Late Night Drives

Serena Judd is a mess when she's taken to the hospital after being harassed by a freak. As she waits in the corridor for her turn to see the doctor, she sees Justin Farrow with his arm around a young woman. He's coaxing her gently. With a raspy voice, Serena looks at Justin, the guy she has been on and off with for years. "Didn’t you get my text?" "It's Candice's birthday, so I can't upset her. Besides, who knows whether you actually ran into a freak?" He frowns, looking disdainful. "Were you violated?" Serena's blood runs cold at his words. She tenders her resignation the following day, but Justin isn't bothered. He says, "She's more obedient than a dog. She'll come back to beg for forgiveness without me even saying anything." This time, however, Serena leaves without hesitation. … Half a year passes. Justin sits in his car and dials a number he's already committed to memory. As soon as the call is connected, he says tensely, "I miss you." All he hears is a snort. "Why are you disturbing me in the middle of the night with a love confession, Mr. Farrow? You should be asleep." Justin snarls, "Where's Rina? Tell her to answer the phone!" Wilson Quade looks at Serena, who's lying beneath him, her eyes gleaming with desire. He smirks devilishly and says, "We're busy, Mr. Farrow."

I was the real heiress in a case of a mistaken identity. Three months after my return, the imposter heiress disappeared.   My brother, Caleb Carter, accused me of jealousy, believing I had driven the fake heiress away. The disappointed look on my parents’ faces revealed their true thoughts.   I was confined in the basement, subjected to daily torture.   Even after my death, my family donated my brain to a research institution.   Later, I watched from heaven as my family broke down upon watching my memories.

Lucia gave her heart to a family that was never truly hers. She raised his kids, rebuilt his company, and loved a man who chose someone else the moment she returned. So she walked away. Now the stepmother they took for granted is the woman the powerful CEO regrets losing. “I didn’t leave because I was weak… I left because they didn’t deserve me.”

I had been hanging around with Mark Anderson for eight years. People in his circle said I had become addicted to loving him.To what extent had I become addicted?I had become addicted to the point where I didn't hesitate to get rid of any woman who got close to him.In the end, Mark sent me to rehab.Others went to rehab for smoking, drinking, or gaming addiction.But I went to rehab for Mark.Later, I did successfully overcome my addiction to him, but he expressed regret over it.

When Scott Williams broke Cassie Newman’s heart, the last thing she wanted was to be the lady everyone talked about. The world-famous wedding planner who helped couples live their dream marriages, yet couldn’t save her own. The unfortunate woman who became the tabloids favorite gossip. She disappeared, shocking everyone, ran to a new city, changed her name, and started over, living her life, trying to bury the horrible past as she enjoyed her new marriage and new family. But just when things seemed perfect, Scott returned, acting as if he would die if she didn’t give him another chance. Now, he is determined to ruin Cassie Newman’s marriage. But will she let him?

Samantha Granger's daughter, Celine Hamley, was critically ill and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant from her biological father, Calvin Hamley. But the man Celine called Dad was busy building a castle for his first love's daughter and lighting up the entire city with fireworks for her birthday. Samantha made call after call, but when Calvin finally picked up, he said, "I'm busy." Then the phone went dead. In the end, Celine's hand went cold, and she died. Calvin didn't even see her one last time. Samantha walked out of the funeral home with an urn. Every LED screen downtown was playing a birthday celebration video. The three people who had trampled over Celine's life were smiling, singing the birthday song, and dreaming aloud of a beautiful future. Samantha had once loved Calvin with everything she had. Now, she hated him just as much.

3 years after getting married, I am still a virgin. "Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

My cousin, Kaylee Langford, pushes me down the ski slope when there's an avalanche. My boyfriend, Atlas Ferguson, lifts her into his arms and leaves. He seems to have forgotten that I'm buried underneath the snow mountain. He leaves me stranded at the valley for seven days. He's furious when he finds me. "You should be glad nothing went wrong with Kaylee's arms. Otherwise, the only way you could atone would be to die on this mountain! Our wedding is canceled—we'll have it once you realize what you did wrong." He thinks I'll cry or kick up a fuss, but I merely nod and say, "Okay." He doesn't know that I've made a deal with the Moon Goddess. In six days, I'll be giving up the things that mean most to me—my love for Atlas and my memories of him. Once that happens, I'll forget everything about him and start afresh somewhere new. What does a wedding matter when the Ember Sloane who loved him is now dead?

My husband, Henry Luther, never loved me.He's always loved my younger sister instead.I chose to step aside and fulfill their love.But no one believed my sincere sacrifice..."Are you trying to act pitiful again?" Henry stared at me with a hostile look in his eyes.