Her Driver’s Drunk Mistake, Her Family’s Tears

It was around 10 p.m. on Halloween Night.

I was driving the last batch of my “passengers” toward Greenwood Cemetery.

On the way, a brand-new Maybach suddenly swerved into my lane and slammed into my van.

Right after, the drunk driver staggered out, pointing at me and cursing loudly:

“You blind idiot! Driving that junky old van, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“You scratched Miss Lee’s car! Even if we sold you, you couldn’t afford the damage.”

From the luxury car, a woman gave me a cold glance. She told the driver:

“Forget it. Don’t waste time on this worthless nobody. Just get me home—I need to meet my fiancé. If I’m late, Grandpa will be furious.”

The driver smashed my window, spat out a few more curses, then got back into the car and drove off.

My expression twisted. That woman must be Vanessa Lee, the Lee family’s cherished heiress!

And I… was her fiancé. The only problem was—she didn’t know me yet.

I shook my head with a sigh, about to restart my battered van and head toward Greenwood Cemetery, when my eyes suddenly narrowed.

One of my “passengers” was missing.

Damn, this was trouble.

At the moment of the crash, I had instinctively glanced toward the back.

Thankfully, all eight urns remained intact.

Eight ghostly figures sat quietly on top of the urns—men, women, young, old—each gazing coldly out the window without expression.

I calmed them, saying:

“Stay put. Don’t lose control. I promise I’ll get you all to Hell’s Gate before midnight. Don’t make trouble now.”

The moment my words fell, before any of the spirits responded, my side window shattered under the swing of a steel baseball bat.

The Maybach’s driver, Tony Brown, drunk and reeking of liquor, stood there pointing the bat at my face and shouted:

“You damn bastard, get out here!”

“You worthless piece of trash! Driving a rusted van, and you dare to scratch Miss Lee’s car? Do you have a death wish?”

“Tonight, I’m gonna teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!”

He cursed as he smashed my van’s windows over and over.

If I didn’t get out soon, he really might tear the whole vehicle apart.

As I stepped out, Tony swung the bat straight at my head.

Drunk as he was, he acted on pure impulse. If it had been anyone else, one unlucky strike could’ve been fatal.

I sidestepped, snatched the bat from his hands, and tossed it aside.

Frowning, I told him:

“You were driving drunk. You’re the one who hit me, and now you’re—”

Before I could finish, Tony glared at me with bloodshot eyes and barked:

“You should be grateful I’m even hitting you! And you dare dodge?”

“So what if I’m drunk driving? Do you even know who I am? I’m Miss Lee’s personal driver!”

“You crossed Miss Lee—you know what happens to people like you?”

“Kneel down and apologize right now, or you’re dead!”

As he shouted, I glanced toward the Maybach.

The back window slid down, revealing the striking face of Vanessa Lee.

I knew Vanessa and Tony, though neither of them knew me.

Vanessa’s eyes flickered with disdain as she looked at me. Clearly tipsy herself, she snapped at Tony:

“Quit wasting time with this worthless nobody. Just drive me home—I need to meet that fiancé I’ve never even seen.”