Not My Rodrick Novels & Stories

Just before the new school term started, my daughter's parent group chat, which had been quiet for ages, suddenly announced that the first parent-teacher meeting of the semester would be held that night. The rule was: both parents had to attend. A long string of "Got it" followed. I was about to reply when I noticed someone had beaten me to it. A guy with a family photo as his profile picture sent a voice message. "I'm Emma Sullivan's dad. We'll be there!" I froze. I clicked into the member list and checked repeatedly. My daughter's name was Emma Sullivan. He said he was Emma's dad. Then who the hell was I? I immediately called my wife. Before I could say a word, I heard her cheerful v

I shot back. He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "Do you even know what Rodrigo is really like?" he asked, his voice lower now, like he was trying to tread carefully. I scoffed, crossing my arms. "He’s in the mafia, just like you." My words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. "He traffics hard drugs, but does it really matter?" I took a step closer, my heart racing. "If that’s what you want to tell me, then sorry to disappoint you. I’m already aware, and guess what? I don’t give a fuck."

I chuckled, picturing his smiling face, asleep in our bed. "Leo whom?" Rodrick asked. "Carter." I smile. The table fell silent once again, and I was starting to think they were not pleased with my choice, but nonetheless, he was my choice, and not even my closest friends could sway my love for Leo, and the desire of marrying him in four months' time. "Jesus, Donny." Rodrick laughed. "I actually know who he is." Of course, he did, I'd be surprised if he didn't, I knew Rodrick was far from a straight arrow, he's always been famously outspoken about his tastes in women, and men.

Like she'd seen a ghost. Enzo guided me to the main table. He lifted his champagne, gave it a lazy swirl, then looked out at the room. He didn't raise his voice. Didn't need to. "Let me introduce my fiancée—Jessica." Silence slammed the room. Zoya couldn't hold back. "Jessica?" Sharp. Mean. "Which Jessica? Don't tell me it's THAT Jessica Rossi—the one who sold out her family and murdered her own brother seven years ago before rotting in prison."

On the last day before college entrance exams, Tristan Kelley, the most popular guy in class, let out an ear-splitting shout. "Everyone, skip the exam! Sage will pay out 50 million dollars!" He held up his phone, showing an insurance agreement he had signed with Sage, the AI chatbot, for everyone to see. All we had to do was miss the exam and we would receive 50 million dollars in compensation. "We're all bound for the best universities. In the worst case, we can retake the exam next year. "This is 50 million dollars. Do you think you'll ever see that kind of money in your life?" In my previous life, I called the police right away. I explained until I was blue in the face that Sage was j

Right before the syndicate's power handover, I flew back to New York after a year of studying jewelry design in Europe. But the night before the ceremony, my secret boyfriend of three years—the Rossi family's new second-in-command—sent me a text: [Sorry, Chloe. I lost a card game, and you were my chip. You're his problem now.] Before I could even breathe, I got tagged in the family's encrypted dark-web channel. The top thread was blowing up: [The Mafia Boss Just Won a Fat Pig for a Girlfriend!] Pinned right at the top was an old photo of me from a few years ago. Back when I was 180 pounds. The comment section was ruthless: [If the Boss knew what he actually won, he'd regret making that bet.]

"It's late, and there's no need to cause any trouble. We can handle this ourselves since this is all just a family matter." Then he turned back to me, his tone sounding as though he was almost pleading. "Can't you just show me a little respect? Make the officers leave, and we'll sort this out at home." He thought I would give in like all those other times, sacrificing everything for his laughable pride and respect. He thought I still cared about our so-called sibling bond. But what he didn't realize was that whatever affection I had had left was long gone after I had been locked in that filthy storage room and beaten within an inch of my life.

It happened on the same road where we first met because of an accident. The difference was that back then, it was due to drunk driving, and this time, she was determined to die. When Lionel found me, I was playing a puzzle with Jerry. His temples were streaked with white hair, and he looked ten years older. He handed me Rhea's suicide note, asking if it was his fault. I smiled. I didn't even look at the note and tore it into pieces, tossing it into the trash. Behind me, Myra walked over with a cup of coffee.

I was demanding that my parents return all the money they had taken from me over the years, but I forgot one thing: people pushed to the edge of desperation are capable of anything. On the day I returned home from the airport, a familiar figure flashed past the entrance of my residential area. I turned around but couldn’t make out anything. Just as I relaxed and told myself I was imagining things, someone put a hood over my head and knocked me unconscious. Then, everything went black. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, with Will sitting across from me. He had stubble covering his face, and his eyes were hollow. I could tell he hadn’t slept for days.

He asked almost like he was waiting for Ryland to fail. "Well, Rodrigo tore the folder and it got bloody," he said with a sly grin painting his face as he recalled the moments. Caleb sighed, muttering something under his breath before standing up. "So the whole purpose of you going to Kindred was not met," "It wasn't a total failure, Rodrigo broke in front of his employees and his beloved wife," Ryland grinned, but ended with a bitter tone. "It should be all over the news by evening," Ryland continued in a proud voice, picking up his phone.