Dr Doofenshmirtz Daughter Novels & Stories

Her best friend. “Fine, I’ll figure something out, wait in the living room.” When my daughter was gone I shook the man in my bed awake. “Hey, I’m pretty sure we fucked last night,” I said when his eyes opened. “Are you sober enough to drive me to drop my daughter off at school??” He groaned as he sat up and looked around. “I don’t have my car,” he said. “I can call a rideshare app now, I’ll pay.” He yawned. “I’m Andrew by the way.”

Would you finally be happy if I died? Everyone froze, stunned by my outburst, then quickly grew enraged. My mom dropped her pretense of kindness and snapped, "Carol Lowe, what are you doing? Are you trying to embarrass us?" My dad waved the housekeepers away before barking, "Shut up! You’re a Lowe, not some screaming lunatic!" Shane sneered coldly, silent but brimming with disdain. I trembled violently—my lips, my hands, my entire body shaking uncontrollably.

I was the host that day, yet I didn't receive a single glance from my mother, as if I were her enemy instead of her daughter. During a break, I went to the restroom and accidentally overheard a conversation between Wendy and her friend. Her tone was smug, as if she had pulled off some grand feat. "Luckily, your uncle holds a high position at that old witch's company and helped me gather her preferences! Now that I've successfully become her daughter, you all can expect some benefits in the future!" Her friend chimed in, "I heard she hates pick-me girls, so you'd better not get caught! Haha… just thinking about how easy it is to manipulate that old hag makes me laugh!"

But had Sandra really snatched the alpha or was scarlet just being a bitch for the hundredth time today? "This is not a place to make noise; now lower your voice, kid,” doctor Franzel said to his daughter who had walked into the house screaming. He had been watching a documentary on the tv when he heard his daughter yelling her lungs out in frustration. If he didn't know any better he would have easily assumed that his daughter was nuts, but wasn't she? The woman seemed to have a lot of frustrations lately, but damn she needed to learn how to not be a nuisance to others too.

Zoey leaned closer, wiping away the crumb of toast from her daughter's lips. "Can Uncle Rafa take me out today?" The girl's eyes were pleasing enough, quite confusing. "Pretty please?" "Alright." She had that stern parenting gaze on her. "I have got to meet this Uncle Liam you ramble about." Her hands moved to her daughter's stomach before another round of tickling. "Oh. Mother!" • • • "I don't want to drink today." Hell, he meant it, the way Dexter shifted in his seat, like it was uncomfortable, like he had been here before, and that time was scary, that day changed his life.

“The founder of some famous fashion brand here. All her nasty deeds got exposed—including her b*stard son’s picture. Honestly, the kid looks pretty alright, but the stink of his mother, who committed manslaughter? Brr. Heard the kid’s a doctor, too, but that career’s crashed and burned now. No hospital in this area would want such a controversial man in their establishment, I can tell you that.” Deirdre’s mind went blank. She grabbed the doctor’s arm, her voice rising. “W-Which family is this? What is the name of the son?” The doctor jerked. “Uh, the Fuller family? The son is named Sterling or something.” Deirdre felt a force crashing against her chest, turning her entrails into mincemeat. H

I was about to slam my fist against the door again when it pulled open and a doctor with glasses similar to mine peered out, dressed in a scrub, with some surgery equipment in hand. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he straightened, slamming the door shut behind him. "Mr Frost… Is the little girl your daughter?" He asked me, and if it were under different circumstances, I would have snapped at him, but at the moment, I just wanted to be sure that my daughter was fine. "Purity Frost, yes. How is my daughter doing?" I asked him at once, moving closer to him like I would not be able to hear what he was saying unless I drew near.

They let her through without another word. She marched through the sleek lobby in boots and a black tank top, her hair still messy from sleep, but no one dared stop her. Lydia pushed open her father’s office door without knocking. “Dad! What the hell is going on?” she barked, storming in. “Ruth, I said no visitors!” Mr. Zander yelled. He quickly stood behind his desk the moment he realized it was his daughter, startled. Before he could answer, Lydia eyes landed on the reason.

I shook my head. "Just the dread that I might one day succeed in killing my mother," I joked and looked over my shoulder at the woman. There was a frown on her face as her eyes dug into my own. "Come on! It is a little bit funny! The killer Queen's daughter kills her own mother, very poetic." I joked again and Miranda tsked in response. This wasn't a laughing matter to her, nor should it be to me, either. "When you need something, just let me know. I will try and brew another sleeping potion for you. Your mom says you have trouble sleeping as of late."

"Just look at what you're talking about. Here's your daughter lying with blood and you are asking me to think about what people will say?" "That is not what I meant, and you know it," my father said trying to play smart "I know exactly what you meant," Damien said. "You're more protective of the Harrington name in public, and you would rather manage the story than manage the fact that your daughter nearly died three floors above where we are standing right now." In the middle of everything, here was the Doctor. A man named Dr. Reyes who ignored the tense atmosphere like he had walked into worse before, setting his bag on the edge of the bed and looking at me with an expression that asked me