Dysfunctional Family Therapy Bl Novels & Stories

After my eight-year-old twin sister was kidnapped, my dad became the person who wished for my death more than anyone else in the world. He would always say, "Zachary is an ungrateful brat! A good-for-nothing!" So, when the news of my disappearance reached the school, my dad leads everyone in cheers. He even spreads word of my misdeeds everywhere. "Zachary stole a poor student's tuition fees and even made a false police report accusing the teacher of hitting him!" "That's right! He even helped traffickers kidnap children—his own sister was almost sold by him! I hope he dies soon!" Five years later, my memories are extracted and projected onto a large display screen. And yet my dad, who hates me to the core and wishes for my death, falls to his knees and begs for my forgiveness the moment he learns of my death.

It was my birthday. I thought he would take me to see the fireworks by the sea, but he showed up with another woman and her child. “Vera has a kid with her, and it’s inconvenient for them. Be a little understanding. She doesn’t know her way around here, and she has a lot of luggage. I’ll just drop them at the hotel.” He said it so casually, as if he were just explaining some trivial, everyday chore. It was that very gentleness of his that made me feel like I was so unreasonable getting angry over it. He helped them into the car. He leaned down to buckle the seatbelt on the child. Then, he turned to me with a smile. “I’ll be right back. Don’t overthink things.” I stood by the roadside and watched them drive away like a picture-perfect little family. As night fell, the sea breeze turned sharp and biting. Still, I waited until a notification of Vera Cannon’s social feed update lit up my screen. He was holding her daughter in his arms. They were watching the fireworks by the beach. It was a surprise I had planned for my own birthday. The comments poured in. [What a perfect match. What a beautiful little family!] Someone asked him why he was not picking me up. He just smiled and said, “Indy is very patient. She won’t be mad.” At that moment, my birthday cake melted into a puddle of frosting. I finally realized that he had not done that to be cruel to me. He was certain that I would always wait for him. However, even the warmest heart grew cold when neglected too many times. The waves crashed against the shore, over and over. With each crash, another shred of my hope washed away. This time, I was not going to wait for him to come back.

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

I was Claire Vitale, the lost daughter they forgot, the bride my lover betrayed—and the dying girl they failed to notice. For five long years, I lived like a stranger in my own home. The Vitale mansion was a beautiful prison, where every kind word hid a lie, every promise was false, and even Lawrence, the man I was supposed to marry, cared more for Vanessa than for me. None of them saw how my body weakened each day, how the pain grew sharper. They were too busy watching their precious Vanessa. Vanessa—the perfect adopted daughter, was the girl my parents loved more than me. She came into our family when I was lost, and when I returned, I found my place already taken—by her. Just as the illness was quietly taking my future. Now she was gone, and they all pointed fingers at me, convinced I was behind her disappearance. The machine they strapped to my head would pull memories straight from my mind. "Where is she?" my father roared. My mother sobbed in the corner. Lawrence, my fiancé, stood silent—his accusing eyes louder than any shout. But I knew the truth would shock them—how Vanessa hurt me, how she faked accidents, how she made sure no one ever believed me. The machine would show them everything. As the machine began its work, I trembled—from fear and exhaustion. After all these years of being unheard, would they finally see?

I was once the beloved daughter of the powerful Alpha and Luna of The Midnight Ridge Pack. I thought I had everything—a loving family, a protective brother, and a perfect fated mate—Steve Dolton, the strongest Beta of The Midnight Ridge Pack and the man I had loved for eighteen years. But when I turned eighteen, my world shattered. I discovered that I had been switched at birth and that Penny was the true heir of the pack. In an instant, I became the most awkward existence within The Midnight Ridge Pack. Though my parents promised I would always be their daughter, when Penny offended The Rogue King, they didn’t hesitate to make me take the blame and threw me into the infamous rogue den. I endured torture from silver chains and wolfsbane, my body covered in scars, becoming the lowest slave in the rogue den. It wasn’t until the fifth year that my brother-Alpha Joe and my former fiancé- Steve, came to the rogue den to take me back to The Midnight Ridge Pack. I overheard the casual chatter of the servants. "Does she seriously think she can come back?" "She made Miss Penny suffer outside for over a decade, stole ten years of happiness from her, and now she has the audacity to return and keep taking what belongs to Miss Penny. Shameless." "I heard that bringing her back this time is to help Miss Penny..." My throat tightened, and my palms grew cold. "Julia, come back home with us. We were wrong about you!" "Steve and I will treat you twice as well. You're still our precious little princess!" Amid their urging and apologies, I loosened my hand grip on the tattered hem of my dress. I had already promised to marry the son of The Rogue King. Our wedding was just around the corner.

