Hot Driver - S01 E54

Story 1 week ago

Hot Driver - S01 E54

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 54

—

{Alice’s Private Residence}

The mansion sat tucked behind tall iron gates on the outskirts of the city, a sprawling, ultra-modern estate of glass and pale stone, floor-to-ceiling windows offering sweeping views of manicured gardens below. Inside, marble floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers, every room curated with the kind of cold, deliberate luxury that spoke less of warmth and more of wealth accumulated through decades of calculated decisions.

Alice sat submerged in a large marble tub, steam curling up around her, a glass of wine balanced on the edge within easy reach, eyes closed in practiced relaxation.

Her phone buzzed on the small table beside the tub. She reached for it lazily, expecting nothing important.

The name on the screen read: C_Dawg.

Her whole body went rigid.

C_Dawg: I know you’re in Creston. I want to see my daughter.

Alice’s hand trembled slightly as she stared at the message, her earlier calm evaporating instantly, replaced by something tight and fearful behind her carefully composed features. She did hid Maeve well that nobody would suspect she’s her daughter. where she came from, people thought she’s childless. Maeve’s dad doesn’t even know his daughter is Maeve and he musn’t know. He will surely know Maeve but he doesn’t know she’s his daughter.

She read it twice more, jaw clenched, before setting the phone face-down on the table without responding, sinking further into the water as if it could somehow hide her from whatever this message truly meant.

—

{Abigail’s Mansion – The Next Morning}

Abigail allowed her maids to handle breakfast for once, propping her phone against a stack of books on the kitchen counter as she FaceTimed with Tyler.

“You really don’t have to cook today,” Tyler said through the screen, his voice warm with concern. “Let them handle it. You need to rest more, dearie.”

“I know, I know,” Abigail said, laughing softly. “I’m letting them, see? I’m being good.”

“Good girl,” Tyler teased.

“I want to come over today,” Abigail said suddenly, something eager creeping into her voice. “To your place. I miss it there.”

Tyler’s face lit up on the screen. “I’d love that. I’ll be here waiting. Come whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll head over after lunch.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” he said, and she laughed, blowing him a kiss before ending the call, already looking forward to the afternoon ahead.

—

{Golden High – Morning}

Luis walked through the courtyard, nearly colliding with someone rounding the corner too quickly, and stopped himself just in time.

Princess stood there, composed, unbothered, extending a hand toward him with a small, polished smile.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” she said. “I’m Princess.”

“Luis,” he said, taking her hand out of politeness.

She held onto it a beat longer than necessary, her smile lingering, before finally releasing him. He gave a small, awkward nod and continued on his way, slightly puzzled by the interaction.

Moments later, Hazel came running toward him, breathless and grinning.

“Morning!” she said, and before he could respond, she’d already pressed a quick, light kiss to his cheek and darted off toward her first class, laughing over her shoulder as she went.

Luis stood there, hand drifting unconsciously to his cheek, staring after her.

“Bro.” Jason appeared beside him, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the classroom. “You’re doing the staring thing again. Let’s go.”

—

{Prestige High School – Same Morning}

Sadie walked through the front gates for the first time in weeks, her stomach twisted into knots the entire way.

She hadn’t spoken to Emilia since the day of Hazel’s fall, hadn’t been able to look her in the eye, the guilt eating away at her steadily until it had become unbearable to carry alone.

I have to report this, she thought, watching Penelope and Mitchell laughing together across the courtyard, completely unaware of what she and Emilia had actually done. They’re going to hate me.

Everyone’s going to hate me.

But it has to come out eventually, she told herself, steeling her resolve. I can’t keep carrying this.

She kept walking, avoiding Emilia’s eyes entirely as she passed her in the hallway, already planning her next move.

—

{Bennett Group of Companies – Morning}

Arthur sat across from Diana in his office, both of them practically vibrating with barely contained excitement.

“He said yes,” Diana said again, still seemingly unable to fully process it. “Graham Hale actually said yes.”

Mr. Graham Hale — the richest man in Canada, owner of one of the largest business conglomerates in the world — had formally agreed to a partnership with Bennett Group of Companies, and was flying in personally within the week to finalize the details.

“Do you understand what this means?” Arthur said, practically beaming. “This isn’t just growth, Diana. This is generational. We’re looking at numbers I haven’t even let myself imagine yet.”

“We could become trillionaires,” Diana breathed.

