Romans & histoires The Son Of Bigfoot 2

“Then let me give you some good news. “The old, run-down property you transferred to me was bought out for redevelopment. The payout was several million dollars.” For one brief second, hope flashed across Dad’s face. Before he could say anything, I continued. “Too bad it has nothing to do with you.” I looked at him and smiled. “After all, I’m not your son.” Dad’s face went gray. As for Howard, he got into a police car. I got on a plane. In the end, we both headed toward the futures we deserved.

It could be Jareth, or it could be Jasper, or it could be the Beta himself coming to avenge his daughter. Luckily, it was just the hunter. Apparently, he hadn’t found any game this time, as he was empty-handed. He hung the bow back on the wall, and took off the quiver of arrows, and went to wash his hands before he sat down at the table. I gave him the plate I had prepared for myself and went back to fix another. Father and son dug into the food like they hadn’t eaten in days. Jareth polished all the meat from the bones before he spoke. “I’ve never had a duck like that. It didn’t taste gamey at all.”

The man was shameless! Laughing, Atlas lifts a hand and gently tugs my hand away, then kisses my palm. Eyes widening, I watch as Aiden and Duncan take us in with looks of disbelief. "Don’t touch my mommy!" Aiden yells. "Um… maybe I should…" Duncan begins, but stops as Atlas stands and takes Aiden from him. "Leave." "I think that’s a good idea," Atlas agrees. "There’s a lot that I need to discuss with my son."

I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I could feel sweat breaking out on my neck. For the first time in my adult life, I had completely lost my composure. "I am seven years old, Silas Mercer. You do the math." I stood up so abruptly my chair scraped loudly against the floor. I didn't need a DNA test. The proof was sitting right there, wearing a backpack and judging me with my own eyes. This boy, this brilliant, terrifying little boy... is my son. I'm already a father?

I just entered a taxi real quick. Memories flooded me as I sat in the car. All the moments spent with Jeremy.Jeremy was tall with dark brown hair, a sharp jawline with a hint of stubble.His hazel-green eyes were my favorite features and his broad shoulders with bulky muscles. He was his father’s only son in charge of the multi billion dollar business across the majority of the states.

It was also double the size compared to our house, so I knew Uncle Richard was really wealthy. I took a deep breath before following him downstairs. I had to look for him because I couldn't see him when I went down. I looked around until I found him outside their house. I walked slowly towards him until he noticed me. When he saw me, he gave me a sweet smile, which I returned, then took a deep breath. "Are you okay?" he asked me gently. I nodded in response. "Just forgive my son, okay? That's just how he is, but he's kind. You'll get along eventually."

But through one meritorious deed after another, he eventually became the leader of the Blackscale Syndicate and Dominic's chosen successor, which also made him my brother. "What on earth is going on here?" Claire pressed anxiously. "She's Emilie Holloway—my biological daughter. She's not the real Whitethorn heiress!" Dominic pointed at Claire's eyes as he stabbed a knife forward. "Are you blind? Can't you even recognize your own daughter? In that case, these eyes won't be necessary at all. "Men! Gouge out her eyes and feed them to the dogs!" Claire let out a blood-curdling scream and begged for mercy, but she was still dragged away.

She also felt responsible for the whole situation, but in her mind, nothing justified Benjamim’s disappearance for an entire day. “I met someone,” he said, looking into her eyes, wondering if he should tell Carlota. “I found out I have a son.” Carlota looked at him in shock, momentarily thinking Benjamim was joking with her sanity. He couldn’t be serious. “A son?” she smiled in disbelief. “Which clever woman is trying to pull a fast one on you this time?” “A son with Antonella,” he finally confessed. “He’s three years old, and his name is Adam.”

"Mom, I've wanted a new phone forever. Buy me one, okay? That stingy family never gets me anything. They wouldn't even upgrade my phone. It's ridiculous." I stared at him, speechless. Did he still think he was my pampered "son" from his last life? Axel and Nate stepped out in their pajamas. When they saw Phillip lounging comfortably in our living room, both of them froze in confusion. "What's going on?" Nate asked. Before I could explain, Phillip jumped in. "Dad, you don't remember me? I'm your son, Phillip!" Axel bristled immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about? This is my dad and my mom. Not yours."