Stepmother Novels & Stories

Her dazed eyes remained clear, like crystal pools, unbelievably looking up at Lysander's towering figure. He stood beside her coldly, like an untouchable sovereign, not even bothering to cast a glance her way. From his sharply defined, stern features and the icy orbs radiating danger, Claire unmistakably read Lysander's disdain and repulsion toward her. Her half-brother despised her. A chill crawled up her heart. Claire quickly averted her gaze, attempting to conceal the pain in her eyes. Her stepfather willingly married her mother without coercion. Neither she nor her mother had any intention regarding the Hayward wealth. Would Lysander truly stand indifferently by and watch her get hurt?

And by the way… you can call me mom from now on, my dear. ''Really?'' I focused my cold gaze to her with a raised brow, the corner of my mouth curved into a smirk. ‘‘Are you sure, mommy?’’ ‘‘Of course, sweetheart!’’ she said, hurrying forward and grabbed my hand. ‘‘We are family, Celestine... Although I’m your stepmother, I can treat you like my own daughter just like how I am treating your sister…’’ What's her drama this time? I couldn't help but chuckle as I wrenched my hand away from her grip. ‘‘I apologize, but I don’t need another mother. I only have one mother and her name is Sandra…’’

My grandpa, Victor, the former Alpha of Ever Moon Pack, slowly rose from his seat and walked to us, patting me on my back. “Glad you are home,” he said in a hoarse voice. My father Barnie didn’t stand up, but he was smiling warmly at me. Sitting by his side was a beautiful woman in her early thirties and she was the only one in this room who had absolutely no smile on her face. My eyes met with her, and a shiver was sent down my spine. That was my stepmother, Connie. My mom died when I was a baby and my dad remarried when I was 8 years old. Growing up I had heard many fairy tales about vicious stepmother, so I was terrified abou

The housekeeper became my stepmother, and together with her son, they plotted to kill me. After being reborn, I exposed a video of her affair at her own wedding, destroying her reputation completely. I watched as she and her son were kicked out. They left with nothing, wandering the streets like outcasts. I smiled and tossed a moldy piece of bread into their begging bowl. “This is all you deserve.” …… When I opened my eyes, I found myself back to a week before my dad’s wedding to our housekeeper, Megan Zimmerman.

I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes locked onto the PA's face, eager to hear the rest of the story. The PA's expression turned somber, his eyes clouding over as he delved into the past. "That time, your stepmother was your mother's PA," he began, his voice low and measured. "We never knew she had fallen in love with your dad. So, she went to tell your mother's ex about how your dad used to care for her."

I called it pointless excess. She thrived in unnecessary grandeur. The kind of woman who believed more meant power. But all I saw was waste. “Ohh, look who we have here, Cassian Moretti…” Her voice called as she walked down the stairs with her guards. I bowed slightly, performing my filial piety. She is the lady dowager of the Moretti household and my stepmother, even if I hate her with utmost passion. “I heard you’ve finally brought home that woman who birthed that boy…” she said with that dismissive tilt of her chin, pretending to strain for my son’s name.

"Rhea, maybe you should set a better example, too." Rhea suddenly stood up. Her tone was calm, but a faint tremble was audible in her voice. "Carter, why do you treat me like a stepmother but expect me to act like a birth mother?" "Stepmother?" Arielle grew agitated. "Mom, who's the stepmother?" Rhea kept her eyes fixed on Carter. She didn't scream or raise her voice. She simply sounded confused. "Have I not done enough for you and the kids all these years?"

“You wanted her to come between us. And now look at what’s happening.” “Is it too much to ask,” Father yelled, “for your sister to work alongside you?” “She isn’t my sister!” I shouted back. “She isn’t our blood! The company has been running perfectly with me. Why bring in a stranger?” “Oh, is that what you think of us?” my stepmother sobbed, her hand on her chest. “Strangers?” Tears streamed down her face. “I thought of you as my son. But you…” “You never thought of me as your son,” I shot back. “If you did, you wouldn’t be trying to steal what’s mine.”

Delicate, polished, enviably untouchable. “Do you remember what I told you?” I asked, stepping into the room, my arms folded across my chest. “You are Grace; from this moment forward, Leila Marrow does not exist to you. And I…” I took a deep breath and continued. “I am your stepmother.” Leila turned her gaze to me, her lips curved into that obedient smile she had mastered. “Of course, Mother. I understand everything you told me last night.” “Very well, then.” I gave her a slight nod. “When it’s time, I’ll send someone to fetch you. Stay in this room until then. No unexpected movements.''

Her voice was full of sobs, every word squeezed out from deep in her chest. “Honey, I followed you without asking for anything and gave birth to our son. How could I possibly harm our own flesh and blood? “Every day I rack my brain cooking for you, keeping this house in perfect order. Have you forgotten all of that? “Your misunderstanding of me doesn’t matter. What I’m afraid of is your being fooled by this ungrateful brat and regretting it for the rest of your life!”