Independence Familial Bond Short Stories & Novels

My son, Jasper Cole, won the gold prize in an art competition. When I took off my apron and rushed to the award ceremony, I found that the painting titled 'Mother' was not of me but Maeve Leighton, my husband's secretary. Maeve pretended to be troubled as she told my son, "Your mom will be sad when she sees this painting." However, Jasper was unperturbed. "What does her sadness have to do with me? She's an ordinary-looking and incompetent housewife, always nagging me about what I can and can’t do. She's too strict with me. It's annoying! Maeve, I wish you were my mother. My dad doesn't like my mom at all. He's only happy when he's with you. He's only with my mom because he feels obligated." My heart broke at that moment. Since he no longer wanted me as his mother, it was pointless for me to stay. I called my dad. "Dad, I want to go home. Can you pick me up?" My dad could not believe it. He answered after a long pause, "Of course. I'll come pick up my brilliant daughter in three days."

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

The Volkovs. The most brutal family in Russia. Their Don was holding our arms deal hostage. He wanted the De Luca princess. Isla. My adopted sister. I was their biological daughter. The blood heir they found in the slums twenty years too late. But Isla was the one they actually loved. The news broke. My mother walked into my room for the first time in forever. “Aurora, my best girl. You know how fragile Isla is. If she marries him… that man will break her. He’ll kill her.” My fiancé, Julian Caldwell, heir to the Caldwell family, made me a candlelit dinner. He held me, kissing me softly. “You’re so much stronger than her, Aurora. Please. Do this for her. I’ll give you a private wedding. Just us. Even if I can’t marry you for real, you’ll always be my wife.” Even my father—a man who never smiled at me, the Don of the De Luca family—actually slid a blank check across the desk. “Take her place instead of Isla. Name your price. Anything you want.” They were so sure I’d say yes. Because I’d always been that pathetic girl. Desperate for their approval. Willing to do anything. But not this time. I was done. I looked at the blank check and laughed. “A blank check? Not even close. I want one hundred million dollars. And a blood contract that cuts all ties. Forever.” They had no idea. I wanted more than that. In seven days, I was going to give them a gift. I wanted their lives.

I've decided to leave the country. I'm done competing with the son my parents raised in my place. I'm done begging them to love me. But the parents who always favored him are suddenly panicking. "Bennett, why don't you fight with your brother for our attention anymore?" A week ago, an earthquake hit while we were on vacation. Dad scooped up the son they'd raised, still fast asleep, and ran for the exit. Even as Mom fled in a panic, she didn't forget to grab the stray dog he'd brought home. They flew back to Port Ellery that same night and posted more than a dozen family photos, celebrating that they'd made it out alive. Not one of them remembered me. I was their real son, and I was still buried under the rubble, waiting to be rescued. That night, I called my mentor. "Professor Everard, I'll go to Valdoria with you. I'm going to settle there, and I'm never coming back."

The day my parents divorced, I turned my back on the mother who loved me and clung desperately to my cheating father. In my previous life, I chose my mother without hesitation. Because the family never accepted me, she spent the rest of her life suffering for my sake, enduring endless scorn and hardship. This time, as I looked into her heartbroken eyes, I walked away without a backward glance. Five years later, I was scraping by at a seafood market, spending my days gutting fish amid the stench of saltwater and blood. Just as I expertly sliced open a fish's belly, my mother appeared. Her heels clicked across the damp floor as she navigated around puddles left by melting ice and approached me. She covered her nose in disgust, looked me up and down in my stained, shabby clothes, and let out a cold laugh. "No matter how hard you wash, you still reek of fish. This is the life you chose when you picked him over me. “The Cooper family's notorious young heir is about to form an alliance with our family through marriage. “As long as you kneel and beg me, I'll give you a chance to live a better life. What do you think? “You know I always mean what I say.” The contempt in her voice was unmistakable. I swallowed the metallic taste rising in my throat, flashed a carefree grin, and stepped closer. “Not only am I not kneeling, but you’ll have to kiss me first if you want me to go.” Just one kiss would be enough to get me through the last month of my life.

