Daughter In Italian Novels & Stories

My vision gave out and distorted until all I could see were blurred figures, coaxing me to shut my eyes and reopen them again. “Her name is Gianna De Luca, the only daughter of Leonardo and Samantha.” The smile etched on her face as she continued was one that resonated from the depths of her being. It was as if she was talking about some kind of god who descended to earth, to make her life magical.

Her friends eat it up, fawning over love alliances when even love itself is rare in la familia. “Aww, that's so sweet.” Mrs Fontana says, her gaze on me. “Sei cosi fortunata, Sasha.” (You're so lucky, Sasha.) Mrs. Benelli affirms. “Anuche lui e fortunato,” (He's lucky too.) Mother casually remarks, her tone is placid, genuine. “Mia figlia è molto bella, è una vittoria averla al proprio fianco.” (My daughter is very beautiful, it's a win having her on his arm.)

And then, they’d arrived at Manfredi’s side and Damiano, once again, made the introductions. “Papà, this is Thea, my wife. Piccola, this is Manfredi Chiaramonte, my father.” “Buonasera (Good evening), signor Chiaramonte,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “‘Signor Chiaramonte’? There’s no one here by that name, ‘mia cara’ (my dear),” he answered gruffly. “I am Manfredi. And since you are my daughter-in-law, I urge you to call me by my name. Or ‘papà’, if I’m not asking for too much.”

I put my six-year-old daughter in my mother-in-law’s hands as I was busy with an overseas project. Every month, I would send her 20,000 dollars in allowance, not including holiday cash gifts. My mother-in-law would always talk about how well my daughter ate and slept during every video call. In the video, a feast was always laid before my daughter. So when her teacher claimed that she had fainted out of hunger during class, my first thought was that she must have called the wrong number. I rushed back home and headed straight to the hospital. The doctor said that my daughter was suffering from long-term malnutrition and her weight was far below the average. She also had severe post-trau

(Daddy, why was the pretty woman angry with you? Oliver held Michela snugly and sighed once more. "Perché Papà l'ha ferita, principessa," (Because Daddy's hurt her, princess). He consumed his beer while looking at his mother, who was shaking her head at him in tears and resentment. "Don't," he said to Alice when she parted her lips. "Bring her back first." She gritted her teeth and sped into the house. * "Hey, baby." Her daughter sipped the glass of Chardonnay she had poured herself the second she got inside.

Sera asked with her eyes filled with confusion. “Go on, sweetie. Say, Mom.” The duchess looked at her with anticipation. “Mom…” She blushed after saying that one word. How could she dare call the graceful and elegant duchess in such a childish way? She was a noble daughter. Was it really fine for her to act that way? “Can you say it again?” Stephanie’s face was lit up after she heard her daughter call her that way. “Mother, you’re unfair. You never asked us to call you that way.” Andric pouted.

“You don’t get to use that. You have a double target on your back now. Questa non è la figlia che ho cresciuto (this is not the daughter I raised).” “Dad, I’m sorry, I just…” “Please, let’s hear your excuse for this dumb mistake, bella (beautiful).” Valentina cringed as she heard Giovanni’s voice. Sure, she might be able to fandangle her way out of her dad’s anger, but she knew next to nothing about Vinny’s and had no clue how to act or what to say.

says General Oris " I heard that you recently took in the daughter of Nyx. Maybe she could even the playing field because even you can't take on the son of Zeus, two children of Poseidon, and another daughter of Hades all by yourself," says Eses "No, she's only 10 years old; she should be protected, not thrust onto a battlefield," I say

She exclaims, her voice rich with an Italian accent. (“Come here!”) As she pulls away, she kisses my cheek, her hands grasping my shoulders tightly. Her eyes sparkle with a kindness I’m unfamiliar with, telling me, “You call me Tina, okay?” I manage a sheepish laugh, still processing what’s really happening when Tina turns her attention across the fire pit. “This is my daughter, Alessandra.” She calls, “Vieni a dire ciao, Alessandra!” (“Come say hello, Alessandra!”)

She’s like me. “And you know me, sissy. I am Povetta De Niro, the only daughter among these morons.” Povetta, who was bolder, said. She had no fear for her brother. “Aitana couldn’t join us, Arielle. Our daughter is only four months old and it wasn’t ideal to leave our sons alone for a long time. But I hope we’ll get a chance to meet. Perhaps, in the States.” Alessandro said. “Let’s have our dinner. I have business to attend.” Vincent cleared his throat and the dishes were served by the maids which the guards tasted first before we could eat it.