Father Day Stories Novels & Stories

Eli shakes his head violently. “No. I’m not a piece on your chessboard. I’m not something you hide away when things get dangerous.” Damian storms a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him like heat. “Eli, you don’t understand—my father doesn’t negotiate. He hunts. He destroys. He breaks people to see what shape they take when he’s done.” “So let me stand with you,” Eli says fiercely. Damian grabs Eli by the waist, pulling him close again.

For the walls to come shooting back up with a vengeance. Instead, Clarkson spoke, his voice tiny, stripped of all its corporate teflon. When my father drank, he began, not speaking to Jonah, but to the glinting skyline, "he did not become cruel. He became. sentimental. He'd put his arm around me and tell the same story. About how he began his first business from the ground up. How he outsmarted everyone. How it was all for us. For the family.".

He asked, his voice warm and inviting. I took a sip of my juice, collecting my thoughts before launching into the story of my day. My mother leaned in, her eyes sparkling with interest, as I began to recount my day. I only told them about meeting James and particularly left out the part about Fidelia and her problems. "Did you say his last name was Wardolf?" My father asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. I nodded, taking another bite of my porridge. "His father is the head of the soldiers, a very fine gentleman," he stated, a hint of respect in his voice. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this new piece of information.

All the memories that I had locked away, the happy moments, and the worst moment came rushing back. ‘ Tell me a story, Dad. ’ ‘ I can not sleep without your stories. ’ ‘ I love you, Dad. ’ ‘ You are the best father in the world. ’ ‘ Do you love me? ’ ‘ Do you miss me when you are gone for so long? ’ ‘ When can I meet my brother? ’ ‘ Mom will cry again. If you leave, she will cry again. Please don’t leave Dad. ’ ‘ When will you come back this time, Dad? I miss you when you are not around. ’

Then, when I was maybe seven or eight years old, my father returned from the longest absence in my memory. I remember getting a glimpse of him, as he walked to his library flanked by his guards. He was carrying something concealed by a battered leather wrap. My mother told me he had been hunting for answers. At the time, I had no idea what she was talking about. As I grew older, he shared his interests with me. The ancient Greeks, the myths and legends, his theories of how our kind came to be. I found it all so exciting, it was hard not to. The way he told the stories, with such passion and enthusiasm. I never really believed they happened, I took them for just that, stories.

… The next day, I stayed home. I sat in the living room, all focused on sewing clothes for my son. Logan was a regimental commander, often admonishing Artie and me to be frugal and not to live beyond our means. Although Artie was too young to understand, he knew his father was a great hero who protected our country, so he had never made any demands of Logan or me.

I was trying to impress her. “She has outgrown us now.” Mom said and I shook my head and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You know that’s not true. I’ve been swamped with work…are these for me?” “Yep.” My dad handed me the flowers with one hand and took my duffel bag with his other hand. “Did I tell you Hank is here?” We walked over to their Toyota Camry. “Yes mom, you mentioned.” Hank was her friend’s son, I can’t remember which one of her friends. She joined this book club where they spent half of their time drinking wine and the other half to matchmake their single kids. It was either that or gossiping about their married kids.

"Just give me a name, Robert." "Evander Sinclair," Robert stated clearly. The name echoed in the quiet room. I recognized it immediately. Evander Sinclair was a myth in the business world—a brutal, reclusive billionaire who had turned his family's shipping and tech empire into a global superpower before he even turned thirty. My father had spoken of him with immense respect, almost fear.

Her father got furious with the silence from her daughter and so shouted at her to reply to his questions before he would do something drastic to her. Ellen began talking with tears flowing from her cheeks. Dad I've never known any man or had a boyfriend until the annual party my company threw last two months. Dad that's the truth I'm telling you. The father then asked why then this baby in your womb? Do you think I'm a child to believe this cow and bull story you are telling me from where you are sitting?!!!.

Dating My Ex-Boyfriend’s Daddy . Chapter 76: at a risk of falling . “You did what?” Addison asks, bursting into laughter so violently she almost topples over onto the brick path underfoot. She grabs at Javan’s arm to steady herself. “You’re kidding me.” “Nope,” Javan says, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “And it worked, too. I never heard them again.” He’s just told Addison another Skye story—there seem to be an endless number of them. Apparently when Skye first started dating Dallas, they were getting it on so loudly that it was keeping Javan awake at night.