Novel & Cerita Father In Law

“You think this is your prison, Kat? At least you might get out one day. I’ve been living in a prison since I was born. My father and Cesare watch every move I make. I’m not allowed to go out and have fun because I’m Don Moravia’s son. Not allowed to date. Because I'm going to be the next don,They even packed me off to some school in Italy. I hated every second. I begged them to let me come home to college here, but they refused. So, why does my father get to do whatever the hell he wants just because he’s the Don?” he says Yes, he’s an entitled, spoiled boy with a bad attitude and daddy issues, but it seems like he has his own crosses to bear. I still don’t trust him for a single second tho

“I hate both of you.” “You should hate yourself,” Raina muttered. “Because girl. That man? That is Lucian Blackthorne’s father. That’s the head of the Blackthorne pack. That’s the Alpha before Lucian. That man has killed people. He runs bloodline tribunals. He does not blink during executions. That man is scary-hot, and you just gave him a reason to ruin your life.” “I didn’t mean to say it like that,” I whispered. “It just slipped.”

Khira's POV Daughter-in-law… The word hung in the air. It sounded so wrong. How was this man with the way he looked, my father in law. Alex had told me that his father ended up in jail and died of a heart attack. It should have made me sick, what this man was saying. It should have made me scream. But as I stared into Adrien's abyss-like eyes, all I felt was a strange, vibrating numbness. "You're lying" I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction.

I lifted my glass, taking a small sip of water, my expression unreadable. "It has crossed my mind. After all, you are his father. You are supposed to protect him, support him... not take the things he discards." He laughed, a low, rough sound. "Protect him? Support him? Adrian is a disappointment. A weak, sentimental boy who thinks love is the most important thing in the world. He thinks money grows on trees, that power is given, not taken. He loves that girl, Elara... and she loves his name and his money. She doesn't love him. Just like you didn't love him either."

'What kind of father is this? "Responsibility? father , I believe you have gone muddle headed because of old age .This son has been spending his time in army barracks since I was fifteen ! what responsibility ? Does father means to say thay if any girl looks at this son and starts liking me then I have to marry her and bring her to my courtyard ! How many women earns for this son does father not know ? if This son had to bring every girl who laid their eyes upon this son , then this son had to marry atleast half of the women from our nation ! What responsibility ,? Did that young lady expressed her love for me in front of me ? or the Family of that young lady sent word about her feelings for

He said, intently keeping his stare. I held my son tightly as I gave him a nod of respect. "Good day, sir. I'm Sophie Cordero. Can I address you as a father? You're obviously twice my age. You're old enough to be my father... Father-in-law." I said with a smile.

“Crawl the fuck to me. Right here. And take this huge cock into your mouth like a fucking good girl.” I hitched a breath so sharp it felt like swallowing glass. There he was, my father-in-law, a man I had only ever seen in tailored suits and stony expressions, now standing before me as a primal god. His command hung in the air, a challenge and a promise, while his hand was wrapped around the source of my every secret obsession. His thick, large, veiny cock.

His father’s voice broke through the phone with so much authority, choking Christian. He coughed hard to clear his throat of the drink and placed the glass on the table. “No, Dad.” “You think you can embarrass yourself and the company and I will not hear of it?” his father asked, a strong sense of disappointment laced in every word he spoke. Christian’s father was a very hard man who ruled with iron fists, but he had lived through his youth and was now retired. His body may be weak, but he was not in any way weak as a person.

And just like that—her stomach dropped. Victor. The last man she ever wanted to see. Her husband’s father. The ghost that haunted their family without saying much. Always watching. Always pulling strings. His black coat was spotless. His shoes shined. His silver rings caught the light like they had something to say. But his eyes—that’s what stopped her. Cold. Flat. Cruel. “You’ve been busy,” he said, voice low but clear. She stared, throat tight. “How did you find me?”

her voice was a tiny, terrified squeak. “You have disrespected my woman for the last time,” he said, his tone so cold it made the hospital room feel like a freezer. “You are a spoiled, vicious stain on this family. And I am done cleaning you up.” “No! Father, please!” her begging started, frantic and pathetic. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! It was a mistake! Please, don’t—”