Book The Son の小説・ストーリー

I argued "I was not talking about their daughter, I was talking about their son" my father said "Son? What son?" I asked him "Paul Smith has a son called Noah, his first wife, Aria and him had a son but when she died and he got married to Vivian, the son was not seen by the outside world" my father said "And how did you know about the son?" I asked "I have my ways and Paul Smith owes me money so he sold his son in exchange " my father said .

He‍ fl‌ips slowly through the⁠ worn pages o‌f Matthe⁠w’s fa‌vorite b‌ook, reading quietly about the silly adventures of a loud, mis‌chievous puppy. My heart stutters pain⁠full‌y in my che‍st. It‌ feels like it might sh⁠attered or maybe it alr‍eady has, this cannot be r‌eal. My son should not look like t‍his beside a‌ man li‌ke him. He should not b‍e soothed by a mobster’s voice, lulled into safet⁠y by‌ hands⁠ that have known violence and yet… he is.

I ask, though I already imagine the answer. "No, but when I find those bastards, I'll make them pay with their lives for what they did." When he says this, a slight shiver runs down my spine. I don't want to imagine the bonbon facing my father. "Do you know someone who calls himself The son of the Mafia Queen?" I inquire apathetically. "The son of the Mafia Queen?" My parents exchange glances, and with that brief look, I know they know his identity. "Why do you want to know that, Liza?" My mother asks me with a tense smile on her face.

He can understand them. Still, I don’t know what’s keeping me from telling him, Diva and I got into a fight earlier, she kept insisting I tell Zeke..what I am doing is so wrong, but still... “Mother?” I hear a tiny voice just below me and I gaze down to see my son, Leor. He’s holding a book in his hands, strands of his messy blonde hair falling out of place, normally he’s supposed to be hanging out with his sister, but it seems like our new visitor has gotten Leora’s eyes.

He didn’t turn to look at me, but he replied. “You are quite predictable,” he calmly said. Predictable, me? We would come back to this by the time I have successfully escaped from your grasp. I nodded, and pushed further “so where are you taking me to?” I asked. He flipped through the pages of the book he was reading “Italy” Hmmm, Italy. Nice. It’s close to home. I moved further “so…what is your son like?” This time, he turned to look at me, as he shut his book close. I guess he was already frustrated?

"See, Thanatos intended to put that life-and-death book to death, so he unleashed his favorite monster to murder me; thankfully, with him, I escaped death thanks to you. The notebook was also burned, don't you find Thanatos' angry expression funny?" I watched the back of the demigod boy, he was not like the legendary demigods I knew, he was simply an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts, he didn't look like him at all, like the son of Hades, or rather, perhaps Hades had forgotten that he had this son, I chased after him to keep up with the boy's footsteps and said softly, "Why steal the death book, and then climb to this distant Italy? I heard that madman say you want to help your mother…”

sure that my son wins the games'' Alpha Damien said, he is the type of man that stands on the motion that a boy is better than a girl, he will do everything to make sure that his son beats every other competitor and most especially Kelvin and Sophie’s daughter. they started thinking of ways to make sure that his son beats all the children, being an extremely proud father, Damien had always made sure his son had the education, best teacher and the best training any man could have, he made sure to spend on his son, he is not only good looking but also smart and his idea of perfect, Phil has always being extraordinary, he had always made his parents proud, a young man who could fight and read

I wrote three words, the ink dark and permanent. “The Books Closed.” I closed the ledger and handed it to Leo. "The story is yours now, Leo," I said. "Write a better one than we did." Dante wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against his side. We stood there, the Butcher and the Prince, watching our son walk toward the command center not to be a ghost, but to be a king.