icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

No Mother's Love: A Son's Fight

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 469    |    Released on: 17/06/2025

uneral arran

director was kind

family. I just

heavy weight. Casket, fl

left. Victoria had made s

mple headstone, the local ne

sh Gala for Stepson Ryan Daven

was a

rd Davenport beside her, smug. Ryan, looking a

miles, champagn

"pillar of the communit

lt s

d room, and she was a doting

t me, sharp a

always Hayes I

ng architect, and his father, my grandf

toria. Introduced her to people. Maybe

ack then, ambitiou

m for love and opportunity. I

died, his in

d wasn't eno

firm wasn't growing fast

. Her old flame. He was an o

bags and announced she w

s tw

hard a luxury

not very bright, into St. Augustine's, the mo

d

t at Northwood High, one

lled m

trict lines were

ed me in L

ool in the city. Overcrowded classrooms

would "build

ood's fees anymore, another lie. He

ew. And to make space for

me around, a rem

t didn't want me

r why. The resu

nd she was celebrating a li

st burned

l of applause

quiet sorrow and the t

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
No Mother's Love: A Son's Fight
No Mother's Love: A Son's Fight
“My father, David Miller, lay dying in our small living room, his every breath a struggle. His final whispered wish was for my mother, Victoria Hayes, the cold CEO who had abandoned us years ago for Richard Davenport and a life of immense wealth. When I called, pleading with her to see him one last time, her response was chilling. Over the faint sounds of a lavish party for her stepson, Ryan Davenport, she declared herself too "busy" to attend a dying man's bedside. My father died heartbroken, feeling her absence till the very end. But her cruelty didn't stop there. Days after the funeral, "investigators"-clearly hired by her or Davenport-accused me of cheating on my SATs and then brutally assaulted me, shattering my knee. My own mother, Victoria Hayes, not only refused consent for my emergency surgery, dismissing my critical injuries as "fabricated," but chillingly denied my father's death. The final blow came when I found my father's urn, emptied and desecrated, among the trash. How could a woman, my own mother, be so utterly monstrous? This wasn't just abandonment; it was a calculated campaign of psychological and physical destruction, aimed at erasing every trace of my father and me. Why this depth of malice? Why now? Lying broken, clutching the torn pieces of my Stanford acceptance – the dream they tried to crush – I felt a cold resolve ignite. If they wanted a war, they' d get one. I' d use the truth, an American principle they scoffed at, to expose every lie. I opened my laptop, ready to dismantle her empire piece by piece.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10