Father And Son Novel Novels & Stories

The obedient son who would never dream of crossing him. That son was dead. He had died the moment I read Iris's book and realized the full scope of what my father had done to me. In his place was someone else entirely, someone who had spent weeks pretending to be weak while quietly gathering the information he needed to destroy the man who had stolen everything from him.

Eugene stood right beside her with his head lowered, as though he had suffered great injustice. Ms. Hill held her phone out in front of me. "Take a look at this." Late last night, an anonymous post had popped up on the school forum. The title of the post was incredibly direct, and the content was even more so. It claimed that Eugene wasn't Ian's biological son, yet he was hogging all the resources because Ian was spending money to pave the way for him. It also implied that Ian had abandoned his ex-wife and biological daughter just to turn around and raise someone else's kid.

“Graham’s dead. “His belly had sunk in. I locked him in the cellar and forgot to bring him food. He starved to death. “Do you think Graham hated me during his last moments?” Did I hate Mom? After my father’s untimely death, Jean, just a woman living in the village, struggled to raise Tanner and me. From a single bowl of oatmeal, Tanner got the thickest oats, I got the running portion, while Jean made do with whatever was left. I resented her favoritism, but I could never hate her, seeing that she raised me all these years. “Mom, you don’t have to feel bad for Graham. I bet he starved himself out of retaliation. Don’t we keep sweet potatoes in the cellar? We have more than enough there to las

“Everyone knows it. You wouldn’t have made it past your twenties if they were still alive. Never even had a shot to be a fucking dawn. Not even second in line.” My heart thundered in my chest. Images of Amerigo and Amadeo flickered behind my eyes like ghosts. Amerigo had been my father’s first son and he had been cold as he had been hot with a booming laugh that used to scare me. Amadeo was quiet but my father used to whisper to Mama that he had the potential to be a killer. Then there was me… Mammone, my father’s voice. Mama’s boy. There was disgust in his voice.

"The Council approved my request. The bond dissolution ritual will be scheduled when we come back." The next afternoon, I finally answered father's call. "Where are you? We're all waiting at the dock!" "Why wait for me?" "For the cruise! Hurry up!" "There is no cruise. I cancelled it." "We already ate through our emergency cash. We're waiting for you to provide more money." I laughed. Typical entitled behavior. "Father, are you so broke you can't even feed your precious new family? Did buying Emily's luxury bag drain you dry?" Violent rage colored his mental voice. "This is your fault! If you'd sent me the $50,000, I wouldn't be drained! If you can't get here now, just send the money. We nee

Mother said evenly, as if we were negotiating a treaty she hadn’t wanted to win. “I promised I would,” I said. It didn’t help that I said it without shaking. That in itself was a small victory. Father looked more steely. “Without Sampson.” The name was a gauntlet tossed across a divide. “Yes,” I said. I did not hedge. “Without him.” “That tale,” she said, cutting. “The story you brought home from that school. From that asylum. It doesn’t tally with the son we raised.” Their son. Not your brother. Not the defector. Not the man who had tried to weaponize me.

After Shanon was imprisoned, I officially gained custody of Ginny. One day, I took her with me while delivering food. I asked gently, "Ginny, are you happy?" She smiled brightly. "As long as I have Daddy, I'm happy." In that moment, I felt that everything I endured was worth it.

The thinly veiled satisfaction in some of their voices, like they had been waiting for her family to fall and now they finally had front-row seats to watch it happen. A man in a gray suit approached her, his smile too wide. "Christiana, I just wanted to say how sorry I am. Your father was a smart man. Very smart." He paused, letting the words settle. "Perhaps too smart for his own good." She stared at him until his smile faltered. "Excuse me," she said, and walked away.

my father never really paid attention to me for a reason I didn't know why until he was in his death bed, he handed me his diary at the point and placing my hand on that diary I braised myself for the amount of terrors about to face my dad was a sober and terrific man so he could write anything in his diary including is dark designs I stood as the young man that I was and took a hold of that diary and the day I had finally at the courage to open it up was the day I started to see things differently that was how I know how cruel is owned father was and how is father at ordered him to take his own grandfather's life he had regrets towards the very end of his life he was sober and very much mor