Father In Law Stories Novels & Stories

I broke down in their arms, the weight of everything crashing down on me all at once. They said nothing at first, just held me, their hands gentle as they rubbed my back. My mother whispered in a soft voice, “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” I could barely speak through my sobs, but when I could, I said, “I’m divorced. Quinn... he’s back with his ex now. He doesn’t want me anymore.” My father’s face darkened. “That bastard.” My mother’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “We’ll take care of it, Vanessa. Don’t worry. We’ll make him pay for this.”

His eyes were darker than I remembered, sharp with intelligence, not cruelty. He looked at me openly now. “Good morning,” he said. His voice was calm. Polite. Detached. I inclined my head. “Good morning.” A pause. “You are… my father’s wife,” he said, not as a question. “Yes.” Another pause. Longer. Something shifted in his expression,not desire, not yet, but uncertainty. As if reality had not aligned with expectation. “I did not realize he married so… recently.” Recently. As if time measured legitimacy.

It instantly clicked in my head that it was my father-in-law who had nearly hit me with his car while I was running away from Thayer. I sat up straight immediately. “Father,” I greeted. “How are you doing now? I’m sorry I almost hit you last night,” he explained, his voice laced with concern. “I’m fine. It’s not your fault,” I sniffed, but I knew I was not fine, and he must have sensed I was lying because he scoffed at my response. “You know you don’t have to lie to me like that, Maeve…” “I’m truly fine, Father…” “Xander,” he cut in sharply. “Call me Xander,” he corrected, and I inhaled sharply.

"Why? After ruining my fucking suit, you think I should let you go?" "Wow, for someone who apparently doesn't curse, you sure do use foul language. I wonder why this behavior is only reserved only for me." "I wonder why your snarky attitude is reserved only for me. I don't see this attitude coming out in front of anyone else, especially your father." "There's a difference between my father and father in law, who's the biggest asshole I've ever met." "Oh, and what's that?" "He's my blood. He raised me, you didn't."

The son who betrayed him and cost him the only woman he has ever loved. “Hello father” He said with an evil smirk that mirrored his father’s own cruelty.

I hid my anger and asked calmly, "Have you not been able to satisfy your wife so far that you think she would come running to her father-in-law for getting fucked?" Aaron's face turned red, a mix of anger and humiliation as he spoke with contempt, "Don’t you feel any shame after seducing your son's wife?" "Aaron, you are crossing the line this time. You can't gather us in the middle of the night to spout such nonsense, he is your father, and you have to respect him no matter what," father scolded Aaron. That's what you have to tolerate for accepting a servant's son as your grandson.

“Are you trying to collapse again?” I nearly jumped, and tripped over a small stone. The man standing a few feet away was tall and broad shoulders and wearing shorts and nothing else. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and the way he looked at me made me look away. It was my step father-in-law, Damian Blackwell. “I… I—” I stammered and straightened my back, trying to appear stronger than I felt. “I don’t need a babysitter.” “You’re out here in the cold,” he said, taking a few steps closer. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Straight to the point, right? Like father, like son.” Mathias meets the old man’s eyes with total indifference. Clearing his throat, Mr. Robinson continues. “It’s been a while since your father disinherited you.” Mathias keeps his cool but wonders where the hell this is coming from after all those years. His father, Alexander Raptis, had threatened to reject Mathias when he learnt that his only son wanted to marry a peasant girl from a lower class. Mathias knew that his father hadn’t made that decision himself.

I can’t believe I lost my virginity to the most feared and talked about man in America. And now, he sits at the head of this cursed table as my father-in-law. He hasn’t said much. Not directly to me. He lets the man he came with do all the talking, his words sharp and biting. He asks me about my education, my etiquette on how I view the mafia, and my ability to manage a household. I barely hear him, my thoughts still are on the man still watching me. And my grip on reality begins to slip away. My shoulders ache from the tension. I hold the fork with white-knuckled control like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. I stare at my plate, pretending to be absorbed, though the food sits untouc

They were just warm bodies that wanted me, and I wanted to have a good time with younger women. What I did wasn't something a father should have done, but I did warm him when it happened for the first time. It was his first year of college, and I told him that the girl he was seeing made a move on me. However, instead of talking to her, he got mad at me. He blamed me for manipulating her because she could've never done anything with an old man otherwise.