Hot Driver - S01 E16

Story 4 days ago

Hot Driver - S01 E16

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 16

Brooke Residence – Morning
Luis moved around the small kitchen, gathering his school things, the lingering warmth of last night’s proper meal still sitting comfortably in his stomach.

“Mama, I’m heading out,” he called.

Celeste sat at the table, phone in hand, staring at the screen with a tight, unreadable expression.

Ron’s number. Again. And Maeve’s, right behind it.
She let both calls ring out without answering, the way she had every single time they’d called since yesterday.

She wasn’t going back. Not today. Maybe not ever, if she could help it. She was done being struck for eating a piece of chicken, done being humiliated for simply existing in a house that clearly resented her presence.

“Not going to work today?” Luis asked, pausing by the door.
“Not today,” Celeste said simply.

“Good,” he said, and meant it entirely.

After he left, Celeste sat alone with her thoughts, turning the mystery of the money over in her mind again, the way she had for two nights straight now. It wasn’t Duane — she was certain of that much. He hadn’t been working long enough, hadn’t been paid enough, for sums like this. Someone else was behind it. Someone she couldn’t identify.

Whoever you are, she thought, staring at the growing balance on her banking app, thank you. Maybe I could even start something small. A little shop, somewhere. Something of my own, for once.

For the first time in years, the idea of a future — an actual future, not just survival day to day — didn’t feel entirely impossible.

Bennett’s Mansion – Morning
Arthur sat rigidly at the breakfast table, his newspaper untouched, his attention fixed instead on his phone.
“She’s still not answering,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “Diana, Ivory hasn’t answered a single call since last night.”

“She texted Hazel,” Diana said calmly, not looking up from her tea. “Said she wasn’t feeling well. She’s fine, Arthur.”
“Fine, or hiding something?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like this. I don’t like her being unreachable overnight. Who knows what that poor church rat has convinced her to do.”
“Arthur.”

“I’m serious, Diana. That boy has some kind of hold on her, I can feel it.”

“The only hold he has on her is patience,” Diana said dryly. “Something you could stand to learn from.”

Arthur muttered something under his breath and returned to his paper, though his eyes kept drifting back to his phone every few minutes..

Hazel breezed into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of toast on her way toward the door, phone buzzing in her hand. She glanced at the screen — an unknown number, one she vaguely recognized from a group chat she barely paid attention to — and silenced it without a second thought..

“Bye,” she called over her shoulder, heading out to school without waiting for a response, already scrolling past the missed call like it had never happened.
Ivy Fashion Empire – Morning
Ivory swept through the office like a hurricane, as always, employees scattering out of her path the moment they registered her presence.

Duane followed a step behind, dressed in one of the new shirts from his restocked wardrobe, looking sharper than usual, something Beauty was quick to notice the second he stepped into the lobby.

“New shirt,” she said, sidling up beside him with a grin. “Looking good.”.

“Thanks.”
“Free for that coffee yet?”
“Busy day,” he said, only half paying attention, his eyes tracking Ivory’s retreating figure toward the elevator. “Maybe another time.”

Beauty pouted but didn’t push, wandering off toward her own desk as the elevator doors closed.
The day stretched long and demanding — meetings back to back, a design review that ran an hour over schedule, a marketing call that left Ivory more irritated than when it started. By the time evening rolled around, both of them were running on fumes, the earlier tension from the night before simmering quietly beneath the surface of every clipped exchange.
MBS – Maeve’s Dressing Room – Evening
Maeve stood in front of her mirror, applying the final touches of her makeup with careful precision.

Beneath the long coat draped over her shoulders, she wore something deliberately, dangerously sheer — a calculated choice, designed for exactly the purpose she intended it for tonight.
Mr. Dixon held the deciding vote on the Best Designer of the Year award. And Maeve had decided, coldly and without hesitation, exactly how she intended to secure his favor.

Ron leaned in the doorway, watching her with open approval. “You look incredible.”
“I look like a woman about to win us an award,” she said flatly, checking her reflection one final time.

“Same thing.” He crossed the room and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here when you get back. Winning.”

“You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.” He kissed her once more, lingering slightly longer this time. “Go get us that award.”
She left without another word, climbing into her car, the coat cinched tight around her.
Ron watched her go from the window, satisfaction settling comfortably over his features.
His mind drifted, unbidden, to Ivory.

He wondered, sometimes, how she was doing. Whether the heartbreak had truly healed, whether she’d found someone new, whether she ever thought about him the way he occasionally — rarely, but occasionally — thought about her.
She wasn’t the first girl he’d ever dated. But she’d been the first one who’d made him feel something close to peace, before ambition and Maeve’s ambition, entangled together, had pulled him somewhere else entirely.

He shook the thought off quickly, burying it the way he always did, and turned his attention back to the numbers waiting on his desk.
Prestige High School – English Class – Morning
Ms. Carver’s voice droned steadily through the lesson, and as usual, Hazel’s attention had drifted somewhere far outside the classroom window.

“Hazel,” Ms. Carver said, calling on her sharply. “The theme of this passage?”
Hazel answered without missing a beat, her response so thorough, so unexpectedly insightful, that it went well beyond anything the assignment had actually asked for.

The classroom went momentarily silent.

Ms. Carver blinked, clearly caught off guard. “That’s… remarkably thorough, Hazel.”
Hazel just shrugged. “I don’t really need the lessons. I already know most of this.”
“Then perhaps you could try paying attention anyway, for the rest of us.”

Hazel didn’t respond, already turning back toward the window, though the corner of her mouth twitched with the faintest, most reluctant hint of a smile.

Bennett Group of Companies – Afternoon

Arthur’s phone rang mid-meeting. He excused himself briefly, stepping into the hallway.

“Tyler? What is it?”
“Sir.” Tyler’s voice was tight with barely controlled panic. “Abigail is gone. She left the house this morning, she’s not answering her phone, and I don’t know where she went.”

Arthur’s expression darkened instantly. “What do you mean, gone? What happened?”
“I don’t know, sir. I woke up and she was just — gone.”
“Find her,” Arthur said sharply. “Now. Whatever it takes.”
He ended the call, his jaw tight, already dialing security to begin the search himself.
An Undisclosed Hotel – Night
Maeve entered the hotel room she’d booked, glancing around the dim, expensive space with practiced calm, forcing down the discomfort churning beneath her composed exterior.

Mr. Dixon wasn’t there yet — the faint sound of running water from the bathroom told her he was still preparing.

She sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting the coat around her shoulders, and waited, her jaw set, her mind circling the same justification she’d repeated to herself the entire drive over.
For the company. For Ron. For beating Ivory Bennett, once and for all.

She waited, impatient, counting the minutes.

Ivory’s Private Residence – Night

The car pulled into the quiet driveway, headlights cutting briefly through the dark before Duane killed the engine.

Neither of them had spoken much on the drive back — the day had been long, exhausting, and something about the previous night still hung unresolved between them, thick and unaddressed.

Duane walked her inside, expecting to simply drop her off and leave, the way he had every other night.

But instead, once the door closed behind them, he found himself pausing.

He looked at her — really looked at her, the exhaustion evident beneath her carefully maintained composure, the faint redness still lingering around her eyes from whatever she’d cried out the night before — and something in his expression shifted.

He started moving closer.

Ivory’s breath caught. She took an instinctive step back, then another, her heart suddenly hammering against her ribs for reasons she couldn’t fully explain.

He kept coming, his eyes locked on hers, unreadable, steady, unrelenting.

She kept retreating, step by step, until her back met the edge of the couch, stopping her retreat entirely.

She had nowhere left to go.
Duane leaned in.

TBC