Is 'The Strong-Willed Child' Worth Reading For Parents?

"I asked you a question, Olivia," he murmured. "Are you going to see him?" "No," I choked out, the word broken and final. "No, Daddy. I’ll stay. I’ll stay here with you. Just please... please..." "Good girl," he growled, the praise vibrating against my skin. "You finally learned how to beg properly." ———— Chandler Sterling came back bound by a promise—nothing more. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Olivia Perez was never supposed to matter. She was off-limits, untouchable, too young—the daughter of the one man he could never betray. Once, she was just a little girl in the background. Now, she’s grown. Defiant. Reckless in a way that gets under his skin and refuses to leave. And the more he watches her, the more something inside him starts to unravel. It begins with control—stepping in, setting limits, reminding her who she belongs to. But it doesn’t stop there. Because his anger lingers too long when she’s with her boyfriend. The thoughts he’s having were never supposed to exist. On the other hand, Olivia knows something has changed. Chandler isn’t the same man she once admired from a distance. He’s colder now. Harder. Watching her like she’s something he needs to keep in line… or something he’s trying not to take. And maybe she should be afraid of that. Of him. Of the way his control feels less like protection and more like possession. But fear isn’t what she feels. Because the line they’re standing on isn’t just dangerous— it’s already breaking.

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?

Raising your own child was natural. But raising another’s child was totally different. When Hannah wholeheartedly played the mommy and daddy role to Elisha, it had been her greatest fear to one day have the child’s real parents knocking on her door to take their unwanted baby back. But for four years, Hannah and Elisha managed to live peacefully. Just when Elisha’s real parents, Olive and Nate were about to tie the knot, Olive was found pregnant with another man. To be able to have her freedom, she told Nate, who surprisingly had no knowledge that he fathered a child, about Elisha. Furious that his daughter was kept secret from him for years, Nate took Elisha from Hannah. But up to what lengths could a mother go to keep her child? Even if Hannah didn’t give birth to Elisha, she’d do everything in her capacity to fight for her daughter. Even if it would mean going against the heartless and dangerous Billionaire, Nate Sarmiento in the process. Even if it seemed like she didn’t have a right, Hannah still raised his child and that’s an irreversible fact. But would Hannah survive the harsh treatment before she could even see Elisha again? If she would, what about from Nate’s charms? Could her inexperienced heart handle the danger of falling in love with a man who loves someone else?

When Mom punishes me, her palms are sweaty. I know she's even more nervous than I am. She's scared that others will accuse her of favoring me. When the rest of my classmates perform poorly in class, all she does is tell them to review the lesson and do a few more exercises. But when I'm the one who does badly, she points at the field outside the window. Despite the burning midday heat of June, she commands, "Julia Swanson! You're going to stand out on the field and memorize all the words you messed up. You're not allowed to come back in until you know everything by heart!" Everyone in the classroom looks at me. One of my classmates mutters, "Ms. Campbell is being way too hard on her own daughter." Mom hears that comment, and her eyes flash with satisfaction. That's precisely what she wants everyone to see. No one will dare say she's biased toward me if she punishes me the most harshly out of all the students. "Why are you still here?" she barks at me. "Get out. You think you can get into a top college with grades like yours?" The classmate sitting next to me tugs on my sleeve and whispers, "Why don't you try asking her to go easier on you? It's blazing hot outside." I shake my head. The most futile thing I can ever do is ask Mom to go easier on me in school. She prides herself on her professionalism as a teacher. It's a matter of principle to her. But she has forgotten that it's over 104 degrees Fahrenheit outside. Not wanting to disappoint her, I stand out in the sun. The blazing hot air dries up my sweat—and my tears. Eventually, my vision goes blurry. The world seems to spin around me… As I collapse onto the ground, I hear Mom tell her colleague, "I'll just get a popsicle as a gesture and bring that stubborn daughter of mine back inside later." She has no idea that I won't be able to accept her olive branch anymore.

This is the seventh year of my arranged marriage to Frank Jackson, yet he is constantly seeing other women. Because of that, I become known in our circle as the ever-tolerant wife. Everyone is watching and waiting to see when a mistress will finally replace me. But when I unexpectedly get pregnant, I hear a furious voice screaming at me from my belly in my mind. "Mommy, are you some holy saint? In your past life, you kept tolerating everything. That was exactly why my scumbag dad's mistress drove you out and left you for dead on the streets! "That vile woman is practically trampling all over you. How can you not fight back? Slap her! While you're at it, give my fool of a dad a good slap, too! The more you tolerate, the more people push their luck. You need to stand up for yourself and divorce that scumbag!" I swallow nervously, but my hand is already itching to act. Maybe I should try doing what the baby says...

Mom was a top student at a prestigious school and had always been determined to be the best at everything. She demanded that I learn to walk by seven months, speak fluently by eighteen months, and master all addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division by the age of three. I did all of it. Yet Mom still felt it wasn’t enough. However, when my younger brother, Liam, didn’t speak until he was five, Mom clapped and cheered when he finally did, celebrating his “late-blooming brilliance”. I didn’t think anything of it. Until one day, I was wearing headphones, memorizing Spanish words, and accidentally let the sound leak out, scaring Liam. He clutched his chest and cried, saying his heart hurt. Mom’s eyes turned red as she stormed over and slapped me. Then she grabbed my ear, twisting it a full 360 degrees with all her strength. The pain in my ear was so intense that I lost all feeling, and the fear made me nauseous to the point of vomiting. Still, Mom forced the headphones back on, cranked the volume to the maximum, and locked me in the storage room to reflect. “How could I give birth to such a terrible child? You’re just jealous of Liam. No matter how much I do for you, you’ll never appreciate it! “Love listening to words, huh? Then listen all you want.” But seven days later, when she opened the door, she completely lost it.