Novel & Cerita Young Stepmother

She raised her hand and returned a tight slap to her stepmother! “Loyle Enterprise? Ha, I’m not interested.” “Ahh! B*tch! How dare you hit me?” her stepmother wailed.

“Did you miss me?” Her auburn hair darkens. Her face shifts, aging slightly. And suddenly I’m staring at my stepmother—the woman who died when Alistair attacked our pack. Except she’s not dead. She’s very, very alive. And she’s a witch. “No,” I breathe, my legs going weak. “No, this can’t…” “I’ve been playing you all like puppets,” Kate, my stepmother, continues, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Orchestrating every tragedy, every betrayal, every death.”

I gasped, running forward before a hand shoved me back. “Stay out of this, girl,” one of them growled. “She lives here,” my dad wheezed through blood. “She’s got nothing to do with this—” “Actually,” the tallest one said with a wicked grin, “she’s got everything to do with it now.” I blinked. “What?” My stepmother, through sobs, suddenly snapped her head up and screamed “Take her!” Silence. My ears rang. “I—I said take her!” she shrieked again, pointing at me like I was a coat she didn’t want anymore. “She’s young. She’s pretty. You want something in return for the debt? Take her!”

“I didn’t hear you.” He didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on her. “I’m Liz,” she added hesitantly. “Are you… a relative of Damien’s?” He studied her for a long moment. Then he spoke. “Are you the new lover my father is keeping?” Her stomach dropped. Okay, what was she supposed to say to that? “I—no,” she said quickly. “I’m his stepdaughter.” The Vampire cut her off with a sharp laugh that ended with a scoff. He began circling her slowly, like she was something to inspect. Liz felt her most uncomfortable at this very moment.

My voice cracked as anger replaced my despair. She chuckled. "Of course, we did. What did you expect? I wasn’t about to let you walk out of here and live the life your mother never could. My Sofia deserves everything, and you deserve nothing." Tears streamed down my face as I rose to my feet. "What did my mother ever do to you? What did I ever do to you?" "She existed," my stepmother said coldly. "And you’re just a constant reminder of her. Every time I look at you, I see her smug face. But don’t worry, it won’t be for much longer. Soon, you’ll be gone for good."

It was heartbreaking how no one saw through his constant smile. Moving towards him, I ran my thumb over his face and felt him shudder in fear, his face lowered. My hand cupped his face up to look at me. “I won’t tell your Father, I promise. Besides, I’m not just your Father’s wife. I’m your Mother, too. Step-Mom, but still the same thing.” I assured him and watched his pupils dance.

When my grandmother died, and Dad took me under his care, Susan played the role of my mother. Susan blushed, smiling gently and holding my hand. “You’re like your mother,” she sighed, lifting her other hand and cupping my left cheek. “Your dad can’t lie to me. I know he sees Sofia in you. Your eyes,” she said, grazing my cheek. “And you know what else?” I shook my head. My stepmother pressed her palm on my chest. “Your kindness and…” she chuckled, probably reminded her of something amusing about Mom. “Hard-headed.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I hate her for being so rational.”

She then smiled shyly and left. Her gesture caught me off guard, filling me with a surge of excitement. It was a clear sign—she cared for me just as deeply as I cared for her. Perhaps dating her was the best decision; it would bring me closer to my children. For the first time in what felt like forever, the prospect of peace and happiness seemed within reach. ******* "How dare you lay your filthy hands on my son!" Stephanie, my stepmother, roared immediately as I stepped into the mansion. The mansion is just a five-minute drive from mine; it's a larger and grander version of mine.

“You have disowned me and kicked me out of the pack, so why are you even here?” I didn’t know why, but as the question leaves me, I feel a small sense of hope. Would my father acknowledge that he truly cared? Honestly, why did I even care after everything I endured because of him? It was much too late for him to make up for it. “You heard her,” my stepmother huffs. “She’s ungrateful and thinks she is too good for us now that she has a rich and powerful husband. But just you wait,” she continues, fixing her narrowed gaze on me. “Just because you’re married to him doesn’t mean that he will be with you forever. The new moon is coming, and one of these days he will find his mate.” I can see the