Seventh Son Novels & Stories

After all the sons exit the main door with the elders of the southern sect The seventh son began to turn right and left, looking around the sons, then turned to the eighth son and said, "Come, I want to tell you something." The seventh son was the biggest opponent among all his ten sons. All he wanted was to sell the Southern Sect or sell the treasures of the Southern Sect. He wanted to go and travel around the world. What many of the free fighters mentioned, the father did not prevent anyone from going and traveling around the world, but the seventh son believed that if he went there, he would fi

"Not now, not ever." ... I checked myself out of the hospital against medical advice, against all those soft instincts that had kept me chained to his side for seven years. The accident had taken my child and my love for Dante. I returned to the villa where I had lived for seven years. Seven years of memories were etched into every wall, every floor, every sheet that had been stained with our sweat. When I first met Dante, he was not yet a mafia Don. Back then, he had just taken over the Castellano family when it was on its last legs, hunted by countless enemies. Besides ambition, he had nothing.

It was never what I intended. Seven years. Seven years of managing his house and attending his events and holding his pack together from the inside. Seven years of telling myself I was building something real. My wolf made a sound in my chest that I had never heard from her before. Low and broken and then very, very hard. There is something else, Damon said. I looked at him. Luca. He said our son's name carefully. He is not yours. Biologically. The room did not spin. My vision did not blur. I just stood there and felt the last solid thing I had been holding onto go quiet in my hands.

"Dylan Skinner, you're under investigation for intentional harm and illegal organ trafficking. You need to come with us." My mother's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's impossible! My son just had a kidney transplant. He was only discharged today. How could he hurt anyone, let alone traffic organs?" My father shook his head, looking at Dylan lying pale on the bed. "My son has been weak since he was a kid. He barely even socializes. How would he have the chance to do something like that? You've got the wrong person!" Janice's voice trembled as she spoke. "Then can you tell me where Curtis is right now?"

The Cullinan tore down the road. After the hospital bandaged me up, I took him to the children's ward. I stood outside the glass, pointed in at a small boy playing with toys. "That's my son. Damian." Damian looked like me. But he had Lorenzo's softness. Lorenzo's stubbornness. He was my last ray of light in this world. And he was dying. Almost seven years old, and so small it broke my heart. Lorenzo stared at him. The light in his eyes went out inch by inch.

He ran to me, panting heavily, but his eyes were shining with an unusually bright light. It was a light I hadn't seen in his eyes for a very long time. A light mixed with nervousness, anticipation, and even a bit of boyish anxiety. He pulled the velvet box from his sea-sprayed jacket and snapped it open. Then, he dropped to one knee. "Chloe." "It's been seven years. Thank you for walking these seven years with me." "I know I haven't been good enough, that I've put you through a lot. But please believe me, from this day forward—"

Faded black ink was written across the back: ​The child must never be found by the Seventh. ​I looked up at my mother, my heart hammering. "What is the Seventh?" ​She stared at the photograph, all the color draining from her face. "I... I don't know." ​"My father mentioned that once," Adrian spoke up, his voice hushed. ​We both whipped our heads toward him. "What did he say?" I asked. ​"He told me that the Seventh was not a person." He paused, looking between us. "But he wouldn't explain what it actually was."

The day my father was sent to an overseas branch, Rory Lawson brought home his first love, who had just gotten divorced. He entered my room with a poker face and announced, "Sienna is moving in next week. I owe her too much. Don't complain about it." My father had been forced to step down after being accused of workplace harassment. And now, Rory couldn't even wait to make his intentions clear. I looked up and met his gaze, now devoid of any warmth.

Our team really needs you. She pulled out her phone and showed me everything, including her studio and her team. Immortal Ashes (IA), wholly funded by Ivy Calder. I stared at her in shock. "You actually built a team?" That name sounded oddly familiar. Was she not the daughter of the real estate tycoon behind the Calder Group? "Is your father Gordon Calder?" I asked. Ivy scratched her head shyly and smiled. "That would be my dad." "Then why would a perfectly good heiress run around building teams and pretending to be a nurse? What are you trying to do?"

My fiancé was the youngest Don of Sicily’s Rina family. After years together, he always told me, “No one gets to look at my woman. If a man stares at you for even a second too long, I’ll gouge his eyes out.” That was why he almost never brought me along when he handled family business. Until one day, I came across a rising couples influencer on YouTube. In the video, a girl stood on a cliff overlooking the Sicilian coast, holding a selfie stick as the sea breeze billowed through her white dress. Smiling, she turned the camera toward the man beside her, revealing only the sharp line of his jaw and the back of one hand. Then he lifted his left hand, and a ring flashed clearly on his finger. I