My Daughter's Secret Book Novels & Stories

I said, and realized my hand had found my belly without permission. The email arrived. Subject: TRIGGER — Medina Letter (scan) Attachment: Letter_Handwritten_Medina.p*f I stared at the file name until the letters blurred and reformed into a shape. I clicked. The handwriting hit me first—my father’s steady pen, the kind that always underlined important words twice. The page was dated and addressed to “My Daughter” in a way he had never written on anything else I owned. I read, and the room went quiet enough to hear the building breathe.

Gina said with her mouth full. Selena looked at her with a confused face. "Have you been reading more of those books?" She was referring to the books on Gina's desk that had weird titles like "How to properly unlock the door without the key." , "Speak like a smarty pants!" , "Who are you? I am the ugly world?" , "Books for people who are cops." And other titles. Selena didn't even want to think of how silly the contents were. Who on earth even wrote those books and where did Gina even get them?

Soviana just shook her head softly, sensing her son was hiding something. Dominic slipped into his room, closing the door quietly. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone again. Renata’s messages still sat on “read,” unanswered. He knew something was terribly wrong. But tonight, he couldn’t tell anyone. Not Fiona. Not his mother. The secret was still too heavy to share. In her own apartment, Renata curled up alone—phone off, crying softly, dreading tomorrow when Cedric or Alex might show up again.

She didn’t know what to do. “I think this should be a good one we can share.” After leaving her to fight off her confusion for some ten minutes, Martin walked to her with one thick old book. That book seemed rare. A book in Fashion Business Management? She looked at it and looked at Martin. He was grinning once again.

“To pay someone a visit.” “Who?” Julian hesitated. Then he said it: “Dominic Crane’s daughter.” Aiden looked stunned. “Crane has a daughter?” Julian nodded. “She’s not on the books. She lives abroad. But she visits under aliases. I caught a glimpse of her once, at Harold’s birthday gala. She’s the only person he keeps off the chessboard.” “Why?” Clarissa asked. “Because she’s his queen,” Julian said. “And if I’m right, she’s the key to unlocking how deep this goes.”

This intruder was inside my house through a four-inch screen, whispering poison into my daughter’s ears. “You are not using this phone, Luna. Come downstairs for breakfast,” I said, turning to walk away. "Daddy said I have to keep it hidden! It’s our secret!" Luna reached for the pink phone, her small hands clawing at my arm. "Auntie Lila says you’re mean! Give it back!" The sound of my daughter—my soul, the person I had sacrificed everything for—defending her snapped something inside me. "Secrets?" I whispered, my voice trembling with a terrifying heat. "In this house?"

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If the name meant something, if it opened old wounds or revealed dangerous secrets, I would see it in his eyes. But what if mentioning that name was something he did not want to hear? What if it was connected to something painful, something he had tried to forget? What if it exposed secrets about my mother that she had died trying to protect? I stopped pacing and pressed my palms against my temples, trying to think clearly through the chaos in my mind. My mother had hidden this book in a secret, magical library that existed outside normal space. She had not just tucked it away in a drawer or hidden it under her mattress. She had placed it in a room that required supernatural intervention to

“She must choose.” “Choose what?” “Which self to become.” Silence stretched between us. Finally, she reached for an old leather-bound text resting beside her. “You will find what you seek in here,” she said, placing it in my hands. The cover was worn, the pages fragile with age. “Ancient myths,” she explained. “Forgotten tales.” I glanced down at the first etched title. The Daughter of the Moon Goddess. My grip tightened on the book. Whatever we were facing…

I say as I count on my fingers as I watch his eyes narrow and I smile triumphantly. “Ha ha, hilarious. Be serious. What are the rules?” I stand and move towards my dad and take out a key and open a secret compartment that is hidden in the desk. Pulling out the rules of Hell. Yes, we do actually have rules in a book. I place the black bound book on the desk in front of him and he looks from me, to dad to the book and back to me. His face has paled. Oh dear goddess, he thought, it would be party central, with all kinds of debauchery. Well no, well maybe, but he won’t know that.