113 Book(s) Related to colby-brock-daughter

At the parents' meeting, the daughter's diary was read aloud: "My father is the Grand Duke of the Night."
The room erupted in laughter.
The mentor, disregarding her daughter's dignity, tore up her diary, while the nouveau riche woman advised me , a liar, to "get out of this neighborhood."
I didn't say anything, I just stood up. Then, their knees were all shattered.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

To save my terminally ill wife and daughter, I drained half my wolf blood and tore out my own right fang.
Stripped of my source power, I became a worthless wolf despised by the entire clan.
My wife cast me out of the den, pinching her nose at the stench of rot on me; my daughter threw stones at me, cursing me with hatred as a blind, useless failure.
Together, they set their eyes on another young, strong Alpha. They let him trample my dignity in public, and finally had me brutally slaughtered on the frozen wasteland.
But they never knew, the reason that man could make their souls submit and fall for him was that his veins ran entirely with my heart's blood.
Only when I was reduced to a boneless husk of a wolf did my wife go mad, clawing her own gland raw, weeping and begging me to leave her one last mark.

For five years, my marriage was nothing but a lie, a perfect show Aiden staged for the entire family.
I loved him for more than a decade. And for his lover, he threw our five-year-old daughter, Chloe, into the basement to be fed to his Dobermans.
All because Chloe accidentally shattered an antique crystal cup, a so-called love token between Aiden and his precious Sophia.
I dropped to my knees and begged. He looked at me like I was nothing and said Family rules matter more than blood.
When I carried my daughter’s mutilated body out of that basement, fireworks were exploding on the rooftop above, celebrating his grand confession of love to Sophia.
He froze my accounts. And on the day of Chloe’s funeral, he took her to a concert.
I was holding my daughter’s ashes, trapped, desperate, with nowhere left to go when a message from an unknown number appeared. A car was waiting at the side gate. It was Daniel, my childhood friend.
Only after I disappeared with my daughter’s ashes did Aiden finally realize the truth—that the “sweet, innocent” Sophia was the real killer of his own child.

My daughter Lily was shot dead while she was performing on her own stage.
I rushed forward to shield her, and a speaker crashed down onto my right shoulder. The bone shattered.
My husband, Vincent, “shot the gunman dead” at once and sealed off the entire opera house.
When I woke up in the hospital room, the pain almost suffocated me. My right shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and when I tried to raise my arm, all I felt was a numb.
“…This isn’t what we agreed on.” The doctor’s voice was low and unsteady. “We only needed her blood sample for matching. Why did it have to go this far?”
“Lily’s blood type is a perfect match. This is the best possible outcome,” Vincent said. “I married Elena for this moment. I’ve been waiting for it.”
The doctor was silent for a few seconds. “But she’s your daughter… There’s no need to sacrifice a life, even if she is a Salaceno.”
Vincent cut him off. “You know how long an artificial heart can last. Camila’s daughter won’t hold out for long. I can’t put her through another surgery.”
“Camila’s child is the one I should cherish.”
At that moment, my blood ran cold. In his eyes, my daughter was nothing but an organ container.
He had no idea. All that talk about protecting his precious daughter—she wasn't even his.

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

My wife was a fearsome Mafia queen in Chicago.
On the anniversary of our daughter's death, she didn't show up.
When I arrived, the male college student she was keeping was trampling on my daughter's black-and-white portrait.
Instead of scolding him, my wife shielded him in her arms: "Marco was just a child, why are you arguing with him?"
She thought I would be like a dog, forever subservient to her for wealth and power, enduring her betrayal.
Until I discovered the true cause of my daughter's tragic death—
I simply pulled out a gun and pressed the muzzle against her forehead.

Nicolai Petrovich never wanted to be a hero—he has too much blood on his hands and too many ghosts in his past. The only thing that ever kept him human was his sister. And when Selene dies in a night of gunfire and chaos, something breaks inside him that will never heal again.
But hell has a sense of irony: on the day he buries his sister, Nicolai is forced into a marriage with Alessandro De Luca—the heir of the most ruthless mafia family in the city. The Phantom. The man everyone fears.
What was meant to be a political alliance quickly turns into a battle for dominance and sanity. Alessandro claims Nicolai as if he has every right to—through orders, through touch, through a kiss that feels less like affection and more like a brand burned into skin. And Nicolai hates it… almost as much as he hates that his body doesn’t always agree with him.
Caught between loyalty, guilt, and a man who sees right through him, Nicolai starts to fall. Deeper, darker, more dangerously than he ever should.
Because Alessandro is no legend, no myth—he’s far worse: a man who always gets what he wants.
And he wants Nicolai.
What follows is a war of desire, power, and broken promises. A marriage that isn’t one. A prison without bars. And a man fighting not to lose himself to someone who might bring him back to life… or destroy him completely.
Forced Marriage with the Devil — a story about obsession, pain, unwanted intimacy, and the slow, brutal fight for freedom… or personal ruin.