
Submitting to My Father's Driver
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Aria Bennett is the perfect daughter, a decoration in her father's massive business empire. But for one night, she decides to break every rule. At a secret underground club, she meets Adrian, a man who knows exactly how to please her and awaken desires she never knew she had. They promise each other nothing but one night of pleasure and desire.
But when Aria wakes up to find him gone, leaving only a cold note behind, she thinks the fantasy is over. That is, until she walks downstairs the next morning to see the same man standing in her driveway.
Now, the man who knows her darkest secrets is her father's new driver. Forced to face him every day while pretending they are strangers, Aria is caught in a suffocating game of cat and mouse.
Adrian on the other hand is dangerous, cold, and hiding a secret that could destroy her father's empire.
And the closer she gets to him, the more she risks losing everything, including herself.
Submitting to My Father's Driver Chapter 1
ARIA POV
"Smile, Aria." My dad said quietly. The warning in his made my spine stiffen. I've heard that tone my entire life.
Around us were ballroom decorations, the hall and lounge were filled with wealthy guests, expensive champagne, and fake laughter.
Everyone looked happy.
It was the perfect ball party.
But standing beside my father, forced to greet people I barely knew, made me feel like a decoration placed beside him.
My smile stayed on my lips, but my fingers kept tightening around the champagne glass.
I found myself staring at the ballroom doors again... wondering how long before I could leave.
I kept the smile on my face anyway. Years of practice made it easy.
"Mr Bennett, your daughter is stunning tonight," one of his business partners said his eyes lingering a beat too long.
"Pervert," I muttured under my breath.
"Thank you," my father replied grinning, resting his firm hand on my shoulder. "Aria understands how important these events are, and she makes sure to dress her best."
Important.
That was his favourite word to use.
Everything in my life was important to him, my school, my friends, even the way I dressed, even who I dated.
Everything except what I actually wanted.
I scowl at the thought of how he stopped me from joining the dance crew in my school. Insisting it is 'noble like' and I would end up worthless like my elder sister who absconds with her boyfriend after much pressure from him.
She grew tired of being told what to do and being Daddy's pet.
Sometimes I wondered what my life would look like if I made even one decision for myself. If I decide to follow my elder sister's footsteps.
But I know it wouldn't be as easy as it looks.
Just as another guest approached us, I heard a familiar whisper beside me.
"God, you look like you're held hostage."
I turned slightly and saw Ashley, my best friend, holding a glass of champagne with a mischievous smile.
I felt relieved instantly at the sight of her. Ashley was also dragged here by her father. However, the difference between mine and hers was that he made sure she was genuinely happy and had a good time.
I stared at her wild curls and that tattoo peeking from her sleeve, something her dad actually encouraged. While mine must even see a single dot on me
"You have no idea," I muttered cenching my fist behind my back to hide any hint of frustration.
Ashley leaned closer, lowering her voice. "I sure do. You look like you want to run away from here," she added, grinning.
"Of course. Any chance I get I would."
"Then escape with me for a day." She muttered in a low voice.
I frowned. "Escape where?"
Her smile widened.
"The kind of place your father would lose his mind if he knew you were there."
I stared at her like a lost puppy.
Ashley lifted her glass and took a slow sip. "I'm serious," she said. "Let's get out of here, the event is getting boring anyway."
I glanced at my father. He was already having a deep conversation with another group of businessmen, laughing loudly like he owned the room.
Which, technically, he did.
"You know, he'll notice if I disappear," I said.
Ashley rolled her eyes. "Please. Your father is too busy impressing his partners to realise his daughter vanished. Besides, it's dark, he wouldn't even notice. He would think you've gone back home."
She leaned closer. "Besides... I know somewhere far more interesting than this boring ballroom."
I raised an eyebrow. "Interesting how?"
Her smile turned darker. "Dangerously interesting."
That should have been enough to make me say no. Because I know Ashley's definition of dangerous isnʼt something good.
My father had spent my entire life warning me about dangerous places and dangerous people.
But standing there in this suffocating dress, smiling at strangers while my father paraded me around like part of his business empire...
Danger suddenly sounded appealing.
"What kind of place are we talking about?" I asked with more interest.
Ashley glanced around making sure no one was listening.
Then she lowered her voice even further. "A private club."
I frowned. "That doesn't sound very shocking, exciting or dangerous."
"Oh," she gasped still smiling. "It's not the normal kind of club".
The way she said it made something tighten in my chest.
"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously.
Ashley leaned closer until her lips were almost touching my ear.
"The kind of place you would lose your cool when you see."
I stared at her. "That sounds like a terrible idea."
Her grin widened.
"Exactly."
Before I could respond, she grabbed my hand and tugged me gently.
"Come on. One night of freedom won't kill you. You've never truly experienced what is called."
I hesitated, staring at my father.
Across the room, he threw his head back in laughter as someone praised his latest business deal.
He didn't even glance in my direction. It's like he even forgot I was here with him.
For a moment, something rebellious sparked inside me.
Maybe Ashley was right, maybe I deserved one night that wasn't controlled by my father.
