

I woke up staring at divorce papers—from the guy I'd crushed on all through college. My name. His. Right there on the page. He said I cheated. Last thing I remembered? Getting ready to finally tell him how I felt at our graduation party. Now suddenly, we've got a four-year-old. And him? He looked at me like I was some rando off the street. No trace of the sweet, soft guy I used to know. Just ice. What did I miss? What the hell happened in the last five years?