Wattpad Crazy Family

On the day Moon Spencer received the Medal of Honor, she made a public declaration of love on live television to her accompanying military medic, Xavier Quinn. “If it weren’t for Xavier, I’d have died in that storm at sea. He is the most important person in my life.” At the same time, her husband, Nathan Johnson, was lying on his deathbed at home. For years, he had taken care of Moon’s parents and raised their child alone. The strain destroyed his health, and he had little time left. He never expected that after twenty years of sacrifice, he would not even hear a word of thanks from her. What truly broke him was their daughter’s comment. “Dad, don’t you think Dr. Quinn and Mom are perfect together? You should leave sooner and make room for him.” Nathan collapsed in fury and regret. He died that night. When he opened his eyes again, he was back to the night before Moon left for her coastal deployment. This time, he refused to stay behind as the forgotten man who kept everything running. In this life, he would pursue his own dream.

When I was in the early stages of brain cancer, my parents begged me to give my sister one of my kidneys. They also told me to give them the money I had saved for my treatment. When my sister left the hospital, it was her birthday. My parents threw her a party while I lay in a hospital bed trying to get better. Later, when my mom found out I had late-stage brain cancer, she begged my sister to give me a kidney. My sister said no. So, on the day of my funeral, my mom buried both of her kidneys with me.

The day my mom was beaten up for being a mistress, I slammed the family crest into my dad’s face. I had been studying abroad, and on my return flight, I came across a video. The title read, [Richest Family’s Heirs Defend Their Mom and Beat Up Mistress.] In the video, my mother was wearing coarse linen clothes while my brothers surrounded her. They were punching and kicking her. They even tore her clothes and cussed her out as a shameless mistress. Her eyes were teary as she desperately tried to explain. However, she was only met with mocking laughter. A stranger in haute couture stood shielded behind them, and she sweetly said, “Alright, I know you’re doing this for me, but we don’t need to waste our time on ungrateful people.” The surrounding guests showered her with birthday wishes and praised her for her graciousness. “This is the grace befitting Mrs. Roth! Do some people really not own a mirror at home?” “A mistress dares to call herself Mrs. Roth? Doesn’t she know the entire Roth family was built on her assets? Which part of her looks like a lady?” Hearing them call her “Mrs. Roth,” I clenched my phone, and the screen reflected my icy expression. I had only been away from home for three years. How did I not know that I had acquired such a despicable “mother”?

My twin sister, Rebecca Shaffer, was kidnapped while saving me. The trauma left her with a mental illness that made her lash out at everyone around her. The only person who could get close to her, the only one who could calm her down, was my husband, Ezekiel Roberts. For the sake of her recovery, my parents insisted that Rebecca move into the master bedroom of my newlywed home. Whenever Ezekiel and I were intimate, Rebecca would lose control and throw things at me. Then, Ezekiel would scoop her up in his arms and carry her into the bedroom, soothing her with gentle words. Everyone kept telling me the same thing. "If Rebecca hadn't tried to save you, she wouldn't be like this now. You owe her this much!" I had no response to that, so I gave in again and again. That was, until I accidentally overheard a conversation between Rebecca and my parents. "How much longer do I have to keep pretending to be crazy? I'm so sick of sneaking around like this!" My parents looked at her with sympathy in their eyes. Ezekiel gently caressed her stomach and said, "Don't worry. I won't let Rebecca or the baby suffer even a little bit. Once I have Maisie completely under my control, I'll make everything public." I clutched the pregnancy test report in my hand and let out a bitter laugh. From now on, they would not need to keep up their elaborate charade. I would leave on my own.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

Eyang Reksa Jagad adalah pertapa yang memiliki kesaktian paripurna, seluruh kesaktian yang ia miliki digunakan untuk menumpas kejahatan yang ada di muka bumi, hingga pada titik akhirnya dia harus pergi meninggalkan dunia ini dengan cara muksa (Pelepasan Roh) di dalam Goa yang terletak disebuah lereng gunung. Perjuangannya menumpas kejahatan tidak lah berhenti meskipun dia telah mati. Karena sebelum pergi dia telah berpesan pada Biswara untuk menjaga jasadnya dari tangan-tangan jahat yang hendak memanfaatkannya sebagai sumber kesaktian. Dan tak ayal lagi perburuan mayat Eyang Reksa pun dimulai, dari kalangan pendekar aliran putih hingga aliran hitam dengan niat dan tujuan mereka masing-masing, lalu akan kah mayat sakti Eyang Reksa jatuh ke salah satunya? Dan bencana apa bila mayat sakti itu sampai jatuh ke tangan pendekar jahat? Ikutilah kisah selanjutnya hanya di Pendekar Mayat Bertuah.

