Adam Driver Nationality Novels & Stories

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

“Is trusting you a sin?” Hannah asked. “It wouldn't have been a sin if you were nothing but sand under my feet. You’ve always had it all—the grades, the charm, the spotlight. Teachers adored you. Boys wanted you. Even James, the only one I ever looked at like that, fell for you despite your boring look.” Her best friend’s laugh was dry. Cruel. Hannah’s heart squeezed, her breath catching in her throat. “You think you’ve won?” she said, voice shaking. “Because you slept with my husband and fed him lies?” “I don’t think, Hannah. I won.” “You didn’t win. You settled. You crawled into my leftovers and tried to wear my skin like it would turn you into something better—but it didn’t.” --- On her first wedding anniversary, Hannah Reyes was drugged—by her husband and her best friend. The betrayal shattered her world, and cost her the one thing she was holding onto: her unborn child. The next day, still lying in a hospital bed, her husband handed her divorce papers... then ordered her thrown out. Lost, bleeding, and alone, she was hit by a car. But fate wasn’t done with her yet. The driver? Matthew DeLacruz—her husband’s former friend, now bitter enemy, and a man he once scammed. And Matthew made her an offer she couldn’t ignore: "Be my vice president, and I’ll help you destroy him." What began as revenge turned into something else, something thrilling, empowering, and dangerously beautiful. And just when she thought she had nothing left to lose, Matthew made her a different offer: Marriage. Now Hannah must ask herself: Can she truly trust again? Or will this new beginning become just another ending?

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

I spent two years drowning in guilt for an accident that wasn't my fault. Two years watching my husband transform into a monster who blamed me for the paralysis a drunk driver caused. Two years sacrificing pieces of myself for forgiveness I'd never earn. And then Adrian made one request that shattered what little dignity I had left. His birthday wish: Two weeks in Italy. His two best friends. My body. He wanted me to give them what he could no longer provide. I said yes because I didn't know how else to survive his threats, his manipulation, his systematic destruction of everything I used to be. What I didn't expect was how they'd look at me when I agreed—like I was cheap, disposable, exactly as worthless as I'd always believed. Matteo Greco touched me with hands that worshipped while his words cut deep, the Italian architect whose warmth turned ice-cold the moment I knocked on his door. Kian Ashford used me like I was nothing while his grey eyes promised I could be everything, the lawyer whose control shattered the same night mine did. They broke me completely. And broke their rules together with their hatred for eachother. Because Kian isn't just a lawyer—he's a Werewolf Alpha in a three-piece suit and a racer at night. Matteo isn't just an architect—he's a Lycan Alpha hiding behind Italian charm and motorcycle leather. And somehow this completely human woman triggered something in both of them that should be impossible. Mate bonds don't lie. But neither do the species that have been enemies for centuries. A dark paranormal romance that will leave you breathless, aching, and absolutely dripping. This is not a gentle love story...this is brutal, beautiful, and will wreck you in the best possible way.

I slumped on the floor and hugged my knees into my chest. I glanced up at Blake and my eyes started to pool, looking at him. "I- I am scared. I-I am scared to have kids. I am scared to have feelings l-like this. I am scared of everything that is connected in love." My voice broadcasting sadness when I said those words and tears started streaming down my face."I have f-fear Blake. I have a fear that I don't want to encounter but they are still coming after me." I broke into sobs and I buried my face into my knees. --Ava Celestine YuA 24 years old girl, independent, strong on the outside, hard-working, reached her dreams at the age of 24, have a simple life on her own, no fairytale dream in life. What can happen when someone comes into her life that makes her feel the feeling and emotions she does not want to experience because of her fear that she hid for years? Blake Adam EcollinA 26 years old, fourth youngest billionaire in New York City, handsome, charming, a hidden billionaire who doesn't like paparazzi but still everyone loves him, rude, cold, and ruthless CEO who owns BLADE RUSH Techno. He knew that almost all the women chase after him, he isn't the one who chases her. --Is it a choice between love and fear? Which one she will she choose?Or is it a battle of love and fear? Which one will prevail?---GRAMMATICAL ERRORS- (Read at your own risk.)IG: azelea_avery

SUBMITTING TO MY STEP BROTHERS "Nicole meet your stepbrothers and .......", I didn't hear the next words when my eyes fall on the two men already seated. I found myself momentarily frozen at what I was seeing. Was i dreaming or I wasn't? What the hell is wrong with my step father’s sons. They are all f**king.... **** "Do you want it?", Before I could reply him, my gaze accidentally moved down then I saw it.....his bulge was huge even though it was flaccid. Was I turning him on? Just like I did to his brother, Alexander. My breath hitched as he stepped closer to me, his chest coming into view, closer to my face, "I think its too late to eat the cake," He rasped as I looked up. His hand extended above me but his forest green eyes held mine, they became darker as if time had stood still. Right now, I needed a saviour. I noticed that Alexander has ocean blue eyes then here is his brother with ...... my goodness! Speechless, I moved my gaze to his Adam's apple, which bobbed as he swallowed. "If the banana is all you wanted. Then have a good night step sis" He moved away, smirking and then he turned around. My eyes landed on his ass. I snapped out of quickly it then shook my head. Holy hell! I was still holding the banana in my hand in disbelief. Was that a dream?

