4.5 Hours Novels & Stories

When Nyx Calder enrolls at Briarcrest Academy, she has no intention of climbing its gilded social hierarchy. The school is built on legacy, power, and unspoken rules, and Nyx is there only to survive it. But survival becomes impossible when she collides with Alaric Moore. Briarcrest’s most untouchable student, the unchallenged ruler of its academic and social elite… and the stepbrother she never asked for. Alaric thrives on control. Nyx thrives on defiance. Their rivalry ignites in classrooms and spills into whispered confrontations after hours, each encounter sharpening the tension between them. Forced into constant competition by the academy’s ruthless merit system, they become obsessed with outdoing one another, until hatred begins to feel dangerously like something else. Something forbidden. Something that could destroy them both. Behind Briarcrest’s pristine halls lies a system designed to crush anyone who threatens its order. As Nyx uncovers how deeply the academy manipulates its students, Alaric is forced to choose between the future he was raised for and the girl who refuses to kneel, and when the rules say she should. At Briarcrest, love is forbidden, rebellion is costly, and bloodlines matter more than truth. But how far does the academy’s power really reach? What happens when loyalty to legacy collides with forbidden desire? And when the system demands one of them fall… who will it be? At Briarcrest, breaking the rules could cost them everything, but not breaking them might cost even more.

Vivian Cole has always believed that the law is built on truth. As the brilliant personal assistant and junior lawyer to the formidable Damien Blackwood, managing partner of Blackwood & Vale, she's determined to make her mark through hard work, integrity, and unwavering ambition. Everything changes when a woman presumed dead for four years walks back into the firm carrying secrets capable of destroying powerful people. Within hours, a violent attack forces Vivian into hiding alongside her enigmatic boss, the mysterious Clara Whitmore, and Roman Ellis—a ruthless attorney from a rival law firm whose fearless approach to life is as dangerous as it is irresistible. As they race to unravel a conspiracy rooted in the infamous Morrison case, hidden betrayals, corrupt alliances, and a traitor lurking within the legal world threaten to destroy them long before the truth can be exposed. Caught between two extraordinary men, Vivian finds herself pulled in opposite directions. Damien offers the safety of unwavering loyalty, quiet devotion, and a love that protects. Roman awakens the reckless side she never knew existed, tempting her toward a passion fueled by risk, ambition, and dangerous desire. With every secret uncovered, the line between justice and revenge begins to blur, and Vivian must decide whether to follow the path that feels secure... or the one that could cost her everything. In a world where trust is fragile, love is complicated, and betrayal wears the face of a friend, the most dangerous attachment may not be to the truth—but to the people willing to risk everything for it.

My girlfriend Chloe Bennett's childhood buddy, Daniel Miller, binds himself to a transfer system. Everything he eats gets sent straight into my stomach. He creates a live stream channel and eats nonstop for 12 hours a day to rake in money. Meanwhile, I end up in the ER with acute pancreatitis. I try to explain everything to Chloe, but she just looks at me like I've lost my mind. "How could something that ridiculous exist? If food could magically transfer, nobody would starve in the world. You're just jealous he's making money from streaming." Afterward, Daniel's every live stream triggers another pancreatitis episode, sending me back to the ER until I'm barely holding on. I get tested, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong. They even want to admit me to psych. Later, in a desperate bid to outdo another streamer, Daniel downs ten pounds of mashed potatoes at once. The overload destroys my spleen and stomach, causing massive internal bleeding that kills me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of Daniel's very first live stream. This time, I rush out and order 20 takeout dishes before him. "This time, I'm eating first."

When I was eight months pregnant, my husband's foster sister invited me to hike a snow-covered mountain. Midway up, an avalanche hit. We were both buried. My husband rushed to the scene, but before I could utter a word, his sister accused me: "She planned this! She tricked me into coming today!" I tried desperately to explain. He didn't listen. Instead, he lashed out at me. "Sandra doesn't know any better, but you should! So what if she's blunt? Is this your petty revenge? Your pathetic life couldn't even begin to repay hers if she'd been hurt!" Then he left. Took her hand. Walked away. I screamed after him, begging him to save our baby. He didn't even glance back. Worse, he unhooked my safety harness and shoved me out of the rescue group. "Since you're so clever, find your own way down." Not long after, another avalanche hit. This time, I couldn't get back up. Three hours later, Sandra was in a car accident. She needed a blood transfusion. That's when he finally thought of me. But by then, he didn't know—I was already gone. Me, and the child I'd never hold, were still buried under the snow.