On Christmas Eve, my mother sent a long gift list to our family group chat. It had everything from sports cars to diamond necklaces. I was full of anticipation, but when the gifts were finally handed out, I realized the sports car was for my brother, Luca. The rest—the diamonds, the Hermès bags—were all for Mia. Mia was our family’s adopted daughter. Her father used to work for my Papa and took a bullet for him. Because of that, the Sterling family had raised Mia as their own flesh and blood for ten years. Not a single gift was for me. When I asked my mother about it, she stated the obvious: "Julian is your fiancé. He’ll have something prepared for you." "Mia is so pitiful for losing her father because of us. We have to give her the most love, right?" I wanted to scream that I needed gifts from my family too, but I kept my mouth shut. I looked over at Julian, only to find he hadn't gotten me anything either. Instead, he was smiling, handing Mia a custom gown he bought for her. Sitting on the sofa at the edge of the grand hall, watching them, it finally hit me: there was no place for me here. Looking down at my phone, I signed an overseas deployment contract with Doctors Without Borders to a field hospital in Colombia. Five years. No returning home. I decided to leave for good, and never come back.

My cousin had been pretending to be mentally disabled and freeloading at my house for five years. He scared off two of my ex-girlfriends and drained my parents’ retirement savings. This time, he set his sights on my cunning girlfriend, who was a company president, and sneaked into the guest room. He ended up pinned to the floor by her. My mother rushed in and slapped me. “He cannot help the way he is, but what is your excuse? Couldn’t you just let it go?” My girlfriend remained perfectly calm. She pulled up three months of security footage and said in a flat tone, “You might want to save your outrage until you see what your precious boy’s been doing every night.”

My little brother was the weakest man on the ship. He was a pirate, but he couldn't even lift a blade. Other pirates his age had already taken plenty of plunder, but he spent his days fussing over jars of medicine. He was always saying that fighting was bad, that it was too rough. He was bullied throughout his childhood, and I always stepped in for him. Later, I gave up piracy, got married, and came ashore to settle down as a wife. I didn't see him for a long time. Then one day, my husband, Duke Edgar Windham, brought his pregnant lover home. To make me accept that bastard child, he drugged me. "Helga, as long as you're a good girl and accept this child, you'll still be my wife. "After all, you don't have any family to back you up, do you? "That brother of yours is probably off somewhere fiddling with his herbs." When I refused, Edgar began beating me, and he never stopped. One day, after he'd nearly beaten me to death, the castle door was kicked in. A tall figure stood in the doorway. "Edgar, touch my sister again. I dare you."

After finishing work for the day, I checked my phone and realized I had been added to a group chat called "Catch the Thief." The members were my parents, my brother, Brian Wise, and my sister-in-law, Paulene Wise. I typed a question mark. Paulene replied instantly. [My jewelry is missing. I didn't add you here to accuse you or anything. I just wanted to ask what you think. Honestly, there's no use for other people in our family to take my jewelry, so I've been wondering... I'm not saying you definitely stole it. But if you did, you don't have to deny it. I'm willing to give you a chance to make things right.] My mother said nothing. She just kept tagging me over and over. I let out a small laugh and typed back. [Maybe Brian took it and gave it to his side piece. I'm not saying he definitely has someone else. Just that men his age sometimes start looking around. I'm only guessing here. And if he really did mess up, you could give him a chance to make things right, too.]

In the Moonstone Pack, every daughter received two moonstones after her first shift. When she found her mate, they were set into matching bonding bracelets. Two weeks before my twin sister Selena and I were supposed to hold our mate ceremonies, my brother came home carrying one black velvet box. Inside lay a pair of platinum bracelets set with four moonstones. All four belonged to Selena now. She burst into tears. Mom pulled her into a hug, while Dad warned Tyler that the entire Grey family would come for him if he ever hurt their precious girl. No one saw a problem. I looked at my brother’s empty hand. “Where are mine?” Noah blinked. “Selena’s design needed four stones, so I used yours. You don’t care about traditions anyway.” Mom cut me off before I could answer. “They’re only bracelets. You make good money, so buy another pair. Don’t ruin your sister’s moment.” As they closed around Selena, I finally understood. Whenever they said their daughter, they had never meant me. Fine. They could keep the family they had chosen. I was done begging to belong to it.