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?

We had been married for five years, but Chuck Gorman spent more than half his time at the condo opposite the river. He claimed that his older brother, Calvin, had passed away at a young age, leaving behind his widow, who had no one to depend on, and that as Calvin's brother, he was responsible for taking care of both families. This was a Gorman family value of upholding loyalty and kinship. I had believed his words then. To help him uphold his loyalty and dignity, I tolerated it whenever he was absent during important holidays and said nothing when he split his time between his sister-in-law and me during Christmas dinner. I even had to hold back my tongue when others mocked me for being a weak woman who was willing to 'share her husband'. However, Chuck had always been gentle yet distant when he spoke to me. This continued until we were involved in an accident with several collisions. The car we were in was wrecked. As I shielded my heavily pregnant belly, I broke out in cold sweat from the pain. I kept hitting the window while shouting, "Chuck! Save the baby…" Chuck climbed out from the driver's seat and glanced at my bleeding body, only to turn away to pry open the car door of the back seat. He shielded Sandi Lemming tightly in his arms, holding her against his chest despite her suffering only minor scratches on the forehead. "Don't look, Sandi. It's okay. I'm right here." He patted her gently on the back while comforting her over and over to calm her nerves. As for me, I was stuck inside the car due to the dented car door. I realized that it was not loyalty and kinship he was practising. He was just unable to see Sandi come to harm at all.

Bella French is a peculiar girl. That is what everyone says about her. She would rather have her nose in a book, forgetting the world around her, than to actually live her life. She has an odd father who likes to tinker in the shed and her mother is dead. The way he locks himself in the building and claims to be helping the FBI, people around the town find him crazy, but Bella knows that he isn't. At school she had no friends, because she prefers to be alone. Yet that does not stop Gus Stone from bothering her. For some reason, despite girls throwing themselves at him, he only wants Bella. She dreams of getting out of the small town that they just moved to. They live on the edge of town, next to the 'Forbidden Forest' as the town calls it. She had heard the town legends and lore about entering these woods. Especially not at night. But circumstances lead her there; Where she finds a beast. Adam Prince is King of the Wolves. He is the Alpha and he has even been called a beast. He is so jaded from life that he is angry at the world and he takes it out on anyone stupid enough to be around him. Especially Bella. The way that he finds himself drawn to her infuriates him. Yet, he can not stay away from her, even as he finds himself changing to please her. Can he really be falling in love with her? Is she the one that can break his curse and end his misery?

I've always been sensitive and delicate since young. The first reaction I often exhibit whenever I run into a problem is "I wanna die". But weirdly enough, those who bully me are also the ones who get really unlucky in life. It turns out that I'm the real heiress to a wealthy family. On the first day of me rejoining said family, the fake heiress, Quinn Emerson, cries hysterically as she hollers about wanting to jump off the balcony. My parents and my older brother, Finn Emerson, keep consoling her that she's always their precious darling. Knowing that I won't have a good status in this family, I rush over to the window and scream "I don't wanna live anymore!" before jumping off the third floor. Unexpectedly, I land right on top of Finn. While I'm left unscathed, he suffers from multiple fractures and has to get hospitalized for three months. Later on, I'm admitted into an elite academy. Quinn cries about how I've been bullying her. In order to avenge her, my parents use the excuse of driving me to school just to abandon me in the middle of the highway. Feeling very aggrieved, I scream "I don't wanna live anymore!" again and turn to look for a truck to get run over. But the truck driver manages to pull off a 360-degree spin, crashing into my parents' car instead. The car does three flips in the air before landing on the ground. They almost get reduced to vegetables in that accident. On my 18th birthday-slash-coming-of-age ceremony, Quinn's urge to cause trouble is overtaking her once again. This time, she intends to accuse me of stealing the jewelry worth tens of millions of dollars that's gifted to her by our mom. But my parents, Finn, and even my grandma, who used to dote on Quinn a lot, are so frightened that they slap Quinn a dozen or so times. "Why must you cross that walking jinx?" they exclaim.