Story About Father Novels & Stories

It's true I didn't want to hear his story, but now, I couldn't quench the rising curiosity. "You know what, my father never loved me. He was the cruelest man I knew. If he loved anything that was his safe where he kept all his filthy money. But guess what," he straightened, putting his feet down, "that night he told me, the son he hated, to hide in his beloved safe, and I did." Then his face darkened. "I stayed there when that boy tore through the door and killed my father. Slit his throat right before he ripped his heart out. I stayed when he left, and my father's body rotted in his own blood the whole night. I stayed when men came and took him away." He got up, walking to the window and lo

“Opportunity.” I heard Hugo laugh with a grunt. “That's right, opportunity. Your parents really suck.” My head turned quickly and my eyes stared at him. “What do you mean?” Hugo glanced at me and grinned. “Your father hasn't told you that?” Of course he meant Father, not my real father or my dead adoptive father or anyone else, but Father. Before I could ask Father using our usual inner communication, he already whispered into my mind softly, “Let him tell the story, my dear. He was the one who confronted them face to face.”

"I don't have time to get involved in your messy drama. You promised you'd help me, Wesley, so I'm taking you with me right now." The man who spoke was Bernard Hough, the father of my first love, Erika Hough. Back then, both Erika and I had our unavoidable reasons. I had been burdened by my family, while she bore the responsibility for her own. We were destined to be mere passing travelers in each other's lives. But Erika had been far more resolute than I had ever been. In her attempt to see me one last time, she ended up in a car accident and had not woken up since.

I didn’t want to lie to my father anymore then I have. “Yeah ok, I’ll send you some in a bit ok. I got to go my dad’s back.” I hung up the phone, and put it into my pocket and went to greet my father. My father was really happy talking about how he was talking to this lady today at coffee, she was really nice and asked him to meet him for dinner. It was cute to see him get all excited over a date, my mother passed away when I was 3 years old from cancer. He hasn’t dated since besides the odd conversations, I was so happy to see him willing to meet someone knew.

“If Rachel is such a good mother, then why don’t you go be her child’s father?” “Oh! You’re already Aileen’s dad, aren’t you? Back in the forest, you kept calling yourself ‘Daddy Carlson’ like she was your own.” “I told you a thousand times—I’m an Alpha. I’m the father of the whole pack! Aileen lost her father. What’s wrong with me looking after her?” “Are you the last male in Moonshadow Pack?” I used to wonder about it, so I secretly ran paternity tests on Carlson and Aileen—more than once. Every time, the result was the same. They weren’t blood-related.

Her hands clutched my clothes desperately, fingers digging into fabric as if she could anchor me to the floor if she held tight enough. “I will come back,” I whispered into her hair. It was a lie. But it was all I had. They came that night. Three men. Heavy boots. Dark jackets. The kind of men who did not look around when they entered a room because they already owned it. My father opened the door without argument. My mother screamed my name. One of the men grabbed my arm. His grip was firm, practiced. I did not fight. Fighting was what children did when they believed rescue was possible.

“Straight to the point, right? Like father, like son.” Mathias meets the old man’s eyes with total indifference. Clearing his throat, Mr. Robinson continues. “It’s been a while since your father disinherited you.” Mathias keeps his cool but wonders where the hell this is coming from after all those years. His father, Alexander Raptis, had threatened to reject Mathias when he learnt that his only son wanted to marry a peasant girl from a lower class. Mathias knew that his father hadn’t made that decision himself.

And as he looked into his father's tear-filled eyes, he knew that he would stop at nothing to uncover the truth. "Tell me a story, Father," Jack said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. "Tell me about the fool who thought he could play God and get away with it." And as his father's tears continued to fall, Jack knew that the real battle had only just begun.

" His words sent a thrill through me, but Susan beamed with uncontained joy. I opened my mouth to tell my father the truth, but I hesitated. I remembered Susan's promise—she only needed one day to experience this life, and then she would return my father to me. So, I swallowed my urge to speak. "Dad, uh… Do you need a housekeeper at home?" Susan shot me a look, silently pleading with my father not to keep me around. My fists clenched tightly. I couldn't believe she was going back on her word. My father turned to me, his gaze softening with an unexpected warmth. Then, slowly shaking his head, he murmured, "It's… it's uncanny how much you look like her." He then asked, "Are you married?"

Benson isn't as rich as my father according to what Mother said, but Benson had these flies around too so I can imagine what it would be like for a multi billionaire. We waited for a few more minutes before the men came back with the food. Soon, we were back on the road while Father and I ate at the back of the car. "Tell me what I do not know about you," Father said, wiping his mouth with a towel. I paused from chewing the food in my mouth as I began to think of what he needed to know about me that he didn't. "I studied Therapy," "Oh really?" Father asked with a proud smile on his face. I didn't need to reply because he said,