I exhaled slowly. "Fine," I muttered.
Ashley's eyes lit up. "Perfect."
She slipped her arm through mine and guided me toward the exit.
Ashley and I move through the side door of the ballroom, slipping past guards and curious guests.
The city air hits me, and I inhale loudly taking in the air. For the first time tonight, I can breathe.
Ashley grins. "See? Much better out here. Come on, the fun really begins."
I hesitate, looking back at the glittering ballroom. My father is still laughing, shaking hands, unaware I've escaped.
"Are you sure this place is... safe?" I whisper.
Ashley smirks. "Safe? Probably not. But it's the kind of place your father would lose his mind over. And trust me, you'll love it."
My heart thunders with a mixture of fear and excitement. Maybe I need this... one night to be mine.
The door shut behind us with a heavy thud, cutting off the fake laughter and clinking glasses from the ballroom. Suddenly, the air felt different, it was cooler. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat.
The ride to the place was short. Immediately we got out of the car, and Ashley squeezed my arm. "Breathe, Aria. You're okay."
We walked down a short, dark passage. Red and gold lights glowed softly from the wall making it scream danger. My heels clicked on the concrete floor. Each step made me rethink my action.
Then the passage opened into a huge room.
It was dark, warm and dangerous. Chains hung from the ceiling, catching the light and glittering like stars. Low music filled the air. Soft moans and loud gasps floated around us, and every sound hit me.
My skin prickled. My nipples tightened against the inside of my dress before I could stop them.
To the left, a naked woman was tied to a big wooden X on the wall. Her arms and legs were spread wide, her wrists and ankles locked in thick black cuffs. Her pink dripping pussy was on display for everyone to see.
A man stood behind her, dragging a soft leather whip slowly across her bare back. The tails brushed her skin softly she shivered.
Then the whip landed on her back. Not too hard, but enough to make her gasp loudly and arch her back. Her mouth opened in a silent cry that turned into a low, shaky moan.
Red lines spread across her skin. She looked... lost in it. Like the sting was melting into something sweet deep inside her.
I pressed my thighs together without thinking. A warm feeling spread across my lower belly.
Ashley whispered, "You feel that?"
I couldn't answer. My mouth was dry.
Next to them was a bench. A man lay across it, naked from the waist down, his wrists and ankles tied down. A woman in shiny black boots stood beside him. She rubbed slow circles on his ass with her palm, she was gentle, almost kind, then lifted a wide leather paddle.
Smack.
His whole body jerked. A red handprint appeared instantly. He groaned deep in his throat, his hips moved against the bench like he couldn't help it.
She leaned down, her lips close to his ear, whispering something I couldn't hear. His cock hardened instantly and began to leak with precum. She smiled, then smacked him again.
"Harder." He cried out this, a raw, needy sound that made heat flood between my legs.
I felt myself get wet, just from watching. My breath came short, my hands shook a little.
Everywhere I looked, people were touching, tasting, hurting, soothing themselves.
Ahead of me a man knelt between a woman's thighs spread wide on a couch, she was blindfolded, her hands tied behind him. She rode his face slowly, grinding down while he flicked her desperately.
Her fingers twisted in his hair, pulling it hard. His muffled moans vibrated against her. She threw her head back and came with a sharp cry that echoed through the red room.
My whole body felt too hot, and my clit throbbed with every second. I wanted to squeeze my legs together harder, but I was afraid I'd moan if I did.
Ashley leaned in, her lips brushing my ear. Her breath was warm and still smelled faintly of champagne.
"Still think this is a bad idea?" she asked, her voice husky.
I swallowed. My voice came out small and shaky. "I... I can't think straight."
She laughed softly. "Good. That means it's working."
I dragged my eyes away from the scene in front of me, trying to calm my racing heart. The room felt too hot, too loud, and too intense.
And yet I couldn't stop looking. Then suddenly, the music lowered, but not completely. Just enough that people started shifting slightly.
The change was subtle, but noticeable.
A few heads turned toward the entrance of the room.
Some moved aside, like they were making space. I frowned, following their gaze.
A tall man stepped into the room, he wasn't dressed like the others.
He has no mask or leather.
Just black pants, a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, and the quiet confidence of someone who didn't need to prove anything.
He walked slowly through the crowd.
People greeted him with nods, and some stepped aside immediately. Others watched him with something close to respect, or fear.
My stomach tightened.
"Who is that?" I whispered.
Ashley didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gave a low chuckle.
"Oh wow," she murmured. "You really picked a night."
I looked at her, confused. "What does that mean?"
She leaned closer to my ear againn. "That," she said softly, "is the most feared and respected dominant in this club. Good with making his submissive feel both pain and pleasure."
My eyes snapped back to him. As if he felt it, the man suddenly stopped walking.
He lifted his head slowly.
Our eyes met across the crowded room. And for a second, everything around us disappeared.
His gaze moved slowly over my face... his eyes held an unreadable expression.
My heart slammed harder inside me.
I had the strange feeling that he could see everything.
The nerves, the curiosity, the heat still burning under my skin, the drip between my tigh.
Then, slowly he lifted the corner of his mouth into a smirk.
And he started walking toward me.
Continue Reading
Submitting to My Father's Driver of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