My three-year-old son looked nothing like my husband. Suspicious, my father-in-law secretly took my son for a paternity test. The results showed that there was no biological relationship between them. Furious and humiliated, my father-in-law erupted in anger, hurling insults at me and even threatening to kill us. My husband, just as enraged, slapped me hard across the face. "You shameless wrench! You've made me raise another man's child for three years!" As I stared at their accusing faces, I calmly produced another report—the paternity test between my husband and his father. It confirmed they weren't biologically related either. Their expressions froze in shock. With a faint smile, I said, "Looks like we don't know for sure who isn't part of this family, do we?"

My wife transplanted the donor heart I had waited for two years for to the fake heir, Sean Morgan. The doctor said I only had one week left to live, so I decided to freeze my body. I donated my body to Sean's lab. On the day I signed the donation letter, my daughter threw herself into my arms and said I had finally made up with her uncle. My parents praised me for finally understanding the deep bond and mutual support between brothers. My wife said with relief, "You've finally let go of your grudges and become an understanding person." I smiled gently. "Yes, this time I’ve really learned my lesson. I will return the status of the Morgan family heir to Sean and fulfill your wishes.”

Around the seventh month of my pregnancy, I overheard a conversation between my mate, Zane Andrews, and Ciara Phillips, the she-wolf I had taken in out of compassion after her family was brutally slaughtered by rogues. In a sultry, flirtatious tone, Ciara purred, “Zane, my love, if your wife discovers that the fertilized egg I planted in her womb isn’t truly hers by blood, she’ll be devastated—perhaps to the point of despairing suicide, don’t you think?” Zane snorted, his voice dripping with disdain at the mention of me. “It’ll work for us if she simply dies from heartbreak. Damn it. I can’t shake the worry that she might sever our bond and leave me with nothing. Let’s keep this under wraps until our child inherits all her assets. Only then will we reveal the bombshell, plunging her into darkness.” Ciara giggled, praising Zane for his cunning. My claws itched to lash out, but I held back, knowing the time for confrontation wasn’t yet. My heart sank as their betrayal cut deep. Years ago, I had defied my pack elders’ warnings about Ciara being a potential threat, taking her in and grooming her into our pack's doctor, funding her education out of sheer empathy. Now, I regretted every moment of my kindness. To think that my mate, who had once begged for my protection for his fragile pack, had the audacity to betray me. If not for my support, his pathetic pack would have crumbled long ago, leaving him nursing his wounds in a dark corner, fretting over survival. After a long moment of contemplation, I made my decision. I would feign ignorance to their schemes and play along by giving birth to Ciara’s baby. Two decades passed. Ciara’s child grew up, bearing the name Simon Andrews. Aware of their treachery, I still transferred all my assets to him. Once the paperwork was completed, Ciara boldly approached me in front of the entire pack, a maternity DNA test in hand. With a smug smile, she declared, “Leia Holland, look at this! I am Simon’s biological mother. Leave h

My father cheated. I cut him out of my life. To get my forgiveness, my father put Lucas Moretti, the Don of New York, in my bed. I fell for Lucas, fast. He knew how to play gentle. Night after night, he’d hold me tight, fuck me like he owned me, and whisper how obsessed he was with me. Six months later, I was pregnant. I was the princess of New York's underworld. My father and Lucas gave me everything. They treated me like I was made of glass. But the day of the baby's blessing at the church? They were a no-show. My father said there was family business to handle. Then I got an anonymous link. A wedding. Live. In the video, my father, Lorenzo, was walking his mistress, Carla—the woman who killed my mother—down the aisle, a happy smile plastered on his face. And the other happy couple? My fiancé, and my father's bastard daughter, Sofia. I could hear Lucas’s voice clearly: "Well, Bella used to bully Sofia. I'm just helping her get the justice she deserves... As for Bella, it's time she was unburdened from a life she isn't built for." "I'll take over the Gallo family shares for her," he continued, "so she and our child can live without a care in the world." My father’s voice followed. "Bella’s too much like her mother—ambitious. That’s not a good thing for a woman." As my world shattered, a text from an unknown number lit up my screen: "Marry me, and the child you're carrying will be the sole heir of the Russo family."