My Billionaire Stepmother and Seven Sisters

The moon cast a soft glow over the grand estate, bathing everything in silver light. Inside the mansion, silence reigned, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the grand clock in the hallway. In the master bedroom, the small figure of the protagonist lay curled up against Mama (Emma), his tiny hands clinging to her silk nightgown as she gently stroked his hair. His breathing was soft and even, a sign that he was deep in sleep, completely safe in his mother's embrace.

On the other side of the bed, the father sat awake, watching them with a mixture of longing and sorrow. His son had once clung to him in the same way, resting his head against his chest, trusting him completely. But now, the child refused to even meet his eyes for too long. The distance between them felt unbearable.

He knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had left his son in his brother's care, trusting that he would be treated with kindness, but instead, he had suffered—beaten, neglected, and left to fend for himself. Every time he thought about it, guilt crushed his chest like a vice. How could he make things right? Would his son ever truly forgive him?

He couldn't let things continue like this. He needed to do something. And he needed help.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out, gently shaking Mama (Emma)'s shoulder. "Emma… wake up," he whispered.

She stirred slightly, blinking drowsily. "What's wrong, my love?" she asked softly, careful not to wake the child.

The father hesitated before sighing. "Come with me. I need to talk to you… and the girls."

Emma looked at him with concern but nodded. Carefully, she pried the child's tiny fingers from her gown and placed a soft kiss on his forehead before getting up. Together, they moved silently through the mansion, waking each of their daughters one by one. Within minutes, all of them were gathered in the luxurious living room, yawning and rubbing their eyes but attentive.

"What happened, Father?" Olivia, the eldest sister, asked, sensing the seriousness in his expression.

The father sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I need your help," he admitted. "I want to get closer to my son. I want him to love me again."

At his words, the sisters shared knowing glances. They had already noticed how their father struggled whenever their little brother ran to them instead of him. They had seen the sadness in his eyes when the boy would shy away from his touch but easily melted into Mama (Emma)'s embrace.

"I'm his real father," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "I should be the one playing with him, spoiling him, making him laugh. But whenever I try… he pushes me away. And you all—Emma, my daughters—you all have these beautiful moments with him. And I—" He clenched his fists. "I've missed so much time already."

Mama (Emma)'s eyes softened with understanding. "My love…" she whispered, stepping closer and taking his hands in hers. "We never wanted to take your place. But love cannot be forced. It must be earned."

Isabella, the fierce military leader of the sisters, crossed her arms. "So, what's your plan? How do you want us to help?"

The father looked at them all, determination shining in his eyes. "I want you all to help create opportunities for me. Give me moments where I can be with him alone. But more than that… I need you to help him understand that I love him, that I regret everything."

The sisters exchanged looks before turning back to him. Lily, the gentle professor, spoke up. "We'll help you, Father. But you have to promise something."

"What is it?"

Mama (Emma) smiled mischievously. "Whenever I want to play with my son, you won't stop me. Even if it's your time with him."

The sisters grinned. "Us too," Charlotte added playfully. "We won't let you take all the time with our baby brother."

The father blinked, then let out a deep chuckle. "Alright, alright. I promise."

At that moment, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. For the first time in a long while, he had hope.

The Next Day: A Special Father-Son Day Begins

The next morning, Mama (Emma) and the sisters set their plan into motion. It started small—Mama (Emma) pretending she was too busy to feed their son, gently nudging him toward his father instead.

"Baby, Mama has an important call right now," she said sweetly, stroking his cheek. "Why don't you let Papa feed you today?"

The boy frowned, looking uncertain. He glanced at his father, who held a spoon, waiting patiently.

"Come on, son," his father encouraged, keeping his tone gentle. "Just one bite?"

After a moment of hesitation, the child slowly opened his mouth. The father's heart swelled with warmth as he carefully fed his son, savoring the small victory.

Later, the sisters 'accidentally' got too busy with work, making it so their little brother had no choice but to spend the afternoon with their father.

At first, he was stiff and distant, but as the hours passed, he slowly began to relax. They played with toy cars, built towers with blocks, and even read a picture book together. The father took every moment to shower his son with love—patting his head, praising him, calling him "my little prince."

Finally, as evening approached, the boy yawned, rubbing his sleepy eyes. His father hesitated before gently scooping him up into his arms.

The child stiffened for a brief moment before sighing softly and resting his head against his father's shoulder.

The father swallowed the lump in his throat. He held his son closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Unbeknownst to him, Mama (Emma) and the sisters watched from the doorway, their hearts melting.

The plan was working. The bond was slowly being rebuilt.

And they wouldn't stop until their family was whole again.