“We will,” Arthur said firmly, already reaching for his phone to begin coordinating preparations for Hale’s arrival.

Golden High – Noon – Cafeteria

Jason and Eloise had launched into another round of ridiculous jokes at lunch, the whole table dissolving into laughter, Luis nearly choking on his drink at one particularly absurd punchline.

Hazel’s eyes met Luis’s, and she winked at him between their tables, before turning back to her own conversation.

From several tables away, Princess watched the exchange with narrowed, calculating eyes, her attention fixed entirely on Luis.
—

{Ivy Fashion Empire – Lobby – Afternoon}

Duane sat at his usual spot, scrolling idly through his phone, and decided on a whim to check his Instagram messages, something he rarely bothered with.
A message sat waiting from an account with an unpronounceable string of letters and numbers for a username — no profile picture, no posts, clearly fake.

He opened it without thinking.

A photo loaded.

His stomach dropped instantly, a sharp, blinding headache gripping his skull the moment the image registered, and with it, a memory forced its way violently to the surface — the bar, the drink, the sudden dizziness, and then Beauty, leaning over him, pulling his clothes away piece by piece while his body refused to respond.

His hands started shaking.
“Duane?”

He looked up sharply. Ivory stood a few feet away, having just walked in, her eyes locked on his phone screen, horror spreading rapidly across her face.

“Ivy, it’s not what you—”

But she was already backing away, shaking her head, disgust and hurt tangled together in her expression. “I can’t believe you’d be looking at that. Here. In public. Some woman’s—”

“Ivory, wait, someone sent that to me, I didn’t ask for—”

She turned and fled before he could finish, and Duane shoved his phone into his pocket and sprinted after her, but by the time he reached the office door, her door had already slammed shut, the lock clicking firmly into place.

“Ivory, please, let me explain!” he called through the door, but silence answered him.
—

{Rodriguez Mansion – Afternoon}

Abigail arrived at Tyler’s mansion determined to enjoy the afternoon with her husband regardless.

She rang the doorbell, expecting him to answer immediately — he’d called only minutes earlier, confirming he was home, waiting for her.

Nothing.

She rang again. And again.

“Tyler?” she called, frowning, pressing her ear briefly against the door. “Are you in there?”

Silence.

Confused, she stepped back, glancing up at the windows, wondering if perhaps he’d fallen asleep, or stepped out despite what he’d told her.

That was when she saw it.
Smoke, thin at first, curling out from beneath one of the upstairs windows, then thickening rapidly, billowing out in dark, choking plumes.

“Tyler?!” Her voice cracked, panic flooding through her all at once. “TYLER?!”

She lunged for the door, pounding against it with both fists, screaming his name — and then, in an instant, the entire house erupted.

The explosion tore through the mansion with a deafening roar, glass shattering outward in a violent spray, flames bursting through every window simultaneously, the force of the blast throwing Abigail backward off the front steps.

“TYLER!” she screamed, scrambling back to her feet, running toward the burning building despite the searing heat rolling off it in waves.

Neighbors and security guards came rushing from every direction, several of them grabbing her before she could get anywhere near the flames, holding her back as she thrashed and screamed against their grip.

“Let me go! LET ME GO! MY HUSBAND IS IN THERE!”

“Ma’am, you can’t, it’s not safe, please—”

“TYLER! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP HIM! PLEASE, SOMEBODY GET HIM OUT!”

Her voice tore raw with every scream, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face as she watched the flames consume the house in front of her, the heat so intense it drove the crowd back step by step, the mansion collapsing in on itself section by section, roaring and crackling as it burned.

“Please,” she sobbed, her strength finally giving out in the arms of the strangers holding her. “Please, not him. Not him too.”

Her knees buckled entirely, and she collapsed to the pavement, the world around her spinning, sound fading in and out as shock closed in around the edges of her vision.

And then, through the haze of smoke and sirens now wailing in the distance, she felt it — a sharp, tearing pain low in her body, and looked down through blurred, tear-filled eyes to see blood beginning to spread across the pavement beneath her, coming out in between her legs.

Her hands moved instinctively to her stomach.

“No,” she whispered, voice breaking entirely. “No, no, please, not the baby too.”

Consciousness slipped away from her before anyone could reach her, the burning mansion reflected in her unseeing eyes as she went still on the cold pavement, the sirens growing louder, closer, but not close enough.

TBC…