My Family Sold Me Novels & Stories

“Your life has always belonged to someone else.” She stood shakily. “You don’t get to rewrite my past.” Lawson opened the folder, spreading documents across the table. “Your father sold you twice.” Her breath caught. “That’s a lie.” “He took money from my mother years before the marriage,” Lawson said. “Debt relief. Protection.” Her head shook violently. “No.” “And when Maxwell entered the picture,” Lawson continued, “Margaret bought him out.” Amelia felt the room tilt. “No,” she whispered again.

There are only ten minutes left before the college application portal closes. I'm about to go to bed when my phone suddenly rings. The number is strange and untraceable. I answer. "Hello?" A hoarse male voice comes through the phone. "Adrian, your parents changed your college application!" I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. "Who are you?" I ask, my voice trembling. "I'm you, ten years from now." There is a crushing sense of despair in his voice. I don't believe him. "That's impossible!" He lets out a sigh. "Your brother bombed his exams, didn't he? Your parents changed your application to the same community college he applied to, all because they wanted to make him feel better. If y

The year my sister turned fifteen, my father, Grant Davis, became obsessed with holding auctions at home. Everything in the house, from a plate of meat to a turn with the washing machine, from school lunch money to after-school activity fees, had to be won by bidding with family credits. I worked odd jobs until I dropped, sleeping only three hours a night, and finally saved up a thick stack of family credits, the paper soft and warped from my sweat. All Melody had to do was sit on the couch and shed a few tears, and my father would stuff fistfuls of credits into her arms. "Girls deserve to be spoiled. Can't have Melody feeling left out." That day, the item up for auction was an old necklace

I didn’t know if I should sell the Family or not. Despite the fact that they didn’t give me a cut of my plan`s sweat, I was angry with them. On the other hand, my friend wanted his money badly, and the more the days that passed, the more he became impatient. So one day as we were chilling at the warehouse, I tried to give him tips on how to make quick money, but I said it as a joke.

And the faster I could do what I'd told Veronica I'd do—let go of the past. And once I'd signed, I couldn't change my mind. Selling the house was my last resort. I hated to do it. Stephen hated me having to do it. But there was no other way. Moriarty wasn't fucking around. I couldn't take a chance he'd hurt my family over this. It wasn't worth it.

Those words stopped me right in my tracks, and I forgot all about my drink. "Oh my God! I heard her dad traded her to the Jenkins family, and when the Jenkins went broke, they sold her off to the Morettis. Desperate move, but I guess it makes sense since their company was basically falling apart," the speaker added, sounding kind of sorry about it. I clenched my jaw, purposely avoiding eye contact. I wasn’t about to let them see that they’d gotten under my skin. They clearly wanted to throw my father’s dirty laundry in my face, but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

"Mom… What? You've sold it already?! Who could have bought it from you?!" Gina scratched her head awkwardly, feeling her conscience gnawing because of her son's overreaction. "I was a little worried after we couldn't reach you on the phone, so I sold it to Frank." "Frank?! You sold it to Frank?!" Peter could blow up right then. Still, he clung on to his last hopes and forced a smile while asking calmly, "How much did you sell it to him?"

Even though it was smaller, this house held memories. We all loved it the most. Every holiday, every school break, every excuse to escape the city, our parents brought us here. We laughed here. Fought here. Ate together here. Slept piled up in the living room on movie nights. And after our parents and brother died, my aunt sold it without hesitation. Back then, I told myself it didn’t matter, but it did. It belonged to my family, and they had no right to give it away. When Sebastian told me one night that he missed this place, I searched for it. I didn’t believe it would still be available. But somehow, it was. I didn’t even get the chance to ask Hades, the moment he found out what I was loo

Cut ties. And my reward? Dad cut me off. Said if I wouldn’t sell my soul for the family name, I wouldn’t see another cent of it either. I lived in a cramped, roach-infested shoebox on the edge of Brooklyn, scraping by on student loans and part-time work. It was a shit life—but it was mine. And then Dad came knocking again. Just a dinner, he said. I thought it was dinner with the family. Except they never showed up. A dinner turned into silence. Days passed. Then weeks.

Not yet, I tried to hold the tears. But where was i even going. There was no place for me to go. The thought of my parent flickered through my mind. I could go to them. They were my family after all and I was their first child. Maybe they would take me in, offer me comfort, a place to figure what to do next. But then, the bitter truth crashed over me like a wave. They were the one who sold me if to Nicholas family. Not for love, not for happiness. For business.