Billy Hargrove Car Novels & Stories

My girlfriend and I had agreed that she would come home with me for Thanksgiving to meet my parents. However, the night before the trip, she canceled on me again. My older cousin, who had never liked me, immediately started throwing sarcastic comments my way. “Five years together and she still hasn’t met your family? Maybe she never took you seriously in the first place. And honestly, a man shouldn’t think too highly of himself. You might end up raising someone else’s kid without even knowing it,” he said. I ignored him and stepped outside to get some air, but then I found that the car parked in front of the neighbor’s house looked strangely familiar. My heart skipped a beat. Could this be a surprise from my girlfriend? I was just about to call her when my cousin clicked his tongue and pointed at the car. “Still, you’ve gotta admit Liam Crossby really knows how to live. He brought home a gorgeous and successful girlfriend. You? You’ve spent your whole life losing to him.” My eyes locked onto the license plate, and my fingers froze. Then, I dialed a hidden number I hadn’t used in years. “Bring the guys. Trash the car.”

Lots of people are asking so here it is: Branston high series order - Jake, Nathan, Shane, Luke, Billy. Thank you so much for reading xxx ~~~~~~~ When his dad cheats on his mum and brings in the mistress to play happy families, Billy vows to get back at him somehow, he just has to find the right angle. When his new stepmum warns him to stay away from his pretty new stepsister, she unknowingly gives him the perfect revenge plot. Will be be able to convince the sweet and innocent Elsie to get back at his dad and stepmother? Or will he fall for her in the process and ruin everything?

Whispers in the underworld mentioned that Jason Marino, heir to the Family with its hands in the cross-continental arms trade, supposedly loved women with slim waists. Since his recent return to the country, his eyes had landed on Sonia Stewart—sworn sister to my fiancé, Andy Black. When Andy found out, he disappeared for three whole days. I finally tracked him down in the Family's club, only to overhear a conversation that shattered my world. "I'm not just going to stand by and watch Sonia marry that playboy Jason," Andy was telling his lieutenant. "On the wedding day, you need to swap Sonia's wedding car with Leona's. No one must find out!" His lieutenant thumped his chest, swearing, "No problem, boss! I'll get it done. But... What about your fiancee, Leona?" Andy let out a confident laugh, as if he were in control of everything. "I'm the Don's hand-picked Consigliere. Jason knows Leona belongs to me, so he won't lay a finger on her. Once I've slept with Sonia, he'll have to give up on her. After that, we'll just send someone to pick Leona up. She won't suspect a thing. Instead, she'll be scared and trembling… Pathetic but adorable nonetheless. She'll come running right back to my arms!" Every word was like a bullet leaving holes in my heart, every tone tearing it apart. I stumbled away as fast as I could, praying they wouldn't hear the sound of my heart breaking. When Andy tried to pick me up according to his plan later on, he broke down.

In my last international car racing championship, the front tire of my car suddenly burst, causing the car to roll over. The cars behind me collided with me one by one. After 99 times, I was unrecognizable from the impacts. Just as I reached out to my boyfriend for help by instinct, he kicked me away, my body covered in blood and flesh. “Don't dirty my newly tailored clothes today.” He turned around, picked up the champion who had just crossed the finish line, and spun her around, smiling and saying: “Sharon, only the championship trophy is worthy of you. I will remove all obstacles for you.” Blood stained my entire body. Watching the two of them embrace as the sun set, I felt numb and desperate. What he didn't know was that among these red stains was the child who had just come into this world. At that moment, I gave up on continuing to love him.

On the one-year anniversary of the company's public listing, my wife, Susan Lynn, publicly announced that she was gifting a supercar worth millions of dollars to her childhood friend, Charles Baker. Charles, with his arm around her shoulder, raised his glass and said, "Thank you, Susan. Here's a toast to our friendship!" I let out a derisive laugh and walked away. Susan, feeling upset, chased after me, shouting, "Angus, what's your problem? What's wrong with me giving the top salesperson a supercar? You're just a useless waste of space, and you still dare to throw a tantrum!"

