Stepmother Marchen の小説・ストーリー

“I refused to let you mark me, and also refused to run away with you. You felt rejected, so you decided to hook up with your chosen mate to feel wanted. I totally get it.” “No, no, I would never do that to you. I don’t even like her!” “I’m not mad, Theo. You were just fulfilling your obligations as the prince of Castillo Tribe. As your stepmother, I’m very proud of the step that you’ve taken.” Stepmother? Was this some sort of joke? “It may seem as though my peace around here has been compromised as well. I’ll leave now, and I would appreciate it if you do not follow me.” Even if I wanted to follow her, that thought died immediately when she showed that creepy smile again.

Maren My stepmother's voice was a knife in the dark, sharp and cold. "We can't afford you anymore, Maren. You're twenty-five years old. It's time you earned your keep." I stared at the floorboards of my father's study, counting the splinters. "I work hard. I've always worked hard. I'm not a burden." "Not as hard as your sister," my father said. "And your sister is marked. She has a place in the pack. You don't."

Sophie was in high spirits, as usual. “So,” Sophie said with a mischievous grin as they reached the lecture hall. “Tell me more about your stepfather. After seeing him the other day, I have been wanting to ask about him. He is so hot. Like, seriously. If he wasn’t your stepdad, I might be interested. That silver-fox thing he has going on? Total daddy material.” Monalisa’s cheeks burned. “Sophie!” “What? I’m just saying. He’s tall, muscular, that commanding presence… total fantasy material.”

Her eyes glowed with that same unnatural golden color I’d seen in the mountain. I didn't really understand the connection between these two. They both wanted the same thing and they were willing to work together to get it then tear each other apart when it comes to whom should wield it. It was sickening and I never thought that my father would side with someone like her. He was a totally different person. All because of what? Power? “Son,” Victor said with a cold smile. “You’ve been busy. Breeding your stepsister like a good Alpha should.”

He walks to the counter and slides a manila folder toward me. "Michaela Marcus? Gloria's daughter?" My stomach drops. The bread dough suddenly feels heavy in my hands. "Who's asking?" "I am. On behalf of my client." He taps the folder with one finger. His nails are clean and trimmed. Everything about him is precise and controlled. "Your mother married a man named Richard Moore six months ago. Three weeks after the wedding, she transferred forty-seven million dollars from his accounts and disappeared." I wipe my hands on my apron, leaving flour streaks across the yellow flowers. "I haven't spoken to my mother in eight months. I don't know anything about this."

Xyla was utterly speechless. Mother? Was she worthy of that title? “You’re not worthy,” Jeremy snapped coldly. That one sentence was enough to put Xyla at ease. “Alright then. Stan, we met yesterday. I’m May Conner, Xyla’s stepmother. Welcome to our home,” said May, grinning. She was completely unfazed by Jeremy, unleashing her shamelessness to its full potential. It was impossible to tell that she had been at odds with them just yesterday.

“Tell me what you want me to do honey. Beg for it! Say it!” ‘Why don't you kneel and show me how good you are and make me happy? Suck it!” Suck, what?! I have seen a sex scene when my mom was raped. But I don't understand what should be sucked. “Faster! Be my slave and treat me like a king. “ “Get enough of me! Ugh! So good.” With stealth, I carefully reach the doorknob, twist it, and push the door without making a sound.

Not when I’ve clawed my way into being taken seriously in this godforsaken company. Not when one mistake could put him in line for the inheritance instead of me. So I open the door and step out. And she’s already strutting my way like she owns the damn sidewalk. My stepmother, draped in a skin-tight crimson dress that looks two sizes too small, her heels clicking like gunshots on marble. Gold chains tangled at her neck. Hair piled high. Nails long enough to draw blood. She makes a beeline for me, fake concern painted all over her heavily contoured face. But Theodore moves faster.

“Thank God. I would’ve burned everything down otherwise.” I laugh, slow and tired and real, and let Cole guide me further inside. He looks proud of Steph, of the house, of me. Of all of it. His parents are already here, his mother perched gracefully on the sofa, his father standing nearby, glass of sparkling water in hand. “This is lovely,” his mother says warmly, pulling me into a careful hug. “Steph has outdone herself.” Steph places a hand over her heart. “Validation received.” Sawyer arrives next, with Jasmin in tow. Jasmin is sixteen and unapologetically herself, arms crossed, expression permanently unimpressed by everything except the people she actually likes. She makes a face the mom

Suddenly, she scoffed, and then her eyes were fixed sternly on me. "Oh, I see where this is going. You are trying to make advances on your stepfather. I knew that you were a little whore. Slut! I had known this all along! Always stealing the attention of the men in my life! You did that when I was with your father, and now that he's dead, you have set your sights on your stepfather. You're a sick child!" My fists clenched as rage rushed through me. “Don't you dare call me a slut! If anything, it should be you. You have a daughter, but you still feel it's okay to go man-hopping. You should be ashamed!”