Eminem was half-asleep on the couch, remote in one hand, the faint sound of Stan playing from an old cassette deck echoing in the background. The house was quiet — the way he liked it.
Then came three sharp knocks on the door.
He opened it.
Taylor Swift stood there — wearing a white hoodie with the words “Karma Is Real” printed across the front, holding a bright red gift box with a golden ribbon, eyes calm but unreadable.
“Yo, Swift?” Eminem muttered, blinking. “You lost?”
Taylor smiled. “Nope. I’m here to thank you.”
She walked in like she owned the place. Placing the box gently on his cluttered coffee table, she opened it to reveal a pair of vintage Jordan sneakers — the exact pair Eminem once claimed he’d be buried in.
Right beside them sat a smaller pastel-colored box labeled: “Little Slim”.
“What the hell is that?” he asked, pointing to the second box.
Taylor opened it to reveal a tiny pink baby beanie embroidered with “8 Mile Baby” and a onesie that had a cartoon of Eminem rapping… next to a rubber duck.
Eminem stared.
“For who?” he asked.
Taylor gestured to the hallway. A young woman walked in, holding a three-month-old baby — Eminem’s nephew. A baby he had never met.
“He’s been listening to Lose Yourself since he was born,” Taylor said, smiling. “Every time it plays, he laughs.”
Eminem looked at the baby. Then back at Taylor. Then back at the baby.
“Does he rap yet?” he mumbled.
Taylor chuckled. “Not yet. But he spits bubbles on beat.”
There was a pause.
“I still don’t get it,” Eminem muttered.
Taylor’s tone shifted — quieter, more serious.
“Fifteen years ago, when Kanye stole my moment on stage, everyone laughed. Everyone turned it into a meme. Except you.”
Eminem frowned. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You did,” Taylor said. “I found an old audio clip in one of Kanye’s hard drives. A recording of him reading a letter… A letter from you. You told him to make things right.”
Eminem’s jaw tightened. “That was a long time ago.”
Taylor nodded. “Long enough to forget. But I didn’t.”
She stepped closer, her voice soft now.
“Some people scream to be heard. You whispered and let others shine. That’s why I came.”
She turned to leave, then paused.
“Oh, one more thing…”
She handed him a small envelope.
“That baby? He’s not just your nephew. He’s the sole heir in Dr. Dre’s new will.
You might want to start teaching him how to rap.”
News
As my husband beat me with a golf club, I heard his mistress scream, “Kill him! He’s not your son!” I felt my world crumble… until the door burst open. My father, the ruthless CEO, roared, “Today you’ll pay for what you did.” And in that moment, I knew… the real storm was just beginning.
As my husband, Andrew , beat me with a golf club in the middle of the living room, I could barely protect…
I married a homeless man who was mocked and ridiculed throughout the wedding… but when he took the microphone and spoke, he revealed a truth no one could have imagined, leaving the entire room in tears and in shock…
My wedding day with Daniel began with an uneasy murmur that swept through the church like a chill. From the…
My son hit me, but I remained silent. The next morning, I cooked a sumptuous feast. He came downstairs, saw the lace tablecloth and the cookies, smiled, and said, ‘So, Mom, you finally learned,’ but his face changed color as soon as he saw the person sitting at the table…
The sound of the slap was sharp and echoed in the kitchen like a gunshot. It wasn’t the first time…
At the family dinner, I sat there with my broken arm, unable to even eat. My mother-in-law said, “My son taught her a lesson.” And his sister boasted, “She thought she was in charge.” I just smiled. Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and he found out who really runs this house.
That night at the family dinner, everything smelled of roast beef, cheap wine, and barely contained tension. I, Emily Carter , sat…
At the family dinner, my husband poured hot soup over my head while his mother laughed. Then he said, “You have ten minutes to get out of here.” I wiped my face, took some papers out of my purse, put them on the table, and said calmly, “You’re right. Ten minutes later…”
Family dinners at the Millers’ had always been an emotional minefield for me, but that night everything crossed all imaginable…
My stepfather shoved me at the Christmas table: “This seat belongs to my real daughter, get out.” I fell to the floor in front of the whole family, but what he didn’t know was that that very night I would change his life forever…
Christmas Eve at the Harringtons ‘ house had always been an impeccable affair, filled with warm lights, soft music, and that elegant…
End of content
No more pages to load
