All Chapters of The Trillionaire Driver. : Chapter 1
- Chapter 10
12 chapters
Chapter 1A: The Mistaken Ride
The glass doors of the Lewis Group tower swung open as Deborah Lewis stormed out, her heels clapping hard against the marble. She didn’t wait for her assistant, didn’t look back at the boardroom that had just humiliated her.Her father’s voice still echoed in her mind “Maybe you’re not ready to lead yet.”Her phone buzzed. She jabbed at the screen, ordering a car through the app, then folded her arms and scanned the line of black sedans outside. It was raining lightly, the kind of drizzle that blurred reflections and made the city glow with silver haze.A black car pulled up. No logo. No driver’s name flashing on her phone. She didn’t care.She yanked open the door, slid into the back seat, and exhaled. “Drive. You’re late.”From the driver’s seat, Chris Alphonso glanced back, startled. He was dressed plainly, dark jacket, no tie, no company emblem on the dashboard. The woman who’d just entered spoke like someone who’d never been told no.“Uh… I think” he began.She waved a manicured
Chapter 1B - The Mistaken Ride
The tension snapped like a live wire. Deborah stepped forward. “Enough. We came for dinner, not interrogation.”Her father held up a hand. “Raymond.”, but the damage was done. The whispers continued. Chris reached subtly for her hand beneath the tablecloth, squeezing once, not for show, but for grounding. She blinked in surprise, her pulse stuttering.He leaned closer, voice low. “You alright?”She nodded stiffly. “I’ve had worse.”He smiled. “Not tonight.” For the first time, her breathing steadied.Deborah’s father clears his throat, the weight of silence returning. “So,” he says slowly, “Chris, tell us… what exactly do you do for a living?”Chris leans back slightly, unfazed. “I invest. Mostly in people.”Uncle Raymond lets out a quiet laugh. “How poetic. Translation, unemployed with good vocabulary.”The table chuckles again. Deborah’s jaw tightens; she glances around, her cheeks burning. “Uncle, please, ”“No, no,” Raymond interrupts, raising his glass. “I’m just trying to
Chapter 2A – Morning After the Storm
The storm had passed, but the city still smelled like rain, wet asphalt and something metallic.Deborah stirred awake in her penthouse, silk sheets tangled around her.The night replayed in flashes. Chris’s voice, the calm defiance. That smile at the end, she sat up, rubbing her temples. “What the hell did I just drag myself into…”Her phone buzzed, three missed calls from her father, one from her assistant, and a single unread text.Chris: Breakfast? 9AM. I’ll drive.Her brows shot up. “Drive?” she muttered. “He thinks he’s my chauffeur now?”Still… curiosity edged her irritation. Who was this man who could sit in a room full of billionaires, take insults like a professional, and leave everyone speechless?She slid out of bed, wrapping a robe around her. “He said he invests in people… right. Probably sells fake stock tips on YouTube.” but the more she tried to convince herself, the less she believed it.[9:03 AM – Outside her building]Chris leaned against a dark sedan, casual, compo
Chapter 2B - Morning After the Storm
The waiter returned moments later with plates, but instead of setting them down immediately, he placed a sleek black card folder on the table first.“Mr. Alphonso,” he said quietly, “the manager wanted me to thank you again for last quarter’s donation. It made all the difference.”Deborah’s breath caught, Donation? Quarter?Chris didn’t blink. “Tell him it was nothing.”The waiter nodded and left, Deborah whispered, “You donated to this place?”“Not exactly.”“What does not exactly mean?”He leaned back, voice calm. “Let’s just say… this café exists because I wanted a quiet place to think.”She gaped at him. “You own it?”He tilted his head. “Half.”Her pulse kicked. “Chris, what are you really doing here?”He smiled, slow, deliberate. “Having breakfast with my future wife, apparently.”The words hit her like static, too casual, too confident, too dangerous.Deborah stared at him. “Future wife? Don’t flatter yourself.”Chris raised his cup, took a slow sip. “You said it first.”“I sai
Chapter 3 – The Name That Doesn’t Exist
Deborah’s phone buzzed the moment Chris stepped out of sight, Her hands were still trembling when she answered.“Ms. Lewis,” said her father’s assistant, voice tight. “There’s something you need to know.”“About what?”“About the account irregularities you mentioned last week. We ran an internal audit, one of the shell companies your uncle used traces back to an entity named Alphonso Holdings.”Deborah’s blood ran cold. “That can’t be right.”“It’s listed in multiple government registries, but here’s the strange part, no director, no shareholders, no public data. Just the name.”She swallowed. “Send me everything.”“Already did. But, Ms. Lewis… your father said to stay out of it. He sounded serious.”The call ended, She opened her laptop on the café table, ignoring the waiter clearing nearby dishes. The email was there, attachments, encrypted PDFs, layers of corporate paperwork. She scrolled through fast.Then she stopped, A photo buried in the files, security footage from a closed-do