As the price of gold soars, my late mother, Eleanor Hutchinson, appears to me in my dream. She tells me she has left a gold bangle on my nightstand. If I wear them, they'll bring me wealth and bless the child I'm carrying. But after I find the bangle, I give it to the rabid dog the neighbors keep locked up. In my previous life, my younger sister, Irene Owens, and I marry two brothers and become pregnant at the same time. During a prenatal checkup, the doctor says Irene's baby appears to have severe birth defects and recommends terminating the pregnancy. She doesn't take it seriously at all. That very day, Mom comes to me in my dream, and I find the gold bangle on my bedside table. After I tell Irene about it, she slips the bangle onto my wrists. She says, "You always say Mom favors me. But after she dies, you're the first person she thinks of and approaches. Just wear them." I do exactly as she says and never take the bangle off. But on the day we give birth, Irene delivers a healthy baby boy with rosy cheeks and a loud, vigorous cry. My baby, however, is born with two sets of reproductive organs. The child isn't breathing the moment it's delivered. Before this, every prenatal exam has shown that my baby is healthy. I realize Irene and the bangle must have something to do with it. The sight of my horribly deformed baby drives me insane. In a fit of rage, I dig up Mom's grave and confront Irene. "Why does Mom keep paving the way for you even after she's dead?" She has me committed to a psychiatric hospital. I waste away in despair until I die. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Mom first appears in my dream.

After my parents moved into their new house, they kept refusing to let me see it ahead of time. It wasn't until Labor Day that my mother, Gloria Grant, finally sent me the address, being all mysterious about it. Mom: [Allie, come home, quick! This year, the five of us are spending our first Labor Day together in the new house.] I hurried over with a box of pumpkin tarts in hand. In the entryway, four pairs of custom-made slippers sat in a neat row. There was gray for my father, Martin Grant, and off-white for Mom. My older brother, Fred Grant, and my younger sister, Lily Grant, each had a pair too. I looked down and searched for a long time before Mom finally dug a pair of disposable hotel slippers out from the bottom of the shoe cabinet. "I forgot to have a pair made for you. You hardly ever come home anyway, so it doesn't matter what you wear." I said nothing, not until Lily excitedly dragged me off to tour the rooms. She had a walk-in closet, and Fred had a gaming room. Even the space by the balcony had been partitioned off into a tea room just for Dad. I came to the last door. Inside was a folding bed. Mom smiled. "This is the guest room. You'll stay here whenever you come back." I stood there, stunned, for a long time. So when they moved, they hadn't simply forgotten to ask which room I wanted. From the very beginning, it had never occurred to them that this home needed a room for me. At dinner that night, Dad raised his glass. "From now on, our family finally has a real home." I smiled and clinked glasses with everyone too. But under the table, I quietly withdrew from the job that would have kept me in the city and accepted a position twelve hundred miles away. They had already moved into their new home. It was time I went to find mine.

On the way to the hospital in my daughter's car, my legs felt cramped, so I adjusted the angle of the passenger seat. A second later, I heard a soft snap from beneath the seat. A toothpick had broken. I jumped in fright as my daughter, Marissa Langford, slammed on the brakes, her face turning pale. "Why would you touch that? Tyler set that seat to a specific position on purpose. He uses it to check whether another man has been sitting in the passenger seat. How am I supposed to explain this now?" Realizing I'd caused trouble for her marriage, I immediately sent Tyler Ashford, my son-in-law, an apology. Hours passed without a reply. Eventually, all I received was a cold laughing emoji. Thinking Tyler was upset, I bought two expensive bottles of wine and personally went over to smooth things over. However, when Marissa opened the car door, I finally saw what was covering the passenger seat. It was a custom seat cover. Embroidered across it in glaring letters were the words: "Tyler's Exclusive Seat. No Old Bastards or Dogs Allowed". My vision went black with rage. Seeing me standing there without moving, Marissa frowned impatiently. "Tyler's just immature. Are you really going to be this petty and hold it against him?" I laughed. "You're right. I am petty. That's why the $20,000 I give you every month ends today. From now on, you're on your own."

