Who Is John Stonehouse In My Father: The True Story?

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?

++18 This one is scandalous Would you risk it all for pleasure? Brandi and Gio were never meant to happen and should not have happened, but....one fateful night, an unexpected encounter, they both experienced fire they had never felt before, and for them, there was no turning back. His daughter's best friend to the woman in his bed. Giovanni will have a hard time accepting Brandi is no longer the little girl he once knew.

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”

His eyes darkened as he leaned closer, placing a finger on my mouth. “Uh-uh, what did I say you call me when we're alone?” My body tingled with heat. “Daddy?” “Urgh…” A guttural groan tore from his chest. “Yes, baby?” My mind spaced for a second and Andre took advantage of that, tucking his hands under my legs and carrying me bridal style. “Andre, what are you doing?!” I shriek, dangling my legs in the air. “Finishing what we started, baby.” he chuckled, heading straight for the front door. I shook my head in bemusement. His daughter just found out about us and his brain goes straight to sex? Men… I wasn't any better though as I just waited for him to cross that threshold and pounce on me, instead of dissuading him. He strode over to the loveseat couch, sliding me down his body before pushing me back to the couch. Propped up on my elbows, I looked up at him with hooded eyes, only for the the door knob to flip. My eyes widened and instantly, I jerked up to my feet, coming to stand behind Andre. I had no idea who it was as Claire would have just barged right in. The door opening seemed to take several minutes but in reality, it was only seconds. It swung inwards to reveal Leila, the last person I was expecting to see. She took one look at us and wasn't in the least bit surprised. “So it's true?” Those cold grey eyes moved over to me. “You're the whore that's fucking my husband?”

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!"

My three-year-old son looked nothing like my husband. Suspicious, my father-in-law secretly took my son for a paternity test. The results showed that there was no biological relationship between them. Furious and humiliated, my father-in-law erupted in anger, hurling insults at me and even threatening to kill us. My husband, just as enraged, slapped me hard across the face. "You shameless wrench! You've made me raise another man's child for three years!" As I stared at their accusing faces, I calmly produced another report—the paternity test between my husband and his father. It confirmed they weren't biologically related either. Their expressions froze in shock. With a faint smile, I said, "Looks like we don't know for sure who isn't part of this family, do we?"