Who Is The Author Of Michael Redgrave, My Father?

Everyone seems to be in love but me. Why is that? Relationship after relationship, and nothing. I’m always the bridesmaid, but never the bride. It’s getting old. Fast. And just when I start to give up, he walks into my life. Sexy, strong, older. The father of one of my students. It’s against the rules to feel the way I do about him, but I can’t help myself. A single father with a sexy demeanor and deep pockets. But that’s not what gets me about him. It’s the way he looks at me. As if he already owns me. The relationship can be our little secret. Or can it?

My mother was my father’s sugar baby. Every year, he would hold her in his arms and promise, “Wait for me. Next year, I’ll marry you.” He said it for five years. In the end, he married a woman from his own social circle instead. My mother never got the wedding she dreamed of. After that, she became unstable and cruel. She used me as a way to get my father’s attention. “Go. Call your father and tell him you’re sick. Tell him to come see you.” But my father only frowned and yelled at me. “You’re already learning to lie from your mother at such a young age? Always haunting me like this. Disgusting.” They blamed all the anger they had for each other on me. Later, my father’s wife gave birth to a son. He became the perfect husband and father in everyone’s eyes. My mother only grew worse. She hit me harder and harder, all just to make my father come look at her once. When I was seven, I fell down the stairs and broke my leg. I begged my mother to take me to the hospital. She slapped me hard across the face. “What are you pretending for? You fall once and suddenly your leg is broken? You’re just like your irresponsible father. You were born to make me suffer.” My father rushed over, but he only shoved my mother to the floor in irritation. “If you use this little bastard to fake being sick and trick me again, don’t expect another cent from me.” Their screams and sobs tangled together. I lay on the cold floor, slowly losing consciousness. This time, could they finally stop fighting?

I knew that my father did not like me since I was young. When I wanted to commit suicide to end the pain caused by my illness, he was celebrating another child’s birthday. He hated my mother and me alongside her. So, when I told him that I was sick, he did not believe me. “Is this your new tactic to get money from me?” No one believed that the daughter of the Powell family could die because she was too poor to pay the hospital fees. My father did not believe it either. However, when he saw my dead body, the famous actor who hated his daughter actually went insane.

I had two fathers. One was Vincenzo, who was gentle and cultured. The other was Matteo, who was called "Il Diavolo Sanguinario", meaning the bloodthirsty devil, by everyone. Both were men my grandfather, Don Rossi, had chosen for my mother, Sofia. In my last life, my mother had chosen Vincenzo, thinking he was the man she could trust for the rest of her life. But after a woman called Carla came between them, he grew colder toward my mother and me. He took Carla's side and became convinced that my mother had drugged him on purpose and slept with other men. In his eyes, I was a bastard whose father was unknown. After my grandpa passed away, Carla framed my mother repeatedly. Vincenzo would let her get away with it every time. He had even forced my mother to apologize and locked us in the basement, to the point of starving to death in the end! When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my fifth birthday party. My grandpa was still gravely ill, and he was urging my mother to make a choice. "Sofia, whoever you choose will inherit everything in the Rossi family and protect you and Lia in my place." Mom held me in her arms, hesitant to make a decision. I pointed at the man everyone called the Diavolo Sanguinario. "Pick him! Only he can protect us!"

He’s his mother’s new husband. He’s the last man Jason should want. And yet… he can’t stop wanting him. Jason returns home after years away only to discover his mom is married to Adler John-Baron, a dangerously powerful politician with secrets behind his perfect smile. Their marriage is meant to be simple: he helps her seek justice for her late husband who was murdered, while he gets the perfect family image for his Senate run, debunking all rumors about his sexuality. As Jason digs into the truth behind his father’s sudden death, what he uncovers could destroy everything. But the real problem? He’s already falling for the one man who should be off-limits. This steamy romance dives into the thrill of forbidden desire, buried secrets, and the brutal cost of falling in love with the wrong person.

After reuniting with my birth family, my wealthy biological father tossed me a black card and laid down one rule: I could spend as much as I wanted, but I was never to call him Dad—that title belonged only to his adoptive daughter. Clutching the black card, I cautiously bought myself a two-dollar-fifty ice cream cone. Just as I was happily licking the sweet ice cream, the adoptive daughter dropped to her knees before me. "Alice, are you mocking me because I can't even afford something that costs two-fifty in the future?" My brother immediately slapped me twice. "You have money now, but you can't split love. Natalie is my one and only sister!" Then my father splashed boiling water onto my face. "No disgraceful wretch deserves to be a Gervais." To punish me, they sent me off to Rimala, forced to work as a child laborer in the mines. Ten years later, I walked into a grand banquet hall with an ice cream in hand and came face-to-face with my brother, Ansel Gervais, dressed in a hand-tailored suit. "All these years and you're still a disgrace," he sneered, but I couldn't be bothered to argue. "Let go. My dad's waiting for me—and if I'm any later, the ice cream's going to melt." He looked down at me with contempt. "Dad? Who gave you permission to call him that? Natalie will forever be the only Gervais girl—no one can take that away from her!" I rolled my eyes. Who said I was talking about that cheap excuse for a father? I was talking about my adoptive father—the oil tycoon with an incurable sweet tooth. I was in a hurry to let him taste some ice cream.