I am the only person who refuses to abandon Sophia Quinlan when she gets kicked out of the Quinlan family. I work to expand her network, secure funding, and piece together a business empire of our own over these six years. Zachary Lund, her first love, returns from abroad on the very day she becomes the CEO of Quinlan Group. I spend six years busting my back for her, while Zachary spends those same six years keeping her company from halfway across the world. She begins to regret marrying me so early, so she secretly goes behind my back and promotes Zachary to be her personal secretary. Later on, a business rival Sophia has backed into a corner suddenly barges into the banquet carrying an improvised bomb. The crowd scatters in panic. Zachary doesn't even hesitate to leave her behind, breaking free of her grip and running for his own safety. I am the only one who stays behind to protect her from the blast, leaving my body completely shredded from the explosion. In the last moments of my life, I cough up blood and hold onto her hand as I ask the question I have kept inside for six years. "Have you ever, in the past six years—" Sophia pulls her hand away from mine before I can finish speaking. She runs toward Zachary, who is screaming over a scratch on his arm from the shrapnel. It turns out the answer is right in front of me the whole time, making the question pointless. I close my eyes for good this time, a smile of relief creeping onto my face. When I open my eyes, I find myself back on the luxury cruise ship on the day of my wedding with Sophia. I take off my boutonniere without a second thought, strip off my wedding suit, and plunge right into the sea to run away from the wedding. I notice a sea of people gathered just as I reach the shore, with loudspeakers blasting the wedding march. It is then that a woman clad in a wedding dress walks up to me and asks, "Will you marry me, Robert Lister?"

On the day my daughter, Lily Bellini, turns one month old, my mother, Margaret Bellini, hands me adoption papers. "You and Victoria are twins," she says. "Rather than adopting a child from an orphanage, she’d be much better off taking your child." My twin sister, Victoria Bellini, has been married for five years, but she's been so busy with her career that she remains childless. Now, however, her husband, Alexander Cordone, needs the perfect family image to land a major promotion. So, just like every other time over the past twenty-odd years, she turns to me. When we were kids and Victoria needed to pad her résumé, Mom snatched the coveted summer camp spot I worked so hard to earn and handed it to her. When we grew up and she wanted to get into a top-tier law firm, Mom drained my college fund to pull strings and open doors for her. And now, she wants a child, so Mom sets her sights on my daughter. For the first time in my life, I tell Mom, "No." But clearly, neither of them takes my refusal seriously. Victoria has already picked out a new name for Lily, and Alexander has even made an announcement on Instagram. "After a long wait, our little angel is finally here." Watching them brazenly try to steal my own flesh and blood, I finally snap. I point straight at the front door and snarl, "Get out!" Mom's face instantly darkens. "You're a penniless single mother. Raising that child by yourself will only drag you straight to the bottom of society. By taking her off your hands, Victoria is helping you cut your losses. You should be grateful." I grab the whiskey bottle off the table and hurl it into the fireplace. In the past, when I was crying helplessly, there was no one around to protect me. But now, I can protect myself.

In New York's Cosa Nostra, girls were lining up to marry Matteo Rinaldi. The Don’s heir. My sister, Stella, and I both attended the selection gala. Stella was the favorite. The future Donna. But she wasn't chosen. The family swarmed her. Comforting her. I stood in the corner with the diamond ring in my hand. The one from Matteo. I wanted to tell them. He chose me. But the words wouldn't come out. Because a nightmare had just flashed through my mind. A vision of my future. In that vision, I told them everything that Matteo picked me. Stella, humiliated, bought a ticket to Europe the next day. I married Matteo. But my family wasn't happy for me. They saw me in my wedding dress at the church. Their first words: "If you hadn't stolen Matteo, Stella would still be here. She wouldn't be suffering in Europe." Later, Stella met Nolan in Europe. The Pakhan of the Russian Bratva. The Rinaldi family's mortal enemy. My parents used me. They spied on the Rinaldis, feeding intel to Stella to help her marry Nolan. Matteo found out. He called me a traitor. Threw me in a dungeon. Ruined my face. I finally escaped. I begged my parents to save me. But they were gone. They had a new life in Russia. That's when I knew they never loved me. And now, I clutched the ring in my hand. A bitter taste in my mouth. I'll give the ring back. I’m not marrying into the Rinaldi family. If they never loved me, then I’m gone for good.

