No Longer Your Son Novels & Stories

His voice sounded like he has no room for any more arguments with me. "No. I will go home with my son, Mr. Sullivan. Me and my son." I made my voice stern as I looked at him seriously. At this point, he doesn't have a right to freaking demand from me anymore. We're just nothing but exes, and whatever his relationship with Dad was, it ended here too. Dad is already dead. He's already buried six feet under, so technically, the both of us doesn't have any connections anymore. "I won't argue on this with you, Kiera."

“That’s the problem. I don’t want to live in your world anymore.” A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—crossed his face. “No? And what world do you plan to live in? The fantasy one where men like us just walk away?” “I’m not you.” Matteo smirked, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. But you’re still my son. That means something.” I took a step closer. “Not anymore.” His smirk faded. For the first time in my life, I saw a crack in the armor. Just for a second.

Fuck. “For so many years, I've looked for things I could use against you, but like the heartless bastard you were, you never cared for anything, for anyone, I couldn't drag you back to me. But you moved that girl in, you gave me a hand, a present, the best gift ever. It's all your fault for running away, when we could've ruled the world together. You're supposed to be my son, but that's okay. Who says I can't have another?” “What?” Another son?

"I'm sorry, son. I know me being here would be the last thing you'd expect, but I had no choice, son." "Stop calling me your son; I don't consider you my mother anymore. So, I would advise you to stop referring to me as your son. I have no parents—not now, not ever," I uttered, but it seemed like all my words were falling on deaf ears as she still stood there, her lips parting to speak more. What was she hoping to say, an apology? What would that do? Would that change everything that had happened? Would that rectify the past? No, it wouldn't. So why even bother with it?

I still had a lot of things to say, but like I said, there was no point in wasting my time on someone who was my past. “I know, but I’m not here to ask for another chance either. I know it’s not going to happen. You have Mr. Kross now, and you’re in a great place. I don’t wanna ruin your life, son.” “Then what the fuck do you want from me? Sure, hell, we can’t be friends. You and I are over that, way past beyond that stage.” “I know, son.” “Don’t fucking call me that!” I clenched my teeth and forced myself to put myself together, but I was beyond mad that my body shook.

How the fuck did that make sense? “We’re done here,” my father said. “Bury us in paperwork. I don’t care. This could take twenty years, and it wouldn’t⁠—” “You think you’ll be alive in twenty years?” I asked incredulously. “With all this bitterness in your heart? How can you treat me this way? I’m your fucking son. Your only fucking son. If you remove me from ownership, then what? You have no other kids. You’d rather it be given back to the government or charity than let it fall into my hands⁠—”

“You can’t just throw us out. This is our house too.” "Not anymore," Dad replied coldly. "You are no longer my sons. Not after what I walked in on. Not after what you have done. I am cutting you off. No money. No credit cards. No access to anything I own." He looked at Jackson, then at me. "You want to act like animals, you can live like them. You want to treat people like objects and destroy lives for fun? Fine. But you are not doing it under my roof. Get out. And don't ever come back."

he said softly. “It has,” I said, my voice hard. “Seven years is a lot of time, and maybe that’s why you seem to have forgotten that I am no longer your son. You lost every right to call me that after that night.” His eyebrows were pulled together, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling further when his expression turned tight.

“So, to you, I only lived to slave away for you, huh? “Fine. From now on, you’re not my son, and I’m not your father. Don’t call me again.” Without waiting for his response, I hung up the phone and blocked his number.

I replied coldly, "Are you serious? He broke into my house with a gun and threatened my family. I didn't stab him. I don't even understand how someone like you can twist this into my fault. In what way does this look like I killed him?" "How dare you speak to me like that? I'm your father!" I let out a bitter laugh. "We stopped being father and son a long time ago. Did you forget? "From now on, whatever happens to you, life or death, anything… It has nothing to do with me. You only have one son. His name is John Wesley." With that, I turned and walked out without looking back. John's mother screamed curses toward me until my father slapped her across the face.