The Family Upstairs Kindle Novels & Stories

Before, I would always advise him, make him study hard, make him understand that as the heir to the family, he needed wisdom, not just brute force; such a family wouldn't last. Now, I'm tired. So tired that even breathing is a burden. “Do as you please, do whatever you want,” I said. As soon as I stepped into the house, the old wooden door behind me slammed shut. A lock slid into place. “This is Mr. Pete's order,” a woman outside said, “You stay here and reflect until you realize your mistakes.” I remained silent. Over the next few days, the food became increasingly scarce, and eventually, even the food that was delivered was spoiled.

She slumped on the floor like a heap of mud, her eyes hollow, murmuring the same words over and over. “It was me… aflatoxin… I poisoned my own daughter with my own hands… I deserve to go to hell… I deserve to go to hell…” On this New Year’s Eve, the illusion carefully maintained for twenty years was completely shattered by a single diagnosis and the cold weight of the truth. “Daniel Carter! Look at this! Look at what you’ve done!” My uncle was the first to slam the table and stand up, veins bulging on his forehead. His trembling finger pointed at my mother collapsed on the floor, then jabbed toward my father, whose face had turned the color of ash.

The house smelled like sage, roasted garlic, and the cinnamon candles Mom had lit everywhere. Thanksgiving was tomorrow, but half the family had already rolled in tonight, uncles, aunts, cousins, the whole loud pack. Dad insisted we host because, well, we could. Biggest place in the family, biggest dining room, biggest everything. Marble floors, double ovens, wine cellar nobody ever touched except Uncle Ray when he thought no one was looking. I was used to it. The house was alive in that loud, messy way only big family gatherings can be. Dad’s mansion in the hills - marble floors, twenty-foot ceilings, the kind of place that makes people whisper when they walk in.

"Most everything here belongs to the family. It will never leave this house." My eyes wash over everything inside with a new appreciation. This stuff is ours now? It's all too nice—what if I ruin it or break it or... "Oh. So everything is passed down to the next Alpha?" Adam nods. "Come. See the rest of the house." He takes me around, down hallways, into room after room. The kitchen is three times the size of grandma's and must have enough food stored away to last one whole apocalypse and then some. I'm not sure how much werewolves eat, but from peeking inside the fridge, it sure looks like a lot. The house seems endless at one point. We leave the family room and head upstairs. The railing l

We were just a product of wrong parenting, society's misfits. I sighed for the hundredth time that night. Ahead of us, I saw the three monsters talking to an elderly couple while taking measured looks in my direction. My heart clenched, I knew the old woman. She was part of the first family, Lucian was indeed right. My family was selling me as a bartering chip to gain more power and influence. Being friends with the Zorya and gaining the trust of the first family. My family is becoming more monstrous than they were already are.

"What's this supposed to mean, Heidi? You're the one who arranged for this ski trip, and now that we've all made our way here, you're off to another country? How could you do this to us?" I massaged my ear. "That's right. A family trip where the four of you stay in the top-floor suite while I stay in a storage room—what a great arrangement!" Mom replied, "I knew it—you're still upset about this. Can you stop being unreasonable, Heidi? It's not that we didn't want to book you a suite—it's just that they're fully booked. "Besides, what's wrong with the storage room? It's not like it's uninhabitable. It's just for sleeping during the nights, can't you just bear with it?"

The Jenkins family head had always been exceptionally smart—rarely matched by anyone. In the time spent on the car ride, he had memorized all of Ted’s details. Ted’s face went pale. He gritted his teeth and warned Carl: "Brother, don’t interfere with things that don’t concern you! If you want to help, focus on the serial killer upstairs!" A sickly person like him, even with an extraordinary aura, dared to lecture him? Ted squinted. He couldn’t fight the crazy little girl upstairs. But dealing with this well-dressed, pampered young man from a wealthy family? He had all the strength he needed!

I flick my head at the familiar males and walk a bit faster, now really wanting that steak. When I finally reach the door, I take the stairs two or three at a time. Sometimes being a tall muscular bastard has its perks. The upstairs of the entire place is one massive home to every wayward degenerate that ever crossed paths with Dozer Dennison and lived to tell about it. Home … to the Flying Death.

You could see the whole town from the great room with the five-foot fireplace. He kept his silence as they walked through while the other man rambled on about all the amenities and what a great structure it was. Apparently, the builder had used the best of everything on the market. "I'll take it." "Don't you want to see the upstairs, son?" "I don't imagine that anyone who'd take the time to make this place such a gem would do any less upstairs. I'll leave that to my wife." Fuck, the word just slipped out, but the way gramps reacted, you'd think he'd just won the lottery.

“It’s fine, Naomi. You seem to have a problem with me now that you are a part of this family.” Though stunned, I quickly got a grip on myself and declined the suggestion. To my surprise, Keith agreed without getting my consensus. I was disgruntled. It was absurd enough that I had to share a bed with my mother-in-law on my wedding night, but she took up the space between me and my husband too. Whitney glanced at me before sprawling herself across the sanctity of my bed. “A good wife shouldn’t be so petty. You should be kind to your husband’s family.”