John B's Dad Novels & Stories

They step aside when they see Damian. No words. No nods. Just immediate obedience. Damian pushes open the door, and Eli feels the shift in temperature before his eyes even adjust. Then he sees him. Marcus Blackthorne. Damian’s father. A man with silver hair pulled back, eyes sharp enough to slice skin, posture as perfect and rigid as a blade. He doesn’t look like he ages—more like he calcifies. He sits at a long table, a crystal glass untouched before him. When he lifts his gaze, Eli feels it physically.

Madison a few minutes ago and asked, "What does your dad do?" Jasper pondered for a moment before replying, "Have you heard of the renowned architect John Benson?" I couldn't help but snort, causing a large droplet of coffee to land on Jasper's less-than-attractive T-shirt. "You mean the John Benson? The mastermind behind Benson Enterprises?" I clarified. Jasper smirked, clearly pleased that I recognized his father's achievements. With a portfolio spanning across the globe, John Benson was undeniably wealthy. "Yes, that's him," Jasper confirmed.

"What if there were other Witches on our side? Other Witches like John." I froze. "What other Witches?" He glanced down. "When we got to the arboretum, John met my dad and they recognized each other. Apparently, my dad is a Witch, but he left the Coven like John did. Years ago." Staring at him, I was having trouble thinking. It was too much. John was with his family again, and that meant he was in danger. Then there was Hunter's father, who just so happened to be another Witch?

as the media dubs him, smile only at me. But the media is a bunch of assholes, because they forget that he’s been such a devout single parent ever since he was young. My dad hasn’t aged much. At thirty-seven going on thirtyeight, he still has a strong build that fills out his suit. He’s tall and broad and has an eight-pack. No kidding. He’s the healthiest man I know. But he also has a few age lines that make him the wisest ever—aside from a certain someone.

I say as I enter the room and she raises her eyes to me, closing the magazine. “Yes Bonnie,” she says, and I fiddle with my fingers. She raises one eyebrow while my dad looks at me through his glasses that are resting on the edge of his nose. “I have a date tonight. Can you help me chose an outfit?” I say and she smiles, standing up almost immediately placing the magazine on the coffee table. “Who’s the date with?” My dad asks, and I smile. “His name is Joh. He is the quarterback?” I say and Dad nods. Dad owns the school I go to, so he knows everyone, but he doesn’t really meddle in my life.

Without the leverage Mom's shares had given him, a few of the VCs pulled out one after another. He drank every day. Then he'd break things, then he'd shout at people. He shouted at Fiona, at me, and at Mom, who was already gone. I never talked back. I didn't tell Mr. Bennett either. Mr. Bennett came to see me every two weeks. He brought food. He'd ask if I was doing okay. Every time I'd smile and say, "I'm okay. Dad treats me fine." Mr. Bennett looked at my hands, chapped and split, the dish soap leaving little cuts. He didn't say anything. He just gave my shoulder a squeeze.

She also said Eugene had seen Ian as his biological father since he was a child, and she couldn't let anyone destroy everything they had built. Ian, however, had already tuned her out. He immediately hung up on her. The room fell into a dead silence. After a long while, he looked at me and said hoarsely, "I'll deal with her." I looked up at him calmly. "It doesn't matter who you deal with. It won't bring Mom back." Ian looked as if those words had nailed him to the spot. For what felt like an eternity, he didn't make another sound. … In no time, things spiraled out of control. Ian began to look into the money he thought he had given Mom and me over the years. The results showed that not a si

A great deal of the agreement provided a shared history that matched with things John had previously told his acquaintances. This includes anecdotal stories about his childhood and relationship with his parents. I was to memorize this and include it in our role-play. John never knew his real father, but was raised by a single mom for most of his childhood. They were very close, until he moved to San Francisco and she re-married a short time afterward.

The complexities of balancing personal and professional aspects of their lives lingered in the room, leaving them both with a shared understanding that the path to a more open relationship required careful consideration and patience. *********************** Jayden sat in his office, the dim light casting a contemplative atmosphere around him. His mind was occupied with the weight of a business deal, one that seemed elusive without the support of a powerful ally. The person who held the key to this particular venture was none other than his father, Bryan.

Their mother cried every day for Jerald, and her blood pressure occasionally spiked. "You'll get yourself drunk, Jake, and you have to go to the hospital tomorrow morning, remember?" Jake looked behind him and saw his father standing at the door of his room. Dave Brown was a sixty-year old billionaire, who always looked like he hadn't aged a day over forty. But after the death of Jerald, Dave appeared to have aged twenty years in the last six months. Jerald's death devastated everyone in their family. "Sorry, Dad. I was just lost in thought. I hope I didn't wake you?" Jake said, with his back to his father, wiping away his tears and trying to appear as normal as possible.