Book Woman's Daughter Novels & Stories

I had simply survived by chance, and somehow, I had to endure all of this. When Dad came home from work and saw me covered in welts and shivering, he finally snapped and argued with Mom. "Kendra, enough! Lily has suffered more than enough!" "She's suffering?" Mom shrieked, tears streaming down her face. "I lost my son... I'm the one who's suffering!" She clutched her belly. "If it weren't for Beau, I would've given up on life a long time ago!" Dad looked at her and shut his eyes wearily. "Wake up! Beau is gone. Lily is our daughter, not Beau's replacement."

she asked, a smile plastered on her lips, though it looks too fake if seen by someone she knows, because even if she tried her hardest best to give a truthful happy smile, her still eyes didn’t move, still the same melancholic as before. Her dark green eyes stared at her daughter in hidden sorrow, as the wolf inside her whimpered, an agonized howl escaping right after, affecting her once steady mood. Her eyelids twitched, clenching the fork on her hand, looking straight at her daughter watery eyes. Ana, her daughter, with a birthday hat topped with a number five, worn on her head, silently looked at her with eyes that was once bright in the morning, gone completely lifeless at this time.

Bastien looks at me over the top of her head with the open expression, the one that has no wall in it, the one that costs him nothing to show anymore because he has stopped keeping an inventory of what showing it costs. He is smiling. Not almost smiling. Smiling. The real one. I hold my daughter's gaze. Eight months old and she already knows what she is. She is a wolf who was wanted before she existed. She is a record that changed pack law. She is the daughter of a woman who survived and a man who learned to choose and an aunt who stood in her mother's garden in the morning and a great-grandmother who believed and a building that held. She is all of that.

"Mom was wrong. What did we do to you? What did we all do to you?" Even though Ava had already experienced it once, she still hugged the diary and cried until she shook. "Mia, look at Dad. Please look at Dad." Dad crawled to the desk. "Dad was wrong. You were never a bad investment. You're my daughter." He lifted his hand and slapped himself hard twice. "I'm not human. I forced my own daughter to death." Ava crouched on the floor and frantically searched for the forum on her phone. "I want to trade my sister back. I'll pay any price."

I'd seen her at parent-teacher conferences—she always sat in the seat reserved for Tyler's parents. "Well, well, if it isn't the Werheimers. Heading in to make a scene?" Mom tightened her grip on the umbrella. "Miriam, we're here to file a legitimate appeal. This has nothing to do with you." Miriam Johnson tilted her head and gave a polished, practiced smile. "A legitimate appeal? The daughter of a criminal trying to get into the National Defense Academy—that's a joke at the expense of national security." "My daughter's biological father was a war hero!"

Slap. Harder than the one I gave Ashley. Rachel hit the ground. The baby started screaming. I looked down at her, my voice colder than ice. "Get out." "Now. Right now." "If I see you again, you won't get a single cent." Rachel picked herself up, clutched the baby, and shot me a look of pure venom. "You're going to regret this." She left. With the child. And a check for fifty million. I stood in the empty chapel, staring at my father's portrait.

I just looked him in the eye and smiled. “You already made up your mind for everyone. So who exactly is this ‘let me choose’ performance for? The reporters? Or the people you do business with?” Seraphina blinked fast. She stepped closer, grabbed my father’s arm, and let her voice break at just the right moment. “Brielle, do not speak to Dad that way. He only worries about you. He is scared that no one will ever marry you.” Her voice carried just enough for the nearby tables to hear. Someone nodded along. Someone let out a sigh. Someone mumbled that the older daughter was so kind and thoughtful.

Hazel asked, sounding annoyed. “Well my daughter knows just where to go,” Caitlin retorted and she dipped her hand into her dress before pulling out a book. Hazel recognized it immediately. It was the book of prophecy. “Now I have decided that nothing in this book will decide what I need to do. My daughter’s fate will not be decided by a mere book. A sacrifice?” she said with a frown. “Like hell it is. I am sure you would also know how it feels if it were to be your daughter. Let this world come to an end if it must. Nothing can change that now,” she said and pushed the book into the shelf before pulling her daughter along with her and they exited the place into the night. Hazel stood there

“Your father seduced my daughter, Riela. He used her, manipulated her, for his rebellion!” Her eyes blazed, voice trembling now with restrained rage. “We barely kept her alive after what he did. He nearly killed her. And now… my daughter lives in a state worse than death. She’s lost her sanity.” She stepped closer, her presence suffocating. “So tell me, daughter of Cain, how exactly do you plan to make that right?” the Queen Mother questioned. Before Althea could respond, one of the Queen Mother’s attendants stepped forward and silently offered a small cup in front of her.

"That's exactly what you said. Don't regret this." ... The ballroom was warm and loud when I pushed through the heavy doors. Chandeliers blazed overhead. Father's cigar smoke curled toward the ceiling. They were celebrating—Bianca's confirmation as Blackwell heir, her takeover of the East Coast operations starting Monday. My arrival dropped the temperature in the room. Mother stood at the head table, champagne flute in hand. Her smile cracked when she saw me. "Gemma?" She set down the glass. Her hand landed on my drenched shoulder, light as dusting off a coat. "You're soaking. Why didn't you call ahead?"