Father Son Novels Novels & Stories

She explained that a little boy had seen Sofia's smartwatch background and insisted the person on it was his mother. While arguing, he tried to grab Sofia's smartwatch, and a fight ensued. Sofia stopped writing and packed her bag as soon as she saw me. Seeing her unharmed and collected, I felt relieved. Suddenly, a figure pounced on me, calling "Mom" repeatedly. Sofia frowned, pulling the boy away. "Ew, you got snot on my mom's dress." I finally recognized the boy as Jamie, my son, though he'd grown taller and lost his front teeth. He pointed at me, his eyes swollen but determined. "She's my mom! Give her back to me!"

"I've got nothing left. The restaurant's gone, and I'm a hundred grand in debt from that hotel lease. You still want to call me 'mom'?" He hesitated for a split second. "Money or no money, you're still my mom! I'll find a job soon, and I'll help pay it all off!" I pushed the door open wider. "Fine. Come in." If he was really sincere, I'd see soon enough. Or maybe he had another angle—only one way to find out. Back at the old house, Henry played the role of devoted son perfectly. He handled every chore, cooked, and left at dawn each day to "look for work." Honestly, he seemed like a different person.

"Oh, I get it. You're the guy Freya's been sneaking around with! And now you're cursing my son to be dead?!" I shoved myself between them, forcing them apart. "This is my brother, Shaun," I snapped. Peter froze, his face flickering with confusion before it hit him. His jaw dropped. "Wait—Shaun Wayne? CEO of Wayne Corp?!" Before I could answer, the housekeeper approached with Yule's urn in her hands. "Ms. Wayne," she said softly, "it's time." I took the urn, my grip firm as I turned to Peter. My voice was steady. "Yule is right here. If you still have any shred of decency as a father, come with us."

"You need to come home. Your father is dying." He should have said no, and ended the call, or thrown the phone across his pathetic studio apartment, and pretended he had never heard those words. Five years ago, Patriarch Michael Thorne had stood in the grand hall of the family estate and declared his eldest son dead to the Holy Order, dead to God, and dead to the bloodline that stretched back twelve generations of exorcists. Gabriel had been seventeen, broken, and desperate for understanding that never came.

A father figure. But by the time I was thirteen, having playdates with his daughter Jane, I wasn’t writing about boys my age in my notebook. I was writing love letters to him. Fantasies about a future where I was older, wiser, and finally worthy of his attention. As I got older, the fantasies didn’t fade. They got sharper. More intimate. More… specific.

Twenty years ago, which means Haven can still get data on Lee's grandfather when he was with his grandson 18 years ago. "Okay, now explain it to me properly," Haven said impatiently. CEO Garrick began to tell about the life of the Lee family, he said that the Lee family has one grandson and three granddaughters. One grandson is son Robert Lee - the eldest son of the Lee family, while three granddaughters are daughters of Jack Lee and Albert Lee. Haven is surprised to hear that the Lee family has three granddaughters. Even though he knew, there were only Alice Lee and Anya Lee who were the grandchildren of the family. They are indeed the daughters of Jack Lee and Albert Lee.

He touched my tummy and then stared at my face. "So bad we lost this little dude." Oh, I get it now. The doctor had already broken the news to him. Indeed Joanna said it, he looked devastated. "We did? Oh my god." I said and placed my hand on my Tommy. Tears welled up In my eyes, I cried like my life depended on it. Joanna smiled from behind but I didn't ignore her and continued with my tears. "Serena did this, she's the reason I lost my son. Honey, she's the reason we lost our heir." I said as tears kept rolling down my cheek.

He gritted out, “they killed my father.” There was no love lost between Bruno Reid— my father’s most trusted accountant— and my little shadow. As much as that bastard had stayed untouched by the violence of our world, he had unleashed every ounce of it behind closed doors, on his wife, and worse, on his son. Especially when he had realized his son wasn’t the perfect son he’d wanted him to be.

She would laugh and cry at the same time, holding a doll made from a pillow, showing it off to anyone she saw. "This is my son, Curtis. He's amazing. He's done so many great projects, and got into a top graduate program. Now, he's successful. He's always listened to me. He's such a gentle, outstanding child. You can be jealous all you want. Only I could give birth to a son like him!" Everyone knew why she was there, so no one paid her any attention. As for my father, he never visited her once after everything happened. He lost his job over the scandal and watched his life fall apart overnight.

“Father! It was that woman! She seduced me! She threatened me! She said she’d destroy our family if I didn’t do what she said! I was forced! You have to save me!” With his treachery exposed, Dante threw all dignity aside, clinging to Vincent’s leg. “Father, she set me up! She used our family business to threaten me! I had no choice! Please, you have to help me…” Vincent shook him off in disgust. “Enough. You are no longer my son.” “Very well,” Don Salvatore nodded. “Then this is settled. Dante Moretti will be dealt with by Vincent. As for you, Miss Volkov, please inform your father that we will remember this.”