Father Of Novels & Stories

I heaved a sigh of relief because he answers my call after a minute or two that I thought he's just ignoring my call. "When are you coming back? Zeke is looking for you." I said and simply looked at Zeke who was still hugging Zuck. I heard daddy sneeze on the other line. "I don't know, maybe this weekend. Tell Zeke that I'll be back soon." Daddy said and I suddenly heard a man calling him, I want to think that it was just his staff but I am not a stupid fool, I know he is with his mistress again. Until now, I still can't believe that my father, a former soldier who was muscular and gym fit, was fucking another man.

" Who is my father? He asked. " Your father is the late Matt Blake, he is the second richest man in this country and he was the son of the ex president of the country , your dad tried so many times to become a president but never got there but he is a powerful man" she says. " I see, I thought he had a son name Adam Blake , he is popular and also a socialite, so why do you keep calling me his only son? Ted asks , His aunt smiles.

I asked in the middle of silence between us. "From my father..." he answered shortly. So...it came from his father. I just know that his father is a doctor. Actually, his father is a popular doctor here in the province. Ronald grew up without a mother. I don't know what happened to his mother, though. His father must be a really good man. He was able to grow his son alone.

I warned. My father, Michael Kurt, was sixty-five, a man with an athletic physique that had been passed down to me. He had a body that spoke of years spent dedicated to maintaining strength and agility. His towering frame and well-maintained muscles made him a tough figure, showcasing the epitome of discipline and hard work spent on everything else except his own son.

I managed, my voice betraying the sorrow that clung to my every word. His gaze held mine, a silent exchange of emotions that transcended words. In those fading eyes, I saw a mixture of love, regret, and a father's silent plea for understanding. I couldn't help but think of the untold stories that lay hidden beneath the lines etched on his face—stories of a life lived, battles won and lost, and the weight of leadership that had shaped him into the man I called Dad.

But deep down, I knew that I was far from fine. “How has life been without a father?” he asked, his voice soft and sympathetic. “Mom really tried,” I said, my voice cracking. “She's a brave woman, and she did her best to be both a mother and a father. I couldn't have asked for a better mother.” My father smiled, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder, and I knew that he understood.

Granger seemed momentarily paralyzed by my father's sheer presence, but Roger—arrogant and reckless—scoffed, "And who the hell are you supposed to be? Walking in here like you own the place?" My father finally spoke, his tone deep and unyielding. "I'm Timothy's and Matthew's father." He paused before turning to the trembling Mr. Winters, adding, "and also, the school's largest investor… as well as the founder of the Mace Foundation, Elias Mace."

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.

“Yes. Our child.” In that moment, I thought of my father. I knew that if he were watching, he would be happy for me. To celebrate, Vincent decided to take me to Italy for a vacation. We were going to his ancestral home in Sicily, the very birthplace of the Moretti family.

Aaron complimented. “Please, you don't have to lie. Daddy never liked that I wasn't interested in the family's business." Maya huffed, her voice tinged with sadness. Aaron wanted to correct the young lady that her father was, in fact, very happy that she chose her own path and wouldn't stop telling anyone who cared to listen that his daughter was smart, but he held his tongue. He hoped that a different day and a better time would surface for that. “Ah, I should go.” The man said, rocking his heels as he stared at his watch.