My grandfather, the company’s chairman, had an unmistakable obsession with pink. Not only had he decorated his entire house in soft rosy hues, but he even had his newly purchased Rimac Nevera repainted in blush pink. I was home for the summer. On the day he got his new car, he excitedly asked me to drive him to work. We had just entered the underground parking garage when a black Rolls-Royce suddenly blared its horn and sped up to cut in front of me. It then slammed on the brakes without warning. Unable to react in time, I crashed straight into it. The driver lowered his window and cursed at me. His face was twisted with arrogance. “Are you blind? Vixen, can’t you drive?” Swallowing my anger, I retorted, “You were the one who deliberately cut me off. How can you twist this around and blame me?” He let out a mocking snort. “You women in pink cars are hopeless drivers, yet you still blame others? You had it coming. You must be a new intern. Let me tell you something. You’ve just hit the chairman’s car. Get ready to go bankrupt!” My grandfather and I exchanged a baffled look. If that was the chairman’s car, what were we in?

I receive a random WhatsApp message from Charlotte Ellis, a neighbor living downstairs, at 11:00 pm. "Olivia, do you drive to the city center every morning?" I've just gotten to know Charlotte, so I just reply, "Yes." Originally, I thought this is just small talk. But Charlotte is quick to send me a long audio message. "That's wonderful news! My husband is on a business trip lately, so I'm worried that I don't have anyone to send me to work! "From now on, you have to wait for me in your car at 8:00 am. Then, you can drop me off at my company." I frown immediately. "That's really inconvenient for me." My phone screen begins flickering all of a sudden. It turns out that Charlotte has started a voice call with me. "C'mon, Olivia! We're all neighbors here! So what if you have to make a detour of a few miles or so? Since you're sending me to work, I can help pass the time by chatting with you and alleviating your boredom! Besides, it'll be a waste of your front passenger seat, seeing as it's left empty and all!"

During my dad's funeral procession, the hearse grinds to a halt when a wedding convoy blocks its way. I get out of my car and try to negotiate with the groom, only for him to grab a brick and smash it right into my head. "Who the hell do you think you are for blocking my way? Do you have any idea who I'm marrying?" In fact, the groom has the nerve to stomp down on the gas pedal and crash into the hearse, sending it—and my dad's body—flipping over the road. "What do you mean 'respect the dead'? As if! My wife is the chairwoman of Nexora Group! You should be honored that you get to make way for her!" But the thing is, Nexora Group is my family's company. I turn to look at the bride depicted on the wedding banner. That woman is Josephine Thornton, my wife who's supposed to be on an overseas business trip right now! So, I place a phone call and have Josephine dismissed from her job. This time, I'd like to see what Josephine and her new "husband" can do to make it up to my dad, a national hero who devoted his life to the country!

Three years married to Victor, the Don, and as far as New York was concerned, we were untouchable. Until my own car was in the shop, so I took his daily driver from the garage. On the way, I activated the car's smart system and said, "Navigate home." But the screen pinpointed a place I had never seen before — a villa in the suburbs. Then, a sugary-sweet voice floated from the speakers: "Okay! Setting course for Victor and Mia's secret castle." My stomach dropped. Who was Mia? And what secret castle? Without a second thought, I dialed his number. "The home address is set to some strange place." He just laughed it off. "Oh, that. One of my guys' car broke down the other day. I let him use mine to drop someone off." "Okay, no problem," I said, smiling into the phone. I ended the call and pulled up the navigation history. That villa address was listed seventeen times, every single one on a day Victor was supposedly "out of town on business." I fired up the engine and drove.

Just after stepping out of the shower, I received a private message from my so-called uncle, Hank Shephard—a distant relative I barely ever spoke to. "Francis, that new car you posted looks impressive. Perfect for William's wedding!" I hadn't even figured out how to reply to that out-of-nowhere comment when another message popped up. "Your cousin William is getting married next month. Just treat your car as his wedding gift." The entitlement in his tone made my head hurt. I didn't bother arguing and closed the chat window. Apparently, he did not think there was anything wrong with what he had said. Messages kept coming. "Don't worry, your uncle won't let you suffer a loss. "When it's your turn to get married, I'll have William drive that car as your lead wedding car. It'll make you look good." I stared at the screen in silence. That was the moment I realized—Some people don't just feel entitled to your belongings. They believe your life exists to serve theirs.