Chapter 15
“My girlfriend was involved in an accident, and I need to go to the hospital right away. I was supposed to take Director Hart back to his apartment, but I can’t find anyone else to do it. I saw you when I entered Zion Club earlier. Could you please help me out and take him home? He’s drunk and can’t drive, and I don’t feel comfortable handing him over to just anyone,” Leo’s voice came through the phone, full of anxiety.
Myra stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the urgency in his tone. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her own exhaustion and the fever still coursing through her body. She gently pressed her hand to her forehead, conflicted. “But—”
“Please, Miss Stark! My girlfriend is in serious condition, and I really need to get to her,” Leo’s voice broke slightly. “Can you help me out? I’m really worried about her!”
Her heart wavered, but she couldn’t ignore the sense of responsibility that tugged at her. She didn’t know how serious his girlfriend’s injuries were, and rejecting his plea under these circumstances felt wrong. Besides, Leo had been helpful to her in the past, and she couldn’t afford to leave a bad impression, especially with the Sunny Bay Project hanging in the balance.
After a brief pause, Myra finally relented. “Alright. Where are you?”
“We’re at region A of the parking lot. The lot number is XXX, and the car plate is XXXXX,” Leo quickly gave the details before hanging up.
Myra stood for a moment, staring at her phone. Something about the situation felt off, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. With a heavy sigh, she walked toward the parking lot as directed.
When she arrived, she found Leo pacing anxiously in front of a silver-grey Bentley Mulsanne, his phone still in hand. As soon as he saw her, his expression softened, relief flooding his face.
“Miss Stark, thank you so much! I really appreciate this. If you ever need my help, I’ll do anything I can!” Leo said, practically out of breath. “The car keys are already in the car, and Director Hart’s address is XXXXX. He’s drunk, so after you drop him off, could you please make some broth for him to sober up? Thank you, really!”
Without waiting for Myra’s response, Leo hurried off, leaving her standing by the car, feeling more than a little confused. His hurried departure raised more questions than answers. Something wasn’t right about his behavior.
With a quick glance at the Bentley, she opened the door and saw Tony slouched in the backseat. His well-built frame was immediately noticeable, and he leaned against the leather seat with his right palm resting on his forehead. His posture suggested that he was in no state to be out alone. A strong smell of alcohol wafted through the open window as Myra approached.
Myra frowned, unsure of how much he had drunk. How much did he drink? she wondered. Her body temperature rose as she gathered her thoughts and climbed into the driver’s seat. With a final glance at Tony, she rolled the windows up slightly to prevent the cold air from blowing directly on him, while still keeping the car fresh.
Before she started the engine, she felt the need to report to him. “Director Hart, Leo has already left. I’ll drive you home instead. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just let me know.”
Tony didn’t respond. He was likely too drunk to even hear her. His head was still lowered, and he made no move to acknowledge her presence. Myra exhaled quietly and started the engine, carefully driving the car out of the basement parking lot.
Meanwhile, outside, Sean had just left the noisy atmosphere of the private room where his friends were gathered. He had never been fond of the noise, but lately, he needed that chaos to numb the growing frustration inside him.
As he reached the entrance of Zion Club, he saw the silver-grey Bentley Mulsanne driving past. It wasn’t the car that caught his attention, but the driver.
Wait a minute… Sean thought, narrowing his eyes. The Stark family doesn’t own a Bentley Mulsanne. Whose car is Myra driving?
His gaze shifted to the backseat, where he could make out a shadowy figure. It’s a man.
Sean’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched. Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and called Myra. The phone rang twice before it was abruptly cut off. His face darkened, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Before he could call her back, his phone rang again—this time from Elsie. His expression shifted to one of confusion as he answered.
Back in the car, Myra kept her eyes on the road, still feeling the effects of her fever. She didn’t dare drive too quickly. Not only did she have to stay focused on the road, but this was the first time she had driven a man she barely knew—especially one who was clearly intoxicated.
She shot a quick glance at Tony through the rearview mirror. He had shifted in his seat, leaning further against the headrest. He covered his eyes with his elbow, his lips pressed into a tight line, and the alcohol smell clung to him. He looked miserable.
How much did he drink? Myra couldn’t help but wonder again. But she didn’t let herself get distracted. She had to keep her focus on the road.
The weight of the night settled heavily on her shoulders, but she pushed forward, determined to get him home safely.