I Love Your Dad Novels & Stories

My mother was my father’s sugar baby. Every year, he would hold her in his arms and promise, “Wait for me. Next year, I’ll marry you.” He said it for five years. In the end, he married a woman from his own social circle instead. My mother never got the wedding she dreamed of. After that, she became unstable and cruel. She used me as a way to get my father’s attention. “Go. Call your father and tell him you’re sick. Tell him to come see you.” But my father only frowned and yelled at me. “You’re already learning to lie from your mother at such a young age? Always haunting me like this. Disgusting.” They blamed all the anger they had for each other on me. Later, my father’s wife gave birth to a son. He became the perfect husband and father in everyone’s eyes. My mother only grew worse. She hit me harder and harder, all just to make my father come look at her once. When I was seven, I fell down the stairs and broke my leg. I begged my mother to take me to the hospital. She slapped me hard across the face. “What are you pretending for? You fall once and suddenly your leg is broken? You’re just like your irresponsible father. You were born to make me suffer.” My father rushed over, but he only shoved my mother to the floor in irritation. “If you use this little bastard to fake being sick and trick me again, don’t expect another cent from me.” Their screams and sobs tangled together. I lay on the cold floor, slowly losing consciousness. This time, could they finally stop fighting?

I never imagined my life would unravel the moment I stepped back into Bella’s world. Nine years after we swore to be best friends forever, I returned to the city for university—broke, grieving my father’s unsolved murder, and desperate for connection. Reuniting with Bella felt like fate giving me a second chance. But everything changed the instant I literally ran into her father, Marcus Alaric. Fresh from the shower, he caught me in his arms, his strong hands steadying me with a touch that lingered too long. He was nothing like the man I remembered from my childhood. Tall, commanding, and impossibly magnetic, Marcus awakened something in me I couldn’t ignore. No matter how hard I tried to focus on my studies or my boyfriend, my thoughts kept drifting back to him—his deep voice, his quiet intensity, the way his presence filled every room. I knew it was wrong. He was Bella’s father, twice my age, and completely forbidden. I avoided him, buried my feelings, and reminded myself daily of the lines I couldn’t cross. Yet every accidental brush, every late-night conversation, and every heated glance made my resolve crumble. I couldn’t resist him.

Every she-wolf in Crescent Ridge knew the Nightwood name. Lola did not. She grew up in the pack orphanage with no bloodline sponsor, no rich family background, no seat among the pack’s royalties. Some wolves were born into power. Others had to fight for every inch. Lola fought. She worked day and night, building something out of nothing until the Moon Goddess finally blessed her with a fated mate—Alpha Tristain Herdez. He was Powerful, respected, desired by every she-wolf. Five years after their wedding, their house was still empty. The pack physician revealed the truth: Tristain could never father a child. Lola kept his secret and buried herself in work, building a company that all of Texas admired. Then she collapsed during a press conference. Stage four cancer. Less than a year to live. While she prepared to leave a legacy behind, Tristain returned home one day with a newborn, claiming the baby was abandoned at the pack gate. But the child had Tristain’s face and her best friend’s eyes. And Lola was running out of time to uncover the truth.

All the relatives knew I had a "backward cousin." For my birthday, she gave me a grocery-store pound cake. When I ran a marathon, she presented me with a pair of worn-out canvas sneakers. At my graduate school acceptance party, she even sent a funeral wreath of white lilies with a sash that read "In Sympathy," wishing me an early departure to the afterlife. In my previous life, I slapped her so hard she tumbled down the porch steps. My brother took her side and plotted revenge, falsely reporting to the university that I had cheated on my SATs. My admission was revoked. "You're so modern. You know how things work," he sneered. "Plenty of people take a gap year. Just apply again." My father also defended her, cutting off all my financial support. "You've had so much schooling. You're so educated," he said coldly. "Support yourself." Alone in a city eighteen hundred miles from home, I fought to survive. I called my brother and my father again and again—only to be blocked. I delivered food while renting a room and studying to reapply. At my lowest, my hands were raw and cracked from frostbite, scrambling for delivery shifts at four in the morning just to earn a small bonus. Worn down by the cold and exhaustion, I suffered cardiac arrest at twenty-three and collapsed in a snowdrift in that unfamiliar city. No one ever came to claim me. This time, I chose to let it go and accepted the wreath with a gracious smile. To fully integrate myself into this family. After all, what is a moment of pride compared to a lifetime's inheritance?

