chicken soup

My mother-in-law was obsessed with picking mushrooms. She said mushroom stew with chicken was incredibly nourishing. She often made it to boost my husband’s health. However, she never let me have any, not even a sip of the broth. Every time, she came up with some excuse to send me out on an errand. If I refused, my husband’s fists and kicks reminded me to obey. So, this time, I obediently went out like always. Even though I just had a miscarriage five days ago and the sun outside was scorching, I had to go.

My mate Derek, Alpha of the SilverCrest Pack, secretly marked me two years ago. But he still hasn't held our mating ceremony to publicly announce my position. I've been working as his "assistant," helping him manage pack affairs all this time. Every time Derek cheats with his childhood sweetheart, Vivian, he promises to finally hold our mating ceremony. Two years. Ten promised ceremonies. Ten broken promises. The first time, he said Vivian's dog had died. "I can't hold a celebration while she's grieving," he told me, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "It wouldn't be right." The second time, Vivian had a stomach ache. He left the ceremony venue minutes before it was supposed to start, rushing off to cook soup for his precious childhood friend. After that, each scheduled mating ceremony fell through because his childhood sweetheart always had some kind of emergency. I've cried. I've screamed. I've begged. Derek always gives me the same answer: "Viv and I are just friends. You're my true mate. Taking care of pack members is your responsibility too. Don't be so jealous." After the tenth canceled ceremony, I finally gave up. I slid the mate bond dissolution papers across his desk. "The Alpha Council has approved our request to break the mate bond," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "You and I are no longer connected." That’s when the powerful Alpha went crazy...

By six, Amelia had whipped up a six-dish dinner with soup—Chad Felton's favorites, of course. By seven, she'd prepped his bath, complete with rose petals and candles. By eight, his slippers were perfectly lined up by the door. At nine, Chad finally strolled in. Amelia stepped up, taking his suit jacket. "Eat first or bathe?" she asked, setting the slippers in front of him and hanging the jacket. "Bathe," he muttered, eyes glued to his phone.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

It was all her fault. My life could have been simple—40-hour shifts at KFC, sneaking extra chicken crumbs, and binge-watching reality shows. But no. Instead, here I was, standing at the altar, saying I do to a man whose idea of “casual” involved drugs, women, and murder on speed dial. Thanks, Mom. Not only did she ruin my life, but she also sold it—traded me off to the deadliest Mafia boss alive, Mario Santiago, as if I were some secondhand couch on clearance. Mario Santiago. Yeah, that Mario Santiago. The Human Terminator. The guy whose enemies mysteriously vanish like my paycheck two days after payday. And now, I was his wife. He glanced at me with a slow, wolfish smile that practically screamed trouble. That was when I knew two things: 1. I was completely doomed. 2. This man was going to wreck my heart (and probably my life). But hey, it could be worse, right? At least I’d get a killer wardrobe out of it. *** Are you looking for romance and humor? Stuck with Mario Santiago is a hilarious, Mafia billionaire romance filled with danger, betrayal, drama, and a love story you won’t forget. Dive in—you won’t regret it (but the characters might).

My usually cold and distant wife shared a bowl of soup with her newly joined colleague. Surprisingly, I felt calm, even as I brought up divorce. She sneered at me, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm exhausted. He's just a colleague of mine." "Even if we're married, you have no right to interfere with what I do with my colleagues." "If that's what you think, then I can't help you." When I actually put the divorce papers in front of her, she flew into a rage. "Ryan, do you think the Wagners were still what they used to be? You're nothing without me!"

Le mariage avant l'amour… le héros et l’héroïne à l'esprit purUne grande souffrance à la poursuite de sa femmeL'attrait extrêmeLa force et la violenceLe jour du divorce de Cynthia Lambert, un accord de divorce est soudainement apparu sur l'internet. Larecherche est devenue virale en quelques minutes avec de nombreux commentaires.Parmi eux, la raison du divorce était marquée d’un stylo rouge : L’homme souffrait d’un dysfonctionnement sexuel et était incapable de remplir les obligations fondamentales du couple.La nuit, elle était coincée dans la cage d'escalier.La voix de l'homme était basse : « Je vais prouver que je n’ai pas de dysfonctionnement. »Après son divorce, Cynthia est passée d'une petite employée de bureau à un statut d’experte la plus jeune et la plus talentueuse dans le cercle de la restauration des biens culturels.Elle s'est alors rendu compte que son ex-mari, Michel Perrier, qui avait l'habitude de rester constamment hors de la maison, apparaissait de plus en plus souvent devant elle.Lors d'une soirée, on a demandé à Cynthia ce qu'elle pensait de lui à présent. Elle s'est plainte paresseusement et a dit : « Ennuyeux et méprisable, il n’aime que celle qui ne l'aime pas. »Michel s'est approché et l’a prise dans ses bras : « Peu importe à quel point je suis méprisable, je ne vois pas que tu as un soupçon de pitié. »

“Sampung milyon. Magpapanggap ka lang na buntis ka na at fiancee kita sa buong tatlong buwan. Matutulungan kita, matutulungan mo ‘ko,” pakiusap ang certified f*ckboy ng taon na si Joaquin sa bestfriend nyang si Abby. She agreed straight away. Seeesh! So easy. Chicken feed! No big deal. Walang malisya. Halos parang nakikitira na rin sya sa penthouse ni Joaquín sa dami ng gamit nya. And so she convinces herself. Pero habang tumatagal, lalong nagiging kumportable para sa kanya ang penthouse nito at lalong lumalamig ang mga gabi tuwing mahihiga sya na nasa kabilang dulo ng malambot kama ang bestfriend. Paano nya kokontrolin ang damdaming noon pa gustong makawala? Paano nya lalabanan ang sinasabi ng isip nya bestfriend lang sya? Hanggang kailan nya kaya kayang panghawakan ang kanyang pagpapanggap?

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La vie excentrique et luxueuse du PDG Erik Fancini est écourtée lorsqu'il est accusé de crimes qu'il n'a pas commis, ce qui l'oblige à fuir et à changer d'identité. Tout semble se dégrader lorsqu'il croise le chemin de Sarah, une femme enceinte trompée par son partenaire et qui décide de mener sa grossesse et d'élever son enfant en tant que mère célibataire sans perdre l'espoir de trouver l'homme parfait. Dans des retrouvailles chaotiques et comiques, Sarah et Erik se retrouvent pour accueillir Matthiew, le bébé qui va réveiller chez l'arrogant Ceo des sentiments qu'il ne soupçonnait même pas, compliquant encore un peu plus sa vie. Erik parviendra-t-il à faire régner la justice et à découvrir les vrais coupables ? Que fera Sarah lorsqu'elle apprendra les tromperies d'Erik et son sombre passé ?