Alone and with no memories prior to age six, Allison found herself an orphan and spent the last fourteen years growing up in the slums of the Capitol City Zalaris in the Kingdom of Nimairene learning to steal and con those of status in order to survive. Unfortunately, she is caught after what appeared to have been a successful heist and is sent to Lady Pricilla's Prison for Troubled Women where she is put to work in order to learn how to be a proper lady of society. Spending her days in and out of Solitary confinement, Allison believes that she will never finish her sentence on time when she is attacked by a guard. All seems hopeless when suddenly she is saved by a Palace Guard and whisked away. It is then revealed to Allison that she is not Allison of the Slums but is, in fact, Allisara Nimair of the Kingdom Nimairene and the rightful Queen to the throne. Her life takes a turn as she goes from Prisoner to Princess in a matter of hours and the truth behind Allisara's missing memories and dark past comes to light that reveals just who her enemies truly are and that they were closer than she thought. But with the help of Skylard Blackhawk, Allisara is able to navigate her life as the next ruler and weed out those who pose a threat to her reign. Now all that is left to question is will this lost Princess return her Kingdom to its former glory and find love along the way, or will the past come to claim the life it failed to take fourteen years ago?

I'm just a wolf-less omega bitch and a fuck-up Cromwell that's descended from a dirty rogue. No wonder my pack and my own mother... think I'm the one that killed my father. But, I didn't... kill my father. I wound never kill him. He was my only friend in this pack. The only one I could relate to. I had no friends... I only had my dad. And, since I only had him... when he was gone I had no one. So, I spend my lonely hours dedicating my life to studies. I graduated early from High School with an outstanding GPA. But, even that never impressed my mother enough. So, When it came down to it... My mother didn't hesitate to accuse me of my father's death. Her hatred for me was unspoken until that moment. The moment she caught me pulling a knife out of my father's chest. It was buried in deep. And, when I got it out... I heard her horrid scream. One that was dramatic. I was forced to break eye contact from my father's corpse to see her standing on the kitchen's edge. Her hands on her cheeks. A gray and sickly color caked on her face. She could have fainted any second. "What have you done?"

Emily Harper’s life is defined by quiet struggle. Working long hours at the bank barely pays her bills, and her parents have long stopped believing she’ll ever make something of herself. Her only comfort is her kind, funny boss, Mr. Zelinsky—the one person who makes her feel seen. But everything changes one night when she returns to the bank to fetch her forgotten inhaler… and walks in on a robbery. The thief is none other than Caleb Monroe, her old high school bully and Mr. Zelinsky’s estranged son. Shock turns to chaos when Caleb forces her to help him escape, a moment that leaves her shaken and confused. The next day, Emily faces him again—this time in daylight, as her boss proudly introduces Caleb as his son. Then tragedy strikes. Mr. Zelinsky dies suddenly, and Emily’s life takes another unexpected turn when his will binds her and Caleb together by marriage to inherit his empire. Now, caught between grief, distrust, and a strange pull she can’t explain, Emily must decide if she can survive living and pretending with the man who once made her life hell. But as secrets unravel and feelings blur, one thing becomes painfully clear: Caleb isn’t the only one hiding something.

The fake daughter only sneezed. My three brothers reacted as if she were on her deathbed, crowding around her anxiously and refusing to let her out of their sight. So when she pointed her finger at me again, insisting I had shoved her into the pool, they accepted her story without a second thought. They hauled me to a deserted walk-in freezer, sealed the door behind me at -58°F, and made sure the only escape was out of reach. I screamed for my oldest brother, the CEO, to let me out. He called me a cruel attention seeker. I begged my second brother, the doctor. He told me I finally got what I deserved. I begged my third brother, the big-shot attorney. He just sneered. "You've always been jealous of Chloe. Now you pushed her into the pool when you knew she was fragile? You really are rotten. Someone like you needs to stay in there and cool off." Then, they bundled Chloe into their arms and rushed her to the hospital over a sneeze. Bit by bit, warmth seeped from my body, until it seemed like ice was flowing through my veins instead of blood. After thirty-six hours, I slipped away, lost to the cold. Three days later, Chloe returned from the hospital, and only then did my brothers remember I existed. But by then, the freezer had already claimed me.

On the day I successfully conceived through IVF, my CEO boyfriend—the sole heir to a nine-generation business empire—finally agreed to marry me. Yet, after a flight of more than ten hours, I landed only to be greeted by a public announcement of his marriage to his secretary, with journalists watching from every angle. The secretary eagerly showed off the marriage certificate, fresh off the press. "Don't worry, everyone. From now on, I'll personally supervise Mr. Lane for the rest of our lives." When the journalists spotted me, they all focused on me, hoping I'd cause a scene. However, I merely smiled and congratulated the couple. "You and Mr. Lane are perfect for each other, Ms. Quinn. I wish you both a long and happy marriage." Everyone was shocked. No one had expected such generosity from me—Harold's girlfriend of nine years. As I turned to leave, Harold darted over to defend himself with a scowl. "Leila worked day and night with me on this international project. She refused every bonus and only asked to experience the fairy-tale romance of marrying a CEO. We already agreed to divorce once the project is over. I'll make it up to you with an even bigger, better wedding." Then, his voice softened. "For the sake of our baby, don't cause trouble, okay?" With a bright smile, I slapped his hand away. "Who told you the baby's yours?"

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.