Arnold Swansinger Son Novels & Stories

No, I was the overachieving eighteen-year-old trying to pull off being the personal assistant to one of the biggest dickheads in the history of dickheads. My dad truly did have everything planned out for the day of my interview. He paid every person attending to leave, which left me as the only option to be chosen. Gunnar wasn't all too happy with that. My interview went to shit as well. It was one thing practicing in front of my father and a completely different thing when in front of Gunnar Astor. He wasn't only a brooding, arrogant, billionaire CEO but he was also handsome to the point he could probably be a God.

Chapter Sixty-Four. Third Person's POV. Arnold son of Ren, father of Dorothy, was an experienced tribe warrior from the southern side of the continent. He was a proud warrior of their tribe, a tribe who values ​​their strength more than anything. Arnold who was in the state of adrenaline, lifted his empty hand and brushed his head. "HAHAHAHAHAHA" After laughing for a minute, Arnold finally stopped laughing. He raised his right hand and slightly wiped the tears that formed in his eyes.

He wasn't dead and the Shadow pack hadn't been destroyed. "Ornyx is alive and well according to the rogues." Captain Park spoke. Tristan stood next to her now and I saw him clench his fists. "So is his son, Xavier Van Cliffe, your father." I felt all the energy drain from my body. "No." I spoke almost in a whisper. "You guys are mistaken. My father is Terrence Swan." My voice rose an octave. "Maybe my mother was cheating on him but my father is Terrence Swan. He's my father!"

His slender fingers hinted at a level of elegance that was hard to match. Swanson. Every werewolf has heard of the Swansons of the Edge Tails Pack. They were one of the most powerful and prestigious families in the South. "Thank you, Mr. Swanson. Are you the son of Alpha Derek Swanson?" I asked in a dry voice. "Miss Lewy, please, call me Darren. Mr. Swanson is my father and I am his youngest son." Darren smirked at me. "Thank you, Darren, for helping me to regain the balance," I chuckled. I liked this guy at first sight and I knew he felt the same for me.

Arnold casually replied. With Alberto out of the picture, Arnold felt invincible. Sonia was no longer a threat to him either, as he had devised a plan to eliminate her before her hatred for Alberto subsided. "Invite Sonia for a party this week. It's time for her to meet her end," Arnold instructed the man. "Okay, Sir," the man nodded and left the room. Arnold intended to throw a grand celebration to mark the downfall of the Troy family. "What a wasted generation," he muttered, contemplating the outcome.

Helter had already told him. He had a son. A boy who apparently carried both his features and Irene’s. Dawin Ray. Arnold’s jaw tightened at the thought. Eugene would pay for everything. For the poison. For the war. For every moment Irene suffered while Arnold lay unconscious and useless inside this cave. But right now… Irene was suffering again. — “It’s time for the mixture.” Hella’s voice sounded uneasy as she helped Irene sit upright after another wave of pain finally passed.

All were still intact and frozen in their position. "My son died." Mrs. Arnold said lifelessly as she turned around and began to walk away, mumbling," My son died the day he raped an innocent. My son is dead. Dead to me." Mr Arnold gestured Minha to follow his wife, aware his wife knew what was coming for her son and that had her walking away like that. Now only Edward and Mr Arnold were there. "Come on, dad." Edward's exhausted voice came out as low groan. "Let me up, now. That fucker brigadier is gone now. You don't have to be justice King anymore."

“She’s more than satisfactory. She’s my Luna. And I would recommend that you speak of her in a manner that holds respect rather than objectifies.” For a heartbeat, the air thickened. My father’s jaw tightened, though his expression didn’t falter. “Ah, so you’ve learned to value what you were given. Good.” “I don’t think of her as something I was given,” Nolan said, stepping closer, his height casting a long shadow over the room. “She’s not a pawn. Not a gift. Not a deal. She is my wife.” My father’s smirk thinned. “That’s an honorable sentiment, Alpha. Let’s hope it lasts.”

“Do you have a name for your new son?” I smile. “This is Wilder Roan Swift.”

One of Thomas Vic's friends sneered in annoyance, "Are you satisfied showing off your future grandchild, Thomas? Just because Arnold is still a miserable bachelor, you keep making me jealous with your future grandchild!" "Hey, don't quote me in this conversation. I've been trying to be a decent gentleman who always takes care of and protects Tera. So please, exclude my name from your conversation!" complained Arnold Cavill, the son of Armando Cavill, a famous cheese company owner in their small town. Arnold and Armando knew Tera well, and Arnold was a good friend of Tera and Tora. Among the many people at the party, only Arnold and Armando were the ones Tera knew the most.