Late Night Drives Novels & Stories

At the height of my career, I became the youngest law professor in the field and married my childhood sweetheart, Daisy Reid. We were known as the "golden couple of the legal world," and in the eyes of many, we were the perfect loving couple. In the tenth year of our marriage, my mother took my son, Caleb Davis, out, and they were involved in a car accident. The driver had been speeding while intoxicated. My mother only had enough time to shield Caleb in her arms before she died on the spot. To my surprise, my wife, Daisy, appeared and sat next to the murderer, James Benton, as his defense attorney in the courtroom. "Our client was just driving normally when the deceased suddenly rushed out in an attempt to stage an accident, which ultimately led to the accident. The deceased party should bear the main responsibility for the accident." Upon hearing that, I stared at her in disbelief. Soon after, anger surged within me. My eyes bloodshot, I growled, "My mom would never stage an accident! I have a witness!" However, the ten-year-old Caleb, who was to testify as a witness, grabbed James' arm and said, "I testify that Grandma was trying to fake an accident by purposely crashing into Mr. Benton's car. Dad even tried to make me lie. I would never hurt Mr. Benton." The moment those words left his mouth, my heart sank completely.

My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him. Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad. My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place. Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

He threw her away like mere dust. But now she’s back, powerful, and elegant, she’s now the only woman he yearns for. Three years ago, Anyta was nothing more than the unwanted wife of cold, callous billionaire Everette Ashbourne. Forced into marriage by his grandma, hated for crimes she never committed, and betrayed by her step sister who has always been jealous of her. Anyta lost everything the day Everette divorced her and exiled her overseas. Exile, has now turned into destiny. Now, Anyta returns as the world’s most sought-after actress. confident, breathtaking, and powerful in ways she had never imagined she could be. She doesn’t also comes back alone, she’s back with the ultimate secret (Everett’ heir) But She’s no longer the fragile wife begging for scraps of his love. She’s the woman every man desires… including the husband who once broke her. Everette wants her back. Everette needs her back. But Anyta has only one thing to say: “It’s too late, Mr. Billionaire.”

«BOOK 2: Ex-wife's Revenge Series.» Violet escaped an arranged marriage, taking up a new Identity, to live a free life like any normal girl. When she met Clyde Crawford, she was everything he wanted, and he was her perfect reality, Until that reality shattered along with her heart. Each of his actions was a well-orchestrated lie. The man who cherished her, hated her, in fact. Broken and betrayed, Violet walked out of his life with a secret she vowed to hide from him forever. But, five years later, he stumbled upon that secret. Clyde Crawford is in for the biggest shock of his life when his Ex-wife's true identity comes to light.

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?

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.

One night was supposed to be enough. Damien Vale never does repeats. The cold-hearted CEO takes what he wants and leaves before sunrise. But when he spends one explosive night with the sharp-tongued bartender who calls him on his bullshit, the rules shatter. Now Damien shows up at the bar every single night at the same time. No explanation. No promises. Just raw, filthy need that neither of them can quit. Kai swore he’d never fall for another rich man who treats him like a dirty secret. Yet every night he finds himself waiting, aching, letting Damien push him further than he’s ever gone. One night became every night. And soon, neither of them will be able to pretend it’s still just sex.

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!

My little sister, Maya, got into a car crash. I put her in a high-end recovery center. Her injuries were bad. Progress crawled. They kept extending her treatment, one phase at a time. Early this morning, the manager called. Said the card wouldn't cover the next phase. That's when it hit me—peak season at the company. I'd been slammed, barely breathing. I hadn't topped it up in forever. I told her I'd transfer the money. She shut it down. Said I had to show up and sign in person before they'd extend anything. So after work, I rushed over. Straight into rush hour traffic. Then she called again. "Ms. Keyne, your balance hit zero three minutes ago. We're terminating services. This is a premium facility—we don't do free care. The patient tied to your account has been removed per policy."

I was the real son, finally found and brought back by my billionaire parents, only to be diagnosed with leukemia right after. The only person who matched my bone marrow was the adopted son, Doug Daniel. So my parents rushed to bring him back into the family, making him my donor. To make it up to him, they did everything they could for him. My parents handed over the inheritance. My fiancée, Moira Stevens, hovered around him every day. When the pain got so bad that I could barely stand it, my parents pointed at me and snapped, "Jay! You keep bringing up your illness. Are you really that eager to take away Doug's health?" Moira, a medical school professor, didn't hold back either. "I'm a doctor. You think I don't understand your condition? You act like you're dying every single day. You just can't stand that we're being nice to Doug." On the day of the transplant, I lay on the operating table and waited. But Moira, the one in charge of harvesting Doug's marrow, never came in. I closed my eyes and waited for death. None of them knew I had already signed up to donate my body.