New Year’s Eve brandon

Elena Carter makes a reckless decision to lose her virginity in the arms of a stranger after her wild night at the club. Drunk and dizzy, she follows the dangerous Billionaire Mafia heir Mr. Brandon into the darkness. But by morning all she remembers is his voice, his tattoos and the way his touch made her heartbeat race. Elena is shocked to discover Mr. Brandon is not an ordinary man. And worst of it all. He is engaged to her cruel step sister. Elena tries to walk away. But Mr. Brandon doesn’t let her go, instead he pulls her back to his world of power, secrets, betrayal and desires.

When Elena Thunder finds the most perfect man to kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve, she thinks its fate. But little does she know that Knight Blaze isn’t as simple as he seems and that the only reason he spends the night with her is because he has something entirely different on his mind. Come morning, Knight leaves Elena feeling hurt and betrayed and with something she’d have never anticipated from a one-night stand with a stranger, a baby conceived on New Year’s Eve. But Elena isn’t weak and she doesn’t let heartbreak bring her down. She decides to raise her child without a father. But fate has other plans for her as she accidentally bumps into Blaze once more during a fashion show and this time, he’s determined to make her stay.

On New Year's Eve, my own brother slapped me three times. He stood there, full of himself, and spat at me in disgust. "This is my house. Who do you think you are, coming in here and telling me what to do? Get out. You're nothing but bad luck. If you dare stay, I'll hit you again." He seemed to have forgotten something. The house he was living in was the one I had bought for Mom. The jewelry his wife wore was all paid for by me. The money in his children's hands was the generous allowance I had just given them. My face still burning, I looked around at the others. My sister-in-law curled her lips into a mocking smile and let out an icy snort. The two children stared at me with open hostility. Mom, who had called me there tonight for my birthday, stood silently in the corner. Just like always, her eyes were red, yet she said nothing. At that moment, something in me snapped.

On New Year’s Eve, Kian Newman never came home. Instead, he had someone deliver a container of frozen ravioli and sent me a single message: "Stay safe this year." I had barely locked the screen when a photo popped up in the company group chat. Isabel Wilkinson, Kian's assistant, had posted it. It was a lavish holiday dinner spread across the table, every dish clearly homemade. The caption read: "Someone spent all day cooking so I could have a taste of home. Love you." For the first time, I didn’t call or argue. I simply packed my things and went back to my hometown. The first day I vanished, a friend sent me a video. In it, Kian had his arm around Isabel, smiling casually as he said, "Lane's just upset. She’ll come back on her own." A month later, Kian was searching for me like he’d lost his mind. "I learned how to make ravioli, I’ll make it for you for the rest of our lives. Just come home and try it, okay?" He was still oblivious that I had always hated ravioli.

One night, my family sat together watching the New Year’s Eve Live on television. My little sister, Stella Larson, said she had to pee and hurried to the washroom. Half an hour later, she still had not returned. When I went to check on her, the washroom was empty. “When did Stella leave the washroom?” I asked my parents. Both of them were stunned for a moment before feeling my forehead and saying, “What are you talking about? You’re an only child. Who is Stella?” They forcibly pulled me back to my seat. My mind went blank. Did the three of them just pull a prank on me? After finishing his drink, my father clutched his stomach and rushed into the washroom. I stared fixedly at the washroom door. A long time passed, but no one came out. My father had vanished, too. My hand trembled as I pointed at the bathroom. My mother stepped forward to go in. “Don’t go in! Dad and Luna disappeared in there!” My mother looked grief-stricken as she said, “Sweetie, it’s been just the two of us for the past twenty-plus years, remember?” Her words hit me hard. I was in total disbelief. I explained myself frantically, but the more I spoke, the more confused my mother became. She finally shook me off and said, “Why are you doing this to me? I’ve raised you your whole life! Why do you have to ruin New Year’s Eve?” She walked straight into the washroom, and the house soon fell into a dead silence. Terrified, I called my best friend, Kathy Scott, who lived nearby. I rambled incoherently as I begged her for help. But her words utterly crushed me. “What family members? You’re an orphan.” I hung up the phone, rushed out, and pounded frantically on the neighbors’ door.

It's my first time visiting my girlfriend, Jennifer Hayes' family for the holidays. At the dining table, her childhood friend, Duncan Foley, suddenly slams his cutlery down. "How could you bring a prostitute client home for dinner, Jenny?" The atmosphere becomes awkward immediately. Everyone initially thinks that Duncan is running his mouth because he's had too much to drink, but he continues to ramble in a matter-of-fact tone. "My buddy is a part of the anti-prostitution task force! As if I can get the person he's personally arrested wrong!" As he speaks, he tosses a copy of the public security administrative penalty notice onto the table. My name is displayed on it. The sight leaves me stunned. It's true that the anti-prostitution task force arrested dozens of offenders in the city last month. But I'm the one who gave the signature of approval as the newly promoted chief commissioner…