Since She's Not Your Daughter Who Exactly Is She Novels & Stories

Aliana fingers around the fork clenched, vein bulging out from her fair calloused hand. “He do right? He really did have another kid other than me?” her words, her voice, all seemed to break Aliana apart, but, with her throat filled with lump, she forced herself to remain calm, “It’s your birthday today Ana, don’t bother yourself with ugly things..” “It’s past my birthday mama, it’s not my birthday anymore,” Aliana eyes flickered, before she wryly smiled. That’s right. It is past her daughter birthday, and the person they were waiting for still didn’t arrive.

Her fingers curled around the phone. She leaned on the wall, “If he thought I would stay tucked away, broken and quiet, while he walked away from everything with everything, he didn’t know me at all. I’m not Sherah or her foolish mother. I am Rebecca Walton-Hawke's daughter, and we don’t take things lightly.” She muttered dangerously.

Her eyes were filled with resignation. “Lilly… she’s not who you think she is. She’s not my father’s daughter.” I froze, staring at her strangely. “What are you talking about? What do you mean?” “I said, Lily is not my sister; neither is she my father’s daughter.”

I said and she sighed. “Your father isn't Morrison!” She said and my entire world froze looking at her. What the hell? Did she just say what I think I heard! “What!” I exclaimed and she looked at her hand again and sighed. “I know I buried this secret deep and that was what went wrong!” She said and I was trying to wrap my head around what she was saying. “If I am not Morrison's daughter, who am I? Another stupid identity or from another clan that wants my blood and wants me dead!” I asked her and she shook her head.

“I’m sorry about this, Ryatt. Oh, is it okay if I call you that? Or do you prefer your title?” “I don’t know what my title would be at this point.” She purses her lips. “Can you tell me why?” I roll my lower lip into my mouth and cross the room, but I keep my distance from her. The last thing I need is for her mate to pick up my scent on her clothing. “You have an exceedingly powerful and… uncontrollable daughter.” “Hmm,” she hums, a real smile brushing over her lips. “I do, don’t I?”

She wasn’t going to entertain a conversation she didn’t want to have. “How long are you going to abandon her, Amara? She's your daughter too—” “She isn’t my daughter,” she cut him off harshly, her voice sharp like broken glass, each word biting. Her breath hitched, betraying the control she desperately clung to. “She is Killian’s daughter, and I have nothing to do with her. Not now, and not in the future either.”

This was not her Jane Dunn! This was not her daughter! Her daughter was the most youthful and prideful red rose in all of Shanghai! W-who… are you!”

Now wasn't the time to think of these things. “She's good—” “Then why isn't she here? Did you invite her?” my father's voice got deeper which meant he was getting serious. “Sorry for expecting some privacy from my parents first.” “She is family” But she wasn't, she was the daughter of his biggest business partner, we didn't have all the time in the world to get used to cucumbers, true. “You will get to see her tonight," I told them. "She's crazy.”

Because no matter how much whiskey I drink, no matter how many times I remind myself who she is… she keeps showing up. Her face, her voice, those fucking eyes. Annoying as hell. She’s Hearst’s daughter. A means to an end, that’s it. So why the fuck am I thinking about her?