7.8
Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library.
But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor.
"It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting."
He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case."
To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend.
That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery.
When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused.
"Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you."
For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes.
He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game.
The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold.
When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract.
She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent.
This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life.

8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.

9.2
I woke up suffocating in the dark, only to find my mind trapped inside a tiny, plump, and entirely uncoordinated body.
A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my brain, announcing that I was dead in my original world and had transmigrated into a corporate revenge novel as the six-month-old illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, the story's ruthless villain.
The system mercilessly outlined my doomed fate. Tonight, my cold-blooded father would abandon me to a state orphanage. By age two, he would officially sign my rights away, leaving me to die miserably at the hands of human traffickers. Outside my nursery, I could hear his terrifying footsteps approaching, his voice devoid of any human warmth as he debated throwing me out like garbage. I was completely helpless, trapped in a baby's body, staring up at a man who looked at me with pure, visceral disgust.
Why did I have to be reborn as the tragic cannon fodder of a tyrant destined to put a bullet in his own head? How was I supposed to win over a severe germaphobe when my unequipped infant reflexes made me literally pee and vomit all over his pristine Tom Ford suits?
"Your ultimate mission is to prevent Edward McClure's self-destruction. Step one: Survive tonight's abandonment crisis."
Hearing the system's terrifying ultimatum, I swallowed my adult panic, forced a pool of pitiful tears into my large eyes, and reached my chubby little hands toward the monster.

7.9
In my past life, I was the naive surrogate who fell desperately in love with Karson King, an untouchable Wall Street billionaire.
I thought my blind devotion would earn me a place in his family. Instead, his cruel mother forced me to sign away my parental rights to my three-year-old daughter.
I was locked in a dark, freezing basement. I watched helplessly as his arrogant relatives tormented my child, pushing her down a flight of marble stairs and shattering her tiny arm.
When we finally died in a horrific car crash, my face covered in blood amidst the shattered glass, Karson didn't shed a single tear. To him, my death was just the convenient erasure of a cheap mistake.
I sacrificed my dignity for his approval, but they treated us worse than stray dogs. Why did my innocent daughter have to pay the ultimate price for their ruthless arrogance?
Opening my eyes again, the harsh glare of a massive crystal chandelier pierced my vision. I was back in the grand foyer of the King estate, exactly five years ago.
"Sign it. You are nothing but a gold digger."
My soon-to-be mother-in-law slammed the thick legal contract onto the marble table, demanding I give up my daughter.
This time, the paralyzing fear evaporated, replaced by absolute, icy clarity.
I didn't cower. I picked up the pen, looked right at the billionaire who despised me, and prepared to manipulate his entire empire.

9.4
Dorene survived a terrifying night with a bleeding, dangerous intruder in her hotel penthouse, only to receive a far more devastating blow the next morning.
A black and gold envelope arrived. It was an engagement invitation. Her boyfriend of seven years, Kadyn, was marrying her sweet, innocent best friend, Dolly.
Refusing to hide, Dorene crashed the gala in a blood-red gown. But Dolly was ready. Grabbing Dorene's wrists, Dolly purposely threw herself backward into a tower of champagne glasses, shrieking about her stomach and her unborn baby.
"If anything happens to Dolly or my child, I swear to God, I will destroy you!"
Kadyn roared, holding the weeping Dolly in the broken glass. He didn't ask a single question. He branded Dorene a jealous monster. To completely break her dignity, he publicly handed her over to the city's most notorious, sleazy playboy just to appease Dolly's fake tears.
"Give him a shot," Kadyn told her coldly.
Seven years of love were ground into the marble floor. She was framed, publicly humiliated, and discarded like trash by the two people she trusted most.
Dorene didn't shed a single tear. She gave them a smile of pure, freezing mockery and walked out of the gilded cage into the freezing Manhattan night. She didn't know that as she left, the lethal, blood-stained man from her penthouse was watching from the shadows, ready to help her burn their world to the ground.

7.5
I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Ignatz.
But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell.
He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Everleigh. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her career couldn't handle the scandal.
When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately.
"Everleigh is the woman I love," he said. "Finding out you're pregnant with my child would destroy her."
He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility.
He knew. And he still sent me.
I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Ignatz and Everleigh were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach.
My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years.
"Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm ready to come home."











