The Fall Of Daddy Novels & Stories

Kaleb was knocking on the mansion doors, singing the lyrics. ~ ”Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know” ~ Her father, Philip Barnes, had already opened the door at that point. He replied, just as it was chanted in the song. ~ ”You say I'll never get your blessin' 'til the day I die Tough luck, my friend, but the answer is no" ~ Philip Barnes slammed the door in front of Kaleb. Laughter filled the air, seeing Kaleb in a defeated state.

I never imagined the devious plot behind all of this. [Oh my God, these two deserve to rot in hell. A father was manipulated by his mistress and killed his own daughter!] I watched them closely when they realized the plot had been exposed—their faces turned as white as a sheet. Cody's legs gave out, and he collapsed in a heap. They had been desperately crying on the stream, accusing me of killing my daughter and painting me as cruel and heartless. It drew in countless viewers, and media outlets crowded around to cover the scene.

“We’ve cut ties.” “But you did?” Daddy tilts his head. “You know that’s not entirely possible.” “You cut yours.” Julian retorts. “I renounced the fortune. I’m no longer the O’Neil’s heir.” My father pauses, looking directly at Julian as if I’m not even here anymore. “But you’re still the rightful heir of the Adams.”

Just silence that cut deeper than any scream. I took a step closer, fists balled, my tears falling harder. “You seized everything I had. Every account. Every project. And now Hope Foundation—the only thing I was holding onto, the only thing I thought I could save—you set it on fire. You burnt it to the ground!” My voice rose until it cracked into a sob. “For what, Daddy? For what?” Finally, the paper lowered. His eyes, cold and unflinching, met mine. His words came sharp, each syllable like a blade.

He didn’t need to. He’d already won. The ground shook beneath my feet. I pulled Kian behind me, heart hammering so loud it drowned everything else out. My legs wanted to run. My soul wanted to fight. I blinked… And suddenly my father was there. Bleeding. Collapsing. His chest rose once. Shuddered. Then stilled. He tried to speak. His mouth moved. But no sound came. Only blood. I dropped to my knees. “Papa, please…”

I shook my head and shouted back, “No! Mommy said she left me lots of things, and I don’t need you.” I used to only hate Auntie Benita, but now I hated Daddy more. He was the one who opened the door and let the wolf in to bite Mommy. He was worse than a wolf. Auntie Benita tugged at him from behind. “Let’s go. We’re not welcome. There’s no point trying to win them over.” Daddy shook her hand off and bowed toward Mommy’s grave. Then he turned and left. The path under his feet was perfectly flat, but he walked unsteadily, as if he might fall at any moment.

The ink pad in Daniel’s hand hit the floor with a dull clatter. “Dad, I…” It looked as if his spine had been completely ripped out of him. With a loud thud, he fell straight to his knees. “Dad, I was wrong! I was possessed. “I didn’t mean to do it, I just had a momentary lapse of judgment…” He crawled forward two steps on his knees and reached out to grab my father’s hand. But my father quickly pulled his hand back.

I had tried to stay away from the television because of the second hand embarrassment, but when my eyes caught it again as Dane kept me by his side, the camera angle was on my dad, up close, and he was being escorted into a van, in handcuffs, alongside a female officer. In the midst of that, something maddening happened. I watched his eyes shake the second his eyes fell on the female officer. This man experienced and underwent real shock, the real tightening and closing in of his lungs, he just passed out. My father passed out on live television. I had no reactions left in me, or so I thought, as he was bundled and driven away, presumably to a hospital first. I forced myself not to lose my m

I reached out, my fingers clawing at the empty air, but there was nothing to catch me. I saw the roof receding. I saw Marcus and Sienna leaning over the edge, watching me fall like I was nothing more than a piece of trash they had thrown away. They weren't crying. They weren't screaming. They were just watching. I fell through the dark. The wind tore at my hair and my dress. I saw the lights of the city flashing by—floor after floor of the building my father had built. I thought of my dad. I thought of how much I had let him down. I thought of my own heart, which had shattered long before I hit the ground.

I’d never come hands free until him. My head feels like it’s going to explode. “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good. Please, daddy.” "How good?” He’s not even sweating, and I’m close to flooding his house. My dick is so sensitive right now that the featherest of touches will send me over the edge. And the fucker knows, he’s stopped touching my dick altogether. “Very good. I’ll be very good for you, so please.” I cry, there’s actual tears in my eyes.