Hot Driver - S01 E18

Story 4 days ago

Hot Driver - S01 E18

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 18

Brooke Residence – Same Morning

Celeste sat at the kitchen table, a notepad in front of her, sketching out rough ideas for the small business she’d been dreaming about for two days straight — maybe knitting or food stall, maybe, something simple, something hers.

Her phone buzzed against the table.

She glanced at it absently, then did a double take, snatching it up and staring at the screen.

A million naira. Deposited just moments ago.

She screamed

“holy ghost!!” — a full, unrestrained sound of pure shock — and promptly fainted, sliding out of her chair and collapsing dramatically onto the kitchen floor, passing out, the notepad fluttering down beside her.

Prestige High School – Cafeteria – Noon

Hazel, Penelope, and Mitchell sat together at their usual table, trays half-finished, when Mitchell finally brought it up.
“I called you yesterday,” he said, glancing at Hazel. “You didn’t pick up.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” Hazel admitted. “Unknown number. I don’t usually answer those.”

“You could have called back.”

“I could have. I didn’t think of it.”

“Convenient,” Emilia’s voice cut in from behind them, sharp and smug as she sauntered past with her tray. “Guess some people just aren’t that important to her.”

“Nobody asked you, Emilia,” Hazel said flatly, not even bothering to look up.

“I’m just saying. If someone called me, I’d call back immediately. Unless, of course, I didn’t care that much to begin with.”

“Go away,” Penelope said, waving a hand dismissively. “This conversation doesn’t involve you.”

Emilia smirked and continued on toward her own table, tossing one last smug glance over her shoulder before she went.

Mitchell watched her go, then turned back to Hazel. “Save my number this time. Please.”

“I will,” Hazel said, and this time, she actually meant it, pulling out her phone right there at the table to add his contact properly.

MBS – Ron’s Office – Morning
Ron and Maeve sat together on the leather couch, champagne glasses raised, clinking together in premature celebration.

“To winning,” Ron said, grinning. “To finally beating Ivy Fashion Empire, once and for all.”

“To winning,” Maeve echoed, though something flickered briefly behind her eyes before she masked it with a practiced smile.

They drank, laughing, already imagining the headlines, the award ceremony, the look on Ivory’s face when she realized she’d lost.

Neither of them noticed — or cared to notice — the way Maeve’s hand trembled slightly around the stem of her glass.

Ivy Fashion Empire – Morning

Ivory arrived late, which only worsened her mood considerably.

She swept through the lobby, sharp-eyed and ruthless, correcting three separate employees within the first two minutes of walking through the door — a crooked name tag, an untucked shirt, a hairstyle she deemed “unacceptable for the brand.”

Then her gaze landed on Beauty, standing near the reception desk in a skirt significantly shorter than company policy technically allowed.
Ivory stopped directly in front of her, eyes narrowing. “What is that shit you’re puttig on?”

“My skirt, Ms. Bennett?”

“I can see it’s a skirt. I’m asking what it’s doing on my employee at my company, looking like that.”

Beauty’s face flushed. “I— it’s within regulation length, I checked—”

“Wear that again tomorrow,” Ivory said coldly, “and you’re fired. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Bennett.”

Ivory swept past her toward the elevator without another word, leaving Beauty standing there, mortified, smoothing down her skirt self-consciously.

Later – Lobby

Beauty found Duane during his afternoon break, still slightly flustered from her earlier encounter with Ivory.

“Does this look okay, good on me?” she asked, gesturing to the skirt, she even pulled it up a lil bit

“Looks good,” Duane said, taking his eyes away from her exposed laps “but make it longer”

Beauty’s face lit up, cheeks going pink at the simple compliment. “Thank you. So, um — are you free tonight? I was thinking we could go catch a movie. My treat.”

Duane considered it for a moment, then shrugged easily. “Sure. Why not.”

“Really?”

“Really. What time?”

“Seven?”

“Seven works.”

Beauty practically floated away afterward, already texting her friends the good news.

Rodriguez Mansion – Afternoon
Tyler sat alone in his study, head in his hands, when a sharp knock sounded at his front door.

He answered it himself, finding an unfamiliar man in a sharp suit standing on his doorstep, an envelope extended toward him.

“Mr. Rodriguez? This is from the Bennett family.”

Tyler took the envelope with trembling hands, and the moment he opened it and saw the words printed across the top — divorce papers — his knees nearly gave out beneath him.

“No,” he whispered, then louder, desperate. “No, no, this isn’t— I love her. I love my wife. This is a mistake—”
The man simply nodded politely and walked away, leaving Tyler standing in his doorway, papers clutched to his chest, sobbing openly into the empty afternoon air.

An Undisclosed Hotel – Afternoon

Abigail sat curled on the edge of a hotel bed, having just finished a quiet lunch alone, fighting back tears that kept threatening to spill despite her best efforts to hold them in.

Is this what heartbreak feels like? she wondered.

Ivory had warned her, once, years ago. All men are the same, Abigail. Don’t trust any of them completely.

She hadn’t listened. Couldn’t have listened, really — not when it had felt like love at first sight the moment she’d met Tyler, arranged marriage or not, not when every day since had felt like proof that her sister’s bitterness was simply that: bitterness, not wisdom.

Now she wasn’t so sure anymore.

She wiped her eyes furiously, refusing to let the tears fully fall, and stared out the window instead, watching the city move on obliviously below her.

Bennett Group of Companies – Afternoon

Arthur had finally called off the search team after Ivory confirmed Abigail’s safety, though the relief did little to fully settle the tension still simmering in the house.

Diana sat across from him in his office, arms crossed. “I’m still worried, Arthur. Whatever Tyler did to make her run like that — God only knows.”

“She’s fine. She said she’s fine.”

“She’s a baby, Arthur. Always has been. The moment things get difficult, she folds. She cries. She runs.” Diana sighed. “I just hope wherever she is, she’s actually handling this and not just hiding from it.”

Arthur didn’t respond immediately, his own worry evident beneath the surface calm he tried to project.
“She’ll come home when she’s ready,” he finally said. “She always does.”

Diana wasn’t entirely convinced, but she let the matter rest for now.

Ivy Fashion Empire – Evening

Duane found a spare moment near the end of the day to text Beauty a quick confirmation.

Still on for 7. I’ll meet you at the cinema.

She responded almost instantly with an excited string of emojis that made him huff out a small laugh despite himself.

By the time Ivory finished up for the day, he drove her home in relative silence, the earlier tension between them from her sister’s disappearance and the awkward “hair-fixing” incident still lingering faintly in the air, unaddressed.

He dropped her off, walked her to the door out of habit more than obligation, and turned to leave, checking his watch as he went.
7:20. He was already running late.
He was halfway to his car when Ivory suddenly stepped in front of the door, blocking his path entirely, closing it firmly behind her and holding the key clenched tight in her fist.

“Don’t go,” she said.
Duane blinked, genuinely confused. “Excuse me?”

“I said don’t go.”
He glanced at the wall clock visible through the window behind her. 7:20 exactly. Beauty was undoubtedly already waiting for him, checking her phone every few seconds, wondering where he was.

“Ivory, I have somewhere to be—”

“I don’t care.” Her chin lifted, voice hardening into something commanding, something that brooked absolutely no argument. “It’s an order. Don’t go. Stay with me. Make us dinner.”

TBC.