Hot Driver - S01 E69

Story 4 hours ago

Hot Driver - S01 E69

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 69

Morales Mansion – Ron’s Room

The door swung shut behind them with a heavy click, and the maid’s back hit the wall before she’d even fully registered Ron’s hand closing around her wrist.

“Sir—” Her voice came out thin, panicked. She tried to twist away, but his grip only tightened.

“Shh.” He leaned in close, breath hot against her ear. “You look sexy tonight. You know that? Strip for me.”

“No.” The word came out sharper than she’d intended, fear giving way to something firmer underneath it. “Sir, please, I don’t want to—”
Her scream tore out before she could stop it, cut short the moment Ron’s palm clamped hard over her mouth.

“Quiet,” he hissed, eyes dark and unyielding. “You work for me. You do what I say.”

She shook her head frantically against his hand, tears already welling, her whole body rigid with terror.

His phone rang, sharp and sudden, cutting through the room.

Ron cursed under his breath, glancing at the screen — a name that made his jaw tighten instantly. He released her, stepping back just enough to answer.

“What,” he snapped into the phone, already turning away from her.

The maid didn’t wait. She bolted for the door the second his back was turned, yanking it open and disappearing down the hallway, her whole body shaking, gasping air like she’d been drowning.

—

Celeste’s New Residence – Morning

Celeste stood alone in her kitchen, plating a small breakfast for herself in silence, the quiet of the house pressing in around her in a way she still hadn’t gotten used to.

On a normal day, I’d already be at the restaurant by now, she thought, glancing at the clock. Elbow-deep in flour, greeting the morning regulars, laughing with Hannah over something stupid.

Hannah.

The name still didn’t sit right in her chest. Not with everything the detective had told her. She’d worked beside that girl for weeks — trained her, trusted her, treated her like family in the small, quiet way you did with someone you saw every single day.

I still can’t believe she’d do something like this to me, Celeste thought, setting down her fork, appetite gone entirely. There has to be more to it. There has to be.

At least I’m not the one in a cell, she reminded herself, some small mercy in an otherwise ruined week. And I hope, wherever she is, they catch her soon. Not for punishment’s sake. For answers.

She grabbed her coat off the hook by the door. The investigation wasn’t finished. She wasn’t finished either.

She headed for the station.

—

Hannah’s Residence – Same Morning

Hannah had been curled on that same worn couch for what felt like an eternity, the apartment silent and cold around her, grief and guilt tangled so tightly in her chest she could barely draw a full breath.

Her reflection in the dark television screen looked like a stranger — pale, hollow-eyed, nothing left of the cheerful girl who used to carry plates through Este’s with a genuine smile.

I can’t keep doing this, she thought, finally forcing herself upright. I can’t keep hiding while Celeste takes the blame for something I did with my own hands.

She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, the motion rough, unpracticed.

Mama’s gone, she thought, the grief cresting again briefly before she forced it back down. There’s nothing left for them to threaten me with that actually matters anymore.

Not really.

She pulled on her shoes and walked out the door, resolve hardening with every step toward the station.

Bennett’s Mansion – Breakfast

The dining table gleamed beneath the morning light, plates passed easily around as the Hale family and the Bennetts settled into what had become a comfortable, familiar rhythm.

“The shipping contracts should be finalized by next week,” Mr. Hale was saying between bites, gesturing loosely with his fork. “Assuming your legal team doesn’t find anything to quibble over.”

“They won’t,” Arthur said confidently. “I’ve already had them review the draft twice.”

Diana laughed softly at something Mrs. Hale said, and across the table, Mrs. Hale herself sat quiet for a moment, her eyes drifting, unfocused, toward the window.

That boy from earliet, she thought, unable to fully shake the memory. The driver.

Something about him had pulled at her the moment their eyes met in the driveway — a strange, physical ache, the kind she only ever felt around family, around her own children when they’d been away too long.

It’s the twins, she told herself firmly. I miss the twins, that’s all this is. This pull, this longing, it’s just because I haven’t seen them in weeks.

But the thought didn’t sit right, not entirely, some small, insistent voice in the back of her mind refusing to let it go so easily.

It can’t be him, she reminded herself. The child I lost was a daughter. There’s no way that boy has anything to do with her.

She pushed the thought aside and returned her attention to her plate, though it lingered at the edges of her mind for the rest of the meal.

Curtis Residence – Driveway

Maeve hit the ground before anyone could catch her, her body crumpling in a heap against the gravel.

“MAEVE!” Alice was on her knees beside her in an instant, cradling her daughter’s head, panic flooding her voice. “Maeve, baby, wake up—”

Curtis stood frozen on the front steps, his face drained entirely of color, hands trembling at his sides.

Alice looked up at him, confusion crashing into something sharper, more suspicious. “Have you two met before?”

Curtis didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His mouth opened and closed uselessly, no sound coming out, his whole body seemingly locked in place by the horror crawling up his spine.

“Curtis. ANSWER ME.”

Still nothing.

Alice gathered Maeve up as best she could, dragging her toward the car with the help of a stunned security guard who’d rushed over from the gate. She got Maeve into the back seat, and only then did Curtis finally move, stumbling down the steps and climbing into the passenger seat, guilt radiating off him in waves.

“What did you DO?” Alice demanded, voice climbing sharp and dangerous as she started the engine. “Curtis, what happened between you two?”

He buried his face in his hands, sobs wracking through him, pitiful and broken. “Why didn’t you show her to me sooner,” he choked out, ignoring her question entirely. “Why did you keep her from me all these years, Alice? My life is ruined. RUINED.”

“What did you DO?” Alice screamed again, tears streaming down her own face now, the car swerving slightly as her hands shook on the wheel.

Curtis said nothing. He simply sobbed harder, unable to force the truth past his own lips, the weight of it far too monstrous to say out loud.

Ivy Fashion Empire – Ivory’s Office

“Duane,” Ivory called through the intercom, “come to my office, please.”

He arrived minutes later, and the moment the door shut behind him, she crossed the room and threw her arms around his neck, holding on tight.

“I missed you,” she murmured into his shoulder. “It’s been, what, three hours? I don’t understand why that feels like forever.”

Duane’s heart stumbled, warmth spreading fast through his chest as he wrapped his arms around her in return, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I missed you too,” he admitted quietly, and meant it more than he’d expected to.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, something hopeful and a little nervous flickering across her face. “Have dinner with me tonight. Please. Don’t say no.”

“Ivory—”

“Please,” she said again, tightening her arms around him. “I’m asking nicely. I could just order you to, you know. As your boss.”

“You could,” he said, smiling despite himself.

“But I’d rather you want to.”
He studied her for a long moment, something in his chest settling into place. “Fine. Dinner. Tonight.”

She squealed softly, hugging him tighter, and then, before he could say anything else, she rose up on her toes and kissed him — slow and warm and lingering.

His heart skipped several beats.