On the day I was trying out my wedding gown, a stranger dashed into the VIP room and pushed me hard onto the ground. "I'm the real Mrs. John Curtis. Someone like you, with no money or a strong family behind you, should serve me instead." She looked down on me before kicking my pregnant belly with her sharp heels. The pain blurred my vision and made me break out in a cold sweat. Jolene Nostra crouched next to me and slapped me with the back of her hand. "You were only a jilted lover without wealth or influence, trying to wed into a rich family by getting pregnant." As blood flowed heavily from between my legs, a realization hit me. My fiancé, the person I'd been with for four years, was seeing another woman. "What's this? How dare you give me that look? I could kill you, and nothing would happen to me because I'm Mrs. John Curtis!" As she lunged towards me, I pulled out my phone with trembling hands to call my brother. "Come get me, Anthony. And tell our guys I want the Curtis family gone from South City."

My cousin, Kaylee Langford, pushes me down the ski slope when there's an avalanche. My boyfriend, Atlas Ferguson, lifts her into his arms and leaves. He seems to have forgotten that I'm buried underneath the snow mountain. He leaves me stranded at the valley for seven days. He's furious when he finds me. "You should be glad nothing went wrong with Kaylee's arms. Otherwise, the only way you could atone would be to die on this mountain! Our wedding is canceled—we'll have it once you realize what you did wrong." He thinks I'll cry or kick up a fuss, but I merely nod and say, "Okay." He doesn't know that I've made a deal with the Moon Goddess. In six days, I'll be giving up the things that mean most to me—my love for Atlas and my memories of him. Once that happens, I'll forget everything about him and start afresh somewhere new. What does a wedding matter when the Ember Sloane who loved him is now dead?

Atlas burnam, the golden boy of the town; Smart, handsome and incredibly athletic…everybody adored him. So what happens when Skylar Gilliard, the one girl in the entire town who never really got the appeal of fawning over the golden boy, finds herself as his caretaker because of a stupid mistake? Well things were bound to get messy that was obvious…but boy did Skylar never imagine that Atlas Burnam would completely turn her world upside down and forever change the way she saw the world.

After taking her stepsister’s place, Yvonne Miller is married into a wealthy family. To take back her family business, she plots each step she takes carefully. Everyone knows Stephen Anderson is a cruel and ruthless person. Yet, his ugly and uncultured wife has him wrapped around her little finger. Stephen doesn’t mind that his wife’s an ugly duckling. On the contrary, he dotes on her excessively. When he hears gossip about his wife being ugly, with cosmetic surgeons offering her discounts, he whirls into a rage. “These blind dogs! My wife’s the most beautiful woman alive!” he insists.With that, a rumor spreads in Northerna City that Yvonne is Stephen’s retribution for his past misdeeds… Until one day, Yvonne returns from abroad drop-dead gorgeous, sending shockwaves all across the city. However, she doesn’t show up in Stephen’s life again. “What do you take me for, coming and going as you please?” he demands. Stepping aside to present the young kid behind her, Yvonne says in chagrin, “My child’s father?”

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

On the day of my twenty-first birthday, I posted online: [I want a lollipop.] My childhood rival, who was overseas, dropped everything there and flew back. He showered and showed up at my doorstep. I vowed to savor lollipops more carefully from then on—they were simply too sweet. From that moment, even after I was exposed as a fake heiress, everyone in high society knew: Jonathan Chase wanted to marry me. When the Sterling family carried out their harsh punishment, the hundred lashes meant for me were almost entirely taken by him—ninety-nine of them, borne by his own body. When they locked me in the basement, with darkness closing in from all sides, his shouts each day became my only light. "Chloe, don't be afraid. I'll get you out," he promised. And he did. He really saved me. He also made me witness, with my own eyes, his magnificent wedding to the true heiress. The man who once couldn't bear to make me wait had, "for my sake", told me to wait three times. The first time was on his wedding day. Pain was etched into every line of his face. "Chloe, if I don't marry Eleanor, they'll never let you go. Wait for me for three years. Three years from now, I'll marry you." The second time was three years later. He looked at Eleanor's rounded belly, hesitation written all over his face. "Chloe… she's carrying my child. You'll have to wait a little longer." The third time was just yesterday. I was just a step away from his kid. He pushed me violently to the floor, his face tight with warning. "Chloe, can't you just wait? Why do you have to take it out on a kid?" Sunlight fell across the face that once loved me, now stripped of all its former warmth. "If that's how it is… then maybe it's time for me to leave too." I said inwardly.