Novelas y relatos de Vengeful Father Syndrome

The Cassano family has a strange tradition. Any man who wants to marry me has to go into a dark room with my father for his “test.” Only the ones who pass get to be with me. But over the years, I’ve had several boyfriends, and every single one of them came out of that room a different person, with murder in their eyes. My fifth boyfriend, Dominic, scoffed at the idea. “It’s just some old-school scare tactic.” “I love you, and I want to marry you,” he promised. “Don’t worry, baby.” He went in. When he came out, he looked at me like I was something he’d scraped off his shoe. “You filthy bitch. I can’t believe the Cassano family even lets you live.” He lunged at me, his hands wrapping around my

He replied. "And your mother?" I asked. "She was raped by a man who I thought was my friend." Sylvester said, great pain was showing all over his face. "That man must really be heartless to rape a woman to death. He deserves the worst possible punishment that could be given for such a crime." I said in anger. "You are guilty of it." He said. I was shocked to hear what he just said. "Pardon?" I asked. "Ha ha ha ha ha. What I mean is that, you are guilty of having such a beautiful daughter." He said.

His hands balled into fists at his sides. “Vincent is a liar and a vulture. He doesn’t care about justice for your parents. He wants Obsidian for himself. His father lost everything to mine, and he has spent years planning his revenge. He will feed you half-truths just to turn you against me. The moment you give him what he wants, he will discard you like trash.”

I could almost sense the bloodlust radiating off him. “Being a nuisance is one thing but messing with my family is a whole other line that should never have been crossed,” he muttered insidiously. “I'm going to find this person and make all their nightmares come true, each and every one of them.” A shiver ran down my spine. I could only imagine the gory details. My father was ruthless in every aspect of his life. Business, competition and even more so revenge. You did not want to get on his bad side.

“She hates weakness. She hates anything she can’t manipulate. And you… well, she obviously has nothing on you.” He took a swig of wine. I didn’t know if that was a compliment or an insult. “What about her son?” I asked cautiously. His jaw tightened. “He’s a parasite. Latches onto his mother like a child needing breast milk. Totally useless. My father always knew it. That’s why the clause exists.” There was something deeper in his voice then—a venom I hadn’t heard before. His hate wasn’t cold. It was personal. Deep. Ugly. “And what happens after six months?” I asked.

“I was too young to understand what was happening in my head, and after I had some help, I started to get better, only to have my father dying weeks later. H…He wasn’t a bad person, but he made me promise that I would avenge my mother.” That time, she felt compelled to gasp. How could a father fuel his own son with so much bitterness? So much desire to self-destruct while the man himself had died a quiet death. Hadn’t the man realized how much havoc he would create by feeding more poison into an already disturbed mind?

I have experienced the worst things ever in the history of my existence since I turned eighteen and met my mate. Firstly, my father was falsely accused and convicted of betraying the pack, leading to his execution. This act of injustice left a deep cut in my heart, losing my father in such a horrific and unjust manner. The trauma and grief have fueled my anger and somewhat made me resentful towards the yet-to-be-identified persons who framed my father.

Yes, my father was best friends with his father. They both ran the fucking law firm together, but Reynolds was so selfish and wanted all the victory and money for himself, so he killed my father, my mother and my sister. “I was nine.” I reply through gritted teeth. It's been years but the memory is still fresh in my heart. I did not start up a mafia group for nothing. “My father is not a good man. I know that. My mother is in a coma because of him.” “And I hope that she dies.” I don't hide the coldness in my voice and Vaughn stares at me briefly. But he says nothing.

his dark chuckle resonated, and Tony, grinning maliciously behind him, I never understood what I did to him to make him hate me so much. Maybe I reminded him of how much of a fuck-up he had always been, how my father was the perfect son, the perfect husband, the perfect man and he was just a disappointment that nobody loved. "Dispose of her when you're done," he leered, his voice dripping with venomous fulfillment. "You wouldn't want our legacy tainted by the filth she brings." Vincenzo nodded again, but there was a coldness in his eyes, a flicker of discomfort at his father's callous words.

"She got sick. Cancer. By the time she died, I was twenty-three and drowning in medical debt. Your father never sent a dollar. Never called. Never acknowledged that he had destroyed us." "I am sorry," I said, and I meant it. "I do not want your apology," Elena replied. "I want you to understand what kind of man he was. Not just to you but to everyone he touched. He was not just abusive. He was systematic. Calculated. He built entire lives just to abandon them." I thought about my mother. About Manuel. About Veronica. About everyone, my father had been damaged. Elena was right. His cruelty was not random. It was intentional.