Night Work Novel Novels & Stories

The city never truly slept. Even at eleven-thirty at night, New York shimmered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of the executive conference room. Thousands of lights stretched endlessly into the darkness. Cars moved like streams of gold beneath the towering buildings. And somewhere below, the rest of the world continued moving. Unaware that two people had somehow forgotten to go home. Irina rubbed her temples and closed the file in front of her. The words had begun to blur together an hour ago.

I should’ve called Chloe, vented about what an arrogant, insufferable, infuriating bastard Dominic Blackwood was. But I hadn’t. Because some small, traitorous part of me didn’t want to be talked out of this. I slid out of bed, padding barefoot to the window, tugging the curtain aside to stare down at the city below. Lights glittered against the inky sky, the streets mostly empty at this hour. Somewhere out there, he was awake. I knew it. He wasn’t the kind of man who slept. He was the kind who worked, who drank in empty rooms, who collected ghosts and mistakes like trophies.

Out of the Shadows. Josh’s POV The night air in New Orleans always carried a heaviness to it, humid thick, as if the city itself was alive and watching. I had walked these streets countless times as Alpha of the Black Moon pack, but tonight I wasn’t Alpha. Tonight I wasn’t Rissa’s mate. Tonight, I was only a man who had shattered everything he once held sacred and was clawing through shadows to get it back.

I'll talk to you all tomorrow. Sammy: Night Craig: night I got into bed but stayed awake for a long time, worrying.

Watchman tried to drag me into one of his dirty games one night. I was packing up after the day’s work. It was a few minutes past my closing hours—nine pm. They had other employees that took over from me at night until dawn. Most of the girls were strippers. I was glad my employer respected my decision of remaining a waitress. More guests walked in. The thick tobacco smell and liquor made me nauseous and dizzy, so I hastened up. I took off the apron as I prepared to have a short nap. I was already used to the noise from the bar. It helped me avoid my nightmares— I found it hard to sleep deeply. I was about slamming my door when I heard my name,

Present From October to November 2016 The night of the charity dinner had arrived, to my utter bewilderment, it was in an elegant place, an amazing place that was everything we had always been taught as glamorous, elegant and luxurious. He had no idea if he had paid for that with the money he managed to steal from the company or it was something he did at an earlier time. We didn't know anything about his background before he got his hands on this city's underworld again.

Daniel was muddled; he didn't change his clothes to wear something casual because he needed to calm his nerves with a nice cold beer, which he tried to but Addison's words still echoed in his head and hit him like a hammer; "I trusted you above all those qualified officers Daniel but what you did in return? you let me down, Now, what am I going to answer the authorities? Han! Answer me God damned. Agent Richman, you know what? You are suspended, Just leave...!" * A breeze of cold wind blew rattling the stray leaves on the cobalt street of the abandoned alley while the only source that lit up the place was the light illuminating from full moon. The moon was shining in the sky in its full glor

"Duly noted, and no snoring, I like having a peaceful night sleep." Nikolai scoffed and turned off the bedside lamp on his side, but I leaned over to switch on mine. I wasn’t ready to sleep yet. My nerves were still buzzing, and I needed something to distract me. To distract me from all this, from Nikolai and his family and my own thoughts. I reached for one of the books I’d brought with me from home. "The Housemaid" by Freida McFadden. The author that Leo and I had talked about during dinner.

Daniel worked through the night. This was not unusual for him. He had been working through nights since he was twenty-three and had discovered that the specific quality of attention available between midnight and four in the morning was different from anything the daylit hours offered. Quieter. More precise. Less contaminated by the noise of the world going about its business. He sat at his kitchen table with his laptop and three tabs open and a coffee he kept refreshing and went through everything publicly available on Pemberton Chase Associates with the methodical patience of a man who had learned that most things people believed were hidden were actually just inconveniently filed.

Oh God, now. I open one eye a chink and get an eyeful of beige duvet. Ah yes. I remember the beige duvet from last night. Clearly the ex-wife took all the White Company Egyptian cotton and he went to the nearest Linen for Divorced Men store. My head is throbbing, and after a moment the beige starts to shimmer in front of my eyes. So I close them and roll onto my back. I haven’t had a one-night stand in a long time. A looooong time. I’ve forgotten how they go. Awkward kiss? Exchange numbers? Coffee?