Vengeful Father Syndrome Novels & Stories

Trevor looked squarely at Oliver. Raven was silent for a moment, “So, since the vampires are taking them, it’s possible that your father isn’t involved,” concluded Raven. “Was he a suspect?” asked Oliver. “Yes,” replied Raven, she wasn’t going to lie to him. “A high enough suspect to cuddle up to his son?” For some reason that bugged Oliver, he knows she has legit feelings for him, but to know that she only went for him in the beginning was because of his father… rubbed him the wrong way.

"Kurt, stop lying!" She went over to Florence, tears streaming. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't bear the guilt anymore. The girl in the video isn't Stephanie. I know how she died." "What?" Florence's eyes widened, her face ashen as she leaned closer. "It was him." My mom pointed at me. "He killed them. He's got that super-male syndrome and he has violent streak. He killed countless pets when he was a child and I covered for him. But I never imagined he'd murder his kids. We tried to stop him, but he swore each time was the last."

My father died of a stroke, and my stepfather did the same in prison when my people exposed his dirty work. I wanted my son to be strong, even though I couldn’t give him what he needed, and now I was confused. But he grew up so defiant and rebellious. His cockiness and obstreperous attitude exhaust me and pushes me to the limit. I wasn’t dumb; I knew he had demons. And I blame myself for it. I knew he was abused; I saw that in his intense, tone-changing eyes. He was harmed physically and emotionally. Not exactly in the way I was, but he had his own battle.

It breathes, It waits and It wants. My father calls it the Baranov bloodline, said the men in our family were born with a fracture in the skull where mercy was supposed to grow. The Bratva calls it something far simpler: nature or a sharpened instinct, an inherited cruelty, a legacy carved into bone. But the psychologists my father forced me to see before sending me to Blackthorn had far more complicated names for it. “Conduct disorder evolving into antisocial tendencies, High-callousness traits with Emotional detachment consistent with psychopathy spectrum indicators”

My emotions were boiling over, ready to explode at any moment. As a father, he was truly unforgivable. If it had been my birthday, I wouldn’t have cared if he didn’t come because I knew his heart wasn’t with me anymore. But Jensen was his flesh and blood. Couldn’t he spare even a moment to celebrate Jensen’s special day? No wonder Jensen wanted nothing; he just wanted his father’s presence because he knew his father had changed.

They were aggravating, and my wolf was already at its breaking point as the argument proceeded. Vaughn, my father was my greatest adversary. He wanted me to get the death penalty and I could see it in his eyes, felt it in every pores on my skin as he spoke swelling words that were guaranteed to bury me alive and paint me as a wild beast that was only profiled to cause mayhem.

I could feel her tension radiating, but also her trust—and that trust strengthened the resolve building inside me. By the time we reached my second penthouse, I was pacing, heart hammering, fists clenched. My father was not just a criminal; he was dangerous, ruthless, and unpredictable. He had billions, influence, and a network of loyalists willing to do whatever he ordered. And now, he had a personal vendetta against me. Against us. I dropped into a chair, running my hands through my hair. “He won’t stop. Not until he destroys me, or anyone I care about,” I muttered.

He stumbled to his feet, filled with anger, and started punching and kicking Nathan, saying, "You ungrateful child. How dare you hit your own father? Aren't you afraid of facing consequences?" Nathan forcefully pushed him away, saying, "My retribution? I have a father like you, whose values are so twisted. I have your dirty blood running through my veins, and I have long suffered the consequences. Cheating, abandoning my spouse to marry a mistress... Ha, ha, isn't my life just an imitation of yours?" Because the father and son were tearing each other apart so badly, and because their identities were too prestigious, the onlookers in the bar quickly raised their phones and captured the scene

And with it the contempt of his parents, especially his father. Even though they have not been in contact at all, he knew that his father still had a grudge against him and he could not blame him for this. Being inconsequential is, perhaps, what can end someone's life. Be it in a relationship, be it in a friendship, be it in a family. Robert managed to be in every pillar. Today, with such different thinking, he feels like beating his old self until he falls to the ground in tears and learns in pain what it is like to hurt the other people who cared so much for him. Sometimes the meaning of care for the son is not the same for the father, and this difference was the main trigger for all that

I don’t know why I said that, but I thought it was best for him to know. “And?” Zaverio cocked his head. “I have no business with his family; we aren’t like the barbaric groups you’re used to investigating. His wife and children have done nothing to me, but there will be someone watching them until the day they die.” “Isn’t that a little too extreme?” I tried not to tremble under his unwavering gaze. “My father was killed because he refused to see the rat he had enabled; he took him in like a son, and what did he get in return? A bullet in the back. If any of his children so much as think of avenging their father’s death, they’ll join him.”