After my mother, Yolanda Quinn, becomes chairwoman of my grandfather's company, she abandons Dad and me to be with her old flame. My poor father, Paul Carson, still waits day and night, hoping she'll change her mind and come back to him. Even when he becomes seriously ill, he still can't stop thinking about her. Unable to bear watching Dad die with regrets, I call Yolanda. Yolanda says impatiently, "How many times do I have to tell you? Make an appointment with my secretary!" I look into Dad's desperate eyes and plead, "Ms. Quinn, Dad doesn't have much time left. Please come see him one last time. That's his last wish." When I refuse to back down, she snaps, "What? Is seeing me going to bring him back to life? Why is he still hanging on? If he's going to die, then let him die already! Don't waste my time." She hangs up. Dad completely loses the will to live and dies with resentment. I close Dad's eyes. "In the end, she gets her wish."

My daughter’s kindergarten held a family event, and I rushed there, only to see her holding hands with my wife’s male secretary. “Daddy,” she said, “I wish our family could stay like this forever.” I watched as the three of them hugged, radiant with happiness. Suddenly, exhaustion washed over me. Later, I filed for divorce. Then I left to teach in rural villages for thirty years. If I couldn’t light the lamp in my own home, I’d at least illuminate the path for others.

The day my mother, Dahlia Moone, gives birth to my younger brother, she goes into obstructed labor and suffers a catastrophic hemorrhage. My CEO father, Graham Kovane, orders every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room because his mistress, Selena Langford, says, "Her crying is giving me a headache." That day, both Mom and my unborn brother die. Not long after, I'm framed for a mistake I never made, driven out of the family, and left to survive on the streets. Living on the kindness of strangers, I fight my way up from nothing. Step by step, I rise until I become the head of Rockstone Tech, controlling a fortune worth billions. On the day of the annual evaluation for promoting interns to full-time employees, five candidate files are placed on my desk. My assistant, Ingrid Nelson, taps the file at the top of the stack, her voice full of admiration. "Ms. Campbell, Monica Kovane is exceptionally capable. Her performance has earned full marks from every department manager." I open Monica's profile, and my eyes stop on the family information section. Even in the worst of times, I will never forget those two names on the paper. After a long silence, I tell Ingrid to bring all five interns into my office. The employment contracts are handed out one by one. When only the last person remains, I look up and meet her confident gaze. She's almost certain the position is already hers. Calmly, I slide a termination letter across the desk. "Unfortunately, Ms. Kovane, you didn't pass."

When they dumped my sister Ayana Vale's body into the altar, it was in pieces, mangled beyond recognition. I overheard the warriors who had dumped her body there. They said she had been framed for conspiring with a witch to harm Lilith Voss, Silver Moon's future Luna, and had been subjected to dozens of brutal tortures before she finally died. "No one really believed she was working with a witch. They only had Lilith's word for it. But the Alpha refused to let Ayana defend herself. He simply decided that Lilith's miscarriage had been caused by a witch's curse. Poor girl kept calling out for her sister right up to the end." That was how I learned what had happened to Ayana. I was away sacrificing my wolf in exchange for the Moon Goddess's protection over the pack. Before I left, Soren Blackwood, my childhood friend and the Alpha of Silver Moon, had sworn to protect Ayana. But he had branded Ayana a witch's accomplice and condemned her to brutal torture for the sake of another woman. I looked down at Ayana's broken body, and a bitter laugh escaped me. Day after day, I prayed at the altar, sacrificing myself to secure a century of prosperity for the pack. And they had repaid me by torturing my sister to death. If that was how it would be, then the pack I'd spent so long protecting was also mine to destroy.