Chapter 4 – Unmasked Intentions
The address she’d traced led to a glass tower with no sign, no directory, no reception desk, just a single elevator that required a keycard, She didn’t have one.“Ma’am?” the security guard said, hesitant. “You’re not on the list.”Deborah smiled tightly. “That’s fine. He’s expecting me.”“Who?”“Chris Alphonso.”The guard blinked. “Ma’am, I’m not sure”, but before he could finish, the elevator dinged open, Chris stood inside, sleeves rolled up, calm as if he’d known she was coming.“It’s okay,” he told the guard. “She’s with me.”The guard stepped back instantly. Deborah followed him in, fury barely contained, the doors slid shut. Silence. Then, “You hacked my laptop,” she said.“You made it easy,” he replied.“You followed me home.”“Technically, you followed me first.”Her voice sharpened. “Who the hell do you think you are, watching me, warning me, freezing my uncle’s accounts?”He turned slightly toward her, eyes cool. “A man cleaning up your family’s mess.”“You had no right”“I
Chapter 5 – Shadows in the Rearview
Rain slicked the road, turning the city into a blur of neon and reflection. Deborah’s hands clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles whitened.Her phone still glowed on the seat beside her, Chris’s last message: Games end, This doesn’t.She hit delete, It didn’t help, she checked the mirror, nothing but wet asphalt and a trail of headlights behind her.“Breathe,” she whispered to herself. “You’re not paranoid. You’re just careful.” but then, one car stayed exactly three lengths behind, Every turn. Every light. Every lane change.Her pulse kicked up. “No,” she murmured. “Coincidence.”She accelerated, cutting across traffic. The car behind her did the same. Her phone buzzed again.Unknown: You’re driving too fast. Slow down.Deborah’s blood went cold. She dropped the phone. “What”The message pinged again.Unknown: Left lane. Now.A black SUV appeared suddenly beside her, sleek, tinted, same as Chris’s, but not his plate. Her mind raced. Is this him? Or someone else entirely?T
Chapter 6A – Collision Course
Rain turned the city into streaks of silver and noise. Deborah’s windshield wipers could barely keep up, the headlights behind her grew larger, whiter, closing fast. “Not again,” she whispered.Her tires hissed as she swerved across lanes. The car behind mirrored every move. Its lights flickered once, almost like a signal. She hit the gas, heart pounding. The steering wheel trembled beneath her hands.Then, another flash. To her right, a second car appeared. Black, unmarked, gliding into position like it had been waiting for her.“This isn’t happening,” she muttered.She took the next turn hard. The tires screamed. The sedan fishtailed, nearly clipping the median before she corrected. The mirror filled with white light, two vehicles closing in.Her phone vibrated on the passenger seat. She snatched it up without looking at the screen. “Who are you?” she shouted. “What do you want from me?”A man’s voice came through, calm, unhurried. “Pull over, Deborah. You’re making this harder than
Chapter 6B -- Collision Course
The car rolled forward through the rain, the city lights stretching ahead like a line of ghosts. In the mirror, nothing followed, but Deborah couldn’t shake the feeling that the game hadn’t stopped. It had only changed shape.Rain streaked across the windshield in long, liquid ribbons. Deborah’s breath fogged the glass as the world outside bled into motionless gray. Chris’s unfinished sentence hung in the air, His voice was quiet but ti…, then swallowed by the hum of idling engines.She blinked, trying to focus, but the adrenaline still thundered in her veins. Two black SUVs sat at crooked angles on the wet road behind them, their high beams slicing through the mist. Shadows shifted inside, three, maybe four figures stepping out.Chris’s hand was already on the door handle. “Stay here,” he said, voice low, almost mechanical.“Like hell I will,” she snapped, fumbling with her own belt. Her pulse tripped over itself. She barely registered the slam of his door before she was outside, ra
Chapter 7 – The Diner
The storm had settled into a steady drizzle by the time they left the highway. A neon sign buzzed weakly ahead, half the letters flickering out so that DINER read like D—ER. Chris slowed, glancing at Deborah from the corner of his eye.She hadn’t said a word since the men with the falcon crest. The silence between them felt heavier than the rain.The parking lot was almost empty, two cars, both dark, both slick with rain, the place looked harmless enough. A row of booths visible through steamed-over glass, a waitress wiping the counter, the hum of a fridge motor cutting through the quiet.Chris killed the engine. “We’ll rest here,” he said.Deborah opened her door before he could add anything. “I’ll take a coffee,” she muttered, stepping out into the wet air. Her heels clicked against the asphalt, echoing across the empty lot. She didn’t look back.Inside, the diner smelled of burnt coffee and bleach. The waitress, gray hair piled in a bun, gave them a polite nod. “Kitchen’s closing i