Hot Driver - S01 E68

Story 13 hours ago

Hot Driver - S01 E68

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 68

—

{A Police Station – Outside}

Celeste emerged into the afternoon light with her five workers close behind her, and the moment they were clear of the building, she broke down completely, sobbing into her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling out her phone with shaking fingers, transferring each of them their pay for the lost day despite everything.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through any of this because of me—”

“We’re not leaving,” the thin young man from earlier said firmly, and the others nodded in agreement around him. “We’re in this together. We’ll get to the bottom of it together, ma’am. All of us.”

Celeste stared at them, overwhelmed, and simply nodded, unable to find words adequate enough.

Together, the group made their way toward the hospital.

—

{Creston General Hospital}

They were led through the wards one by one, and Celeste’s chest ached with every step — but relief flooded through her at each bedside, every victim awake, alert, responding well to treatment. The poison had been flushed from their systems quickly, thanks to how fast they’d been brought in.

Nobody had died.

Celeste pressed her hand to her mouth at the last bed, tears slipping free again — this time, finally, tears she could bear.

—

{Tyler’s New Mansion – Evening}

The new estate rose grand and gleaming against the darkening sky, larger even than the one that had burned — pale stone facades, floor-to-ceiling windows glowing warm gold from within, a sprawling private pool tucked into the rear gardens beneath strings of soft hanging lights.

Abigail floated on her back in the shallow end, Tyler’s arms wrapped securely around her, water lapping gently against both of them.

“I still can’t believe you bought all this in a week,” she murmured, tilting her head back to look at him upside down.

“Anything for my girls,” Tyler said, pressing a kiss to her temple, then trailing lower to press another, softer one against the small, gentle curve now visible beneath the water — three months along now, the swell of her tummy just beginning to show.

Abigail laughed, clinging tighter to him, and he caught her lips in a slow, lingering kiss beneath the string lights, the water rippling softly around them.

—

{Celeste’s Residence – Night}

Celeste dragged herself through the front door, utterly spent, and the moment she was alone, the tears came again — quieter this time, exhausted rather than frantic.

My dream, she thought, sinking onto the couch. Locked down. Maybe for good. And still no sign of Hannah. No proof of anything, really, beyond one worker’s word.

Her phone rang. Luis.

She answered immediately. “Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m with Duane,” Luis said, his voice steadier than she’d expected. “His boss helped again, Mama. She got you released.”

Celeste closed her eyes, gratitude washing through her exhausted body. “Tell her thank you. Tell her thank you a thousand times over.”
“I will. Mama — can I stay the night here? At the mansion?”

Celeste considered it only briefly. “Yes. Stay safe. Don’t worry about coming home tonight.”

—

{Ivy Fashion Empire – Evening}

Duane drove them all out of the empire, Luis chattering nonstop in the back seat, every bit as talkative as Hazel on her best day.

“So,” Luis said, leaning forward between the seats, “do you actually like my brother, or is it just, like, a work thing?

Ivory laughed, glancing at Duane through the rearview mirror. “I love him a lot, Luis.”

Duane’s chest warmed at the words, catching her eyes in the mirror, the memory of her confession that afternoon still sitting warm and unresolved in his chest. He didn’t say anything. He just smiled.
—

{Bennett’s Mansion – Evening}

The car pulled into the driveway, and Luis practically pressed his face to the window, marveling at the scale of the mansion looming ahead.

“This is insane,” he breathed, following them inside. “This is actually insane. Do you guys have, like, a bowling alley somewhere too?”

They made their way toward the dining room, and the moment they crossed the threshold, Hazel let out a shriek of pure delight.

“LUIS?!”

She was across the room in seconds, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the table, settling him into the seat right beside her own before anyone else could claim it.

Introductions and greetings passed warmly around the table, and Arthur, watching the whole scene unfold, finally smiled — a real, unguarded smile.

“So this is the famous Luis,” he said. “The one my daughter won’t stop talking about.”

Hazel went bright red. Luis went brighter.

“He’s cute, alright,” Arthur added, entirely too pleased with himself, and the whole table burst into laughter as Hazel and Luis exchanged quick, mortified glances at each other before both looking hurriedly away.

—

{Bennett’s Mansion – The Next Morning}

The household stirred early, everyone preparing for their respective days. Luis emerged from the guest room fully dressed, hair still slightly damp, and found Hazel already waiting in the hallway.

Their eyes met. Smiles broke across both their faces at once.

They made their way down together, and Luis paused at the door to thank Diana and Arthur properly for the hospitality before Hazel’s driver pulled around to take them both to school.

Meanwhile, Duane and Ivory crossed toward her car — just as another vehicle pulled into the driveway, sleek and expensive, the Hale family crest embossed subtly on the door.

The Hales stepped out, and Mrs. Hale’s gaze landed on Duane.

She stopped walking entirely.

Something in her expression shifted — sharp, searching, almost hungry — as she studied his face, his jaw, the particular way he stood.
Duane felt it too, an odd, inexplicable pull tightening in his chest as their eyes met, something unfamiliar and unplaceable stirring beneath his ribs.

He shrugged it off after a moment, offering a polite bow, and climbed into the driver’s seat, pulling out of the mansion with Ivory beside him — neither of them noticing the way Mrs. Hale remained frozen in the driveway long after the car had disappeared from view.

—

{Morales Mansion – Morning}

The maid knocked softly on Ron’s door, poking her head in. “Sir, breakfast is—”

He crossed the room before she could finish, gripping her wrist and pulling her inside, the door swinging shut behind them.

—

{Alice’s Private Residence – Evening}

Maeve sat rigid in the passenger seat, hands twisted together in her lap, watching the streets slide past outside the window.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked quietly, for what felt like the tenth time. “You’re sure this is really him?”

“I’m sure,” Alice said, eyes fixed straight ahead on the road.

Maeve’s stomach churned, anxiety knotting tighter with every passing block. This is it, she thought. After twenty-seven years. I’m finally going to meet my father.

The car turned down a familiar street.

Maeve’s breath caught. This road. She knew this road.

The car slowed further, easing into a driveway she recognized instantly, dread pooling cold and immediate in her stomach even before her mind fully caught up to what she was seeing.

No, she thought. No, this can’t be—

The car came to a stop.

And there, standing on the front steps, waiting exactly as he always did, stood a face Maeve knew intimately. A face she’d been forced to know far too intimately.

Alice gestured toward him. “Maeve. This is your father.”

Maeve’s vision tunneled, the world tilting violently sideways beneath her.

“My daughter?” Curtis’s voice boomed out, shaken and disbelieving, echoing across the driveway.

Maeve’s eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the ground before anyone could catch her.

TBC…
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