My Father Is The Hero Novels & Stories

I chuckled, "Well, I must say you already earn my trust for the second time. Saving my father and ensuring he's safe is enough for me to trust you again." "If it wasn't for you, my father is already dead by now and I was crying to his casket, and blaming myself. You are my hero, Calvin..." I looked directly into his eyes, "You filled my heart with love and care, which my father failed to give. He never give me those, but somehow I'm happy because he's the best father in the world..." "Thank you for saving him..." He held my hand and kiss it, "I'll do everything for you..."

Jace Nothing is black and white. There's always the grey in the middle where the truth actually lives, and I think the grey in the middle of my father was this: he made himself the victim so I'd grow up seeing a victim, and he made himself the hero so I'd grow up seeing a hero, a man building his family's wealth back from scratch with his bare hands against a thief. And it worked on me. I did see the hero. He was a hero. He was just a hero who could not, for the rest of his life, stop competing with a king.

But I had seen that flash of want before he had locked it away. “Bella!” My father’s voice boomed across the terrace, shattering the moment. My father, Victor Martinez was a silver-haired force of nature, with a laugh that could fill a room. He swept me into a bear hug that lifted me off my feet. “There’s my girl! Two years too long, mija. Don’t ever leave me that long again.” “Happy birthday, Dad.” I hugged him back, breathing in his familiar cologne,it took me back decades. I felt like a little girl running into his arms for a hug after I had seen a spider.

The voice was loud, and the noise in the background didn’t help. “Wait, Ryder?” “Don’t play with me, Odessa.” “Wait, I can explain, please—” “Fuck that! He’s in the wind. He’s talking crazy about the Alpha being after him and trying to take everything from him.” “That’s not the entire truth. I wanted to tell you. Your father is a traitor.” “My father is a hero. He’s a great businessman and a great father.” Despite the rage in his tone, there was a hint of uncertainty.

My father closed the file and put it back to the cabinet where it had been placed before. " My job as a guardian is to ensure that evil people like Miranda never get to hurt anyone ever again. When we are done rescuing the victims, we give them counselling and take them back to their families. I’m no magic man, I only use advanced technology and combat to stop crime “My father explained. My father was not as evil as I had thought, he was a hero. I lengthened my stay, I too wanted to become a guardian, perhaps it was my purpose.

He's my hero, Mom. She nods, dabbing at my tears with her fingers. "Well, my mate is my hero too." She says and we both laugh. "Your father stood behind me like a rock so I can be able to use my powers without having to watch my back, you know." I nod proudly "That's my father! I'm the luckiest girl on earth." "Aren't we both lucky to be blessed with good men?" "Yes, we are, mom. Yes, we are."

He had been the one to stand for someone else. Does that make me a hero? Ginika shook his head with disgust. He hated that word with a passion. Everything about the word made him sick. If his father had not tried to play a hero in trying to save his mother, perhaps he would still be alive. But his father had been brave and had confronted the taskmaster. If the brave always dies and the cowards always tell their tale, what then is the essence of being brave?

When I was a kid, people used to tell me to think of a hero. We view them as individuals who can save the world. Most people would think of heroes like Batman and Superman. But what about the heroes who hide among us—the men and women in the line of duty? People who are never afraid of what could happen to them. We all have someone we could call upon who would save us from the harm that might come our way. In many ways my Father was my hero in so many ways . Sometimes when I was alone I used to wonder if he had a hero.

My father said sternly to Al. "It wouldn't have been as fun as this..." Al winked, and my dad gave him a soft nod, understanding that we wanted to surprise them. "Come over here..." My father said, and I moved away from my mother's soft embrace to the tight hug my father gave me. "I missed you..." He whispered, and I buried my face in his chest. This embrace was familiar, protective, and secure. My father was always my safety net, and I adore him. He is the best father a girl could have. For many, a father is their hero while they are little girls; for me, my father was my hero always and forever.

“You used her, you turned an innocent little girl into a weapon for your vile acts.” “Please stop this,” I call out. Father's disappointed stare that he never reserves for me pins me and I shake my head in apology already, not knowing what wrong I've done. “I knew you would do something stupid but I hoped you'd find out a little too late.” he says, “You just had to be the hero my dear, huh? Even after I've told you never to be.” “You tried to kill him,” I swallow. Father has rules against me playing the hero because I could end up in this exact situation, but how the hell was I supposed to just stand there and let them kill the only man who has ever put me first?