I was diagnosed with late stage the Hollowing—Wolf Soul Degeneration. According to the Compatible Soul Restructuring Program, I could survive by receiving a soul transplant. If no match were found, I would be brain-dead in three months. After more than two months of waiting, the soul that matched me best was given away by my mate to my sister. The therapist recommended that I keep waiting for a new match, but I refused. I signed a treatment waiver and left Central Medical Center early. All the wealth and resources I had spent years saving—I gave every last bit to my sister, Lisa. For the first time, during the full moon family dinner, my parents smiled at me. My mate moved into Lisa’s room to take care of her. I did not get angry. I even made him breakfast. Even when my little pup asked if she could be his mom, I nodded and said yes. I gave them everything they wanted. So why are they regretting it now? …

After fifteen years away, I was finally brought back to the DeLuca family. I thought I was returning to my real home. Instead, I walked into a house where the adopted daughter wanted me dead, my father treated me like a burden, and my brothers would rather watch me bleed than make her cry. On my first day back, she set dogs on me. That night, I was dragged to the top of the observatory and forced to apologize to her. When I fell from the tower covered in blood, they still called me a liar. Because in the DeLuca family, I may have been the real daughter by blood— but she was the daughter they loved. She thought she could bully me, poison me, and freeze me to death without consequence. She was wrong. Because the night I nearly died, my mother finally chose me—and turned a gun on the whole DeLuca family.

Heating starts on the 15th, so I give my mom the money to pay the heating bill two days in advance and ask her to pay it for me. But a week passes, and it still feels like an icehouse in my apartment. I am on the phone complaining to my younger brother's wife, Selena Lyons, who lives upstairs. "You are right not to pay the heating fee. I paid, and it made no difference. We're freezing to death here." From the other end of the call, I faintly hear my nephew shouting, "Mom, it's so hot! I want a popsicle!"

When my boyfriend came to my family home to ask for my hand in marriage, my sister-in-law, who was usually cold and aloof, became a completely different person. She flung her arm around me warmly and asked, “Cassie, who’s your favorite? This boyfriend or one of the dozen or so men that you’ve brought home before?” As I denied her accusation and interrupted her, she cheekily batted her eyelashes at my boyfriend and cooed, “Oh, yes, yes. Cassie has never brought another man home. You’re the lucky first!” In the midst of dinner, she deliberately took her own soiled underwear out of the bathroom, pinched her nose, and waved it around as she screeched, “Oh my goodness, Cassie! I know you don’t really care about hygiene, but we have guests today! How can you have no shame? It smells so bad!”

The day my college acceptance letter arrived, Dad cooked a whole table of my favorite dishes. Then he poured himself a full glass of liquor and downed it in one go. “Nineteen years ago, I switched you with my biological son so he could grow up with the city’s wealthiest family and live like a prince. “I kept you from studying because I was afraid you’d turn out too impressive and they’d come looking for you. “But today, their whole family is moving overseas. You’ll never find your real parents now.” He smiled cruelly. “You’re just a loser who got into some mediocre college. You were beaten half-deaf, and you’re missing a kidney. Why would they ever want you back?” I looked at him in silence. What he would never know was that the wealthy family had switched the babies back nineteen years ago. I had been his biological son all along.