Darling Dad Novels & Stories

I turned around to face Dad, arching a brow, "You want to be invited to the Charly Gala?" He gave me a sour look and tossed his hands in the air. "Who doesn't?" "Oh. I thought you didn't like stuff like that, Dad," He shrugged. "Man needs to step away from machines from time to time." He looked pretty down about it. I wanted to tell him I could convince Gavriel to get him an invite. But knowing Dad, he would refuse it, or order me to not say a word to Gav. Men and their pride. "So Gav's going to prepare and stuff and I'll be going with him,"

"You don't get to talk about him, Quentin. That baby was doomed from day one. Nobody wanted him. Why bring him here just to suffer?" I stepped forward, slow and silent, like something already gone. Blood slid down my legs, thick and warm, leaving smeared footprints behind—little bits of what used to be. I stopped inches from him. My voice? Empty. "Even his dad wouldn't claim him. So tell me—who was actually waiting for him?" Quentin's lips tightened, but his eyes gave him up. Full of fear. Shaky. Shattered. His mouth opened. Nothing came out. He had nothing.

“Stop it, Dad! I don’t want to!” Cheesy shouted, her eyes watering, her breath coming in gasps from her emotions. In the large office, Mr. Ethan, Cheesy’s father, stood behind a large desk. His body was sturdy, his face stern, his gaze cold as steel. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Cheesy! You’re ruining your future for that lowly man!” Mr. Ethan’s voice boomed. Cheesy stood in the middle of the room, her fists clenched. “I love Daryl, Dad! He’s not a lowly man. Daryl works hard, he’s honest, and he loves me!”

No matter how old he got, she would always call him that. "Gisting with dad, old lovebirds. Anyways Mom, I’m good. How are you and Dad?" "Ooh, we're still very young lovebirds. Don't be jealous.. We’re just fine, dear," she replied cheerfully. "Your father went in to have some coffee, but I can get him if you want to talk to him too." "Actually, yeah," Dazzle said, his heart pounding in his chest. "Could you get him? I’ve got something I need to tell you both."

Their names are penciled right under the figure corresponding to them. My best dada, Dada Dale Daniel. My loving mama, Mama Clarriese Zyah. And it's me, the little one, Dhyrine Denisse. "My daughter is good at drawing," Zyah commented on her daughter's work. "Our daughter, wife," Dale said. "Our daughter." He gave emphasis to the latter. "Let's celebrate your birthday, dada!" their daughter interfered. "You are getting older, dada!" "Am I still handsome even if I am getting older, 'nak?"

Karen Redclaws, a man of generosity fallen in love with a girl who he always wanted to be his mate. When he overheard the conversation of his dad from a faraway land, repeatedly saying the word DARLING, he straightaway craved to see that girl. He insisted to accompany his dad all the time, whenever he was decided to visit his Darling. He would be denied by his dad to take care of their land and their people in his dad’s absence.

Dahlia My phone started ringing right when I was in the middle of fighting with a stupid water valve that had decided today was the day it wanted to act possessed. Dad’s name lit up the screen. I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder, still cursing under my breath as I twisted the damn thing. “Yeah?” “How’s my favorite daughter?” “I’m your only daughter dad. What do you want?” He laughed, that deep chuckle that always made me soften even when I didn’t want to. “Can’t a father check on his child without an agenda?”

she asks Tracy. "Yes," Tracy smiles. "Nick's dad is Daryl Harrison. "Wow! Really?" Denise smiles at me like it's Christmas morning and I just became her favorite present. Who knew dad's reputation was so widespread or so helpful? I just stare at her beautiful smiling face. "Can I see your portfolio?" Tracy asks.

My sister always got away with everything, so I naturally became Dad's favorite guinea pig to make an example of. When we were little, my sister refused to eat vegetables. He threw me into the bathroom, locked me in for five days without food, and starved me until I vomited blood. My sister was so terrified that she never dared to be a picky eater again. When we got older, she became obsessed with video games. Dad tied me to the computer and ordered me to play nonstop for thirty hours until my eyes bled. My sister swore she would never touch a computer again, and only then did he stop. Later, once puberty hit, my sister refused to wear thermal underwear. When Dad found out, he threw me

Similar to the blue aura I saw around Barke that night. “He ordered the attack on our pack, AND he imprisoned you,” Dad suddenly says, his eyes strict and cold, “I hope you can figure out where you stand, Dahlia, instead of falling for the charm of that devil.” “You know him?” I frown in surprise. I had never heard of Damon’s name before he took me home, but Dad sounds like he has known Damon for a while. “Only through your mother’s words, and you know how rare it is for her to talk bad about someone behind their back,” Dad snorts.