My Own Driver Calls Me a Moocher

I honestly thought Casey was actually smelling something bad, so I told Hayden to take the car in for a deep clean and detailing.

However, her behavior only got more ridiculous. She started wiping down my seat with disinfectant the second I got out or put down disposable seat covers before I even sat down.

When I confronted Hayden about it, he just offered a sheepish explanation in private. "Ms. Gray, Casey is just worried the car isn't clean enough and might ruin your clothes, so she's extra careful about hygiene."

I didn't think much of it at the time.

After all, I had too much on my plate. I was managing multimillion-dollar projects every day. I really didn't have the time or energy to sweat the small stuff with some young lady.

It wasn't until this morning, when I saw the note slapped onto my usual seat, that it finally clicked.

Casey thought I was the one hitching a free ride.

I had intended to teach Hayden and Casey a lesson.

But right now, Hayden was practically begging in front of me. "Ms. Gray, I swear, this will never happen again. I'll explain everything to Casey today. I won't be giving her rides anymore. Please, for the sake of my dad's health, forgive me just this once."

Thinking of Arthur, I sighed. "Fine. I won't press charges."

Once the police officers left, Hayden let out a massive sigh of relief. He thanked me profusely and acted incredibly humble.

I didn't say anything else. I just got into the back seat and told him to take me to the office.

After that day, Hayden actually behaved himself for a while.

Casey was nowhere to be seen in the passenger seat whenever he picked me up.

The car was spotless, and any trace of that note had been completely scrubbed away.

His driving remained smooth and solid.

The only issue was that he kept running late, and he always had an excuse ready.

"Ms. Gray, I'm so sorry. There was an accident on the road today, so I got stuck in traffic for a bit."

"Ms. Gray, I'm really sorry. My alarm didn't go off, and I overslept."

"Ms. Gray, a pipe burst at my place, and I had to sort things out with the downstairs neighbors, so I got held up."

While the excuses started sounding a bit flimsy, he was always apologetic, so I didn't push it.

I figured that was the end of it—until one weekend, when I spontaneously decided to spend a couple of days relaxing at my suburban villa.

I called Hayden. "Where are you now? I need to go somewhere. Come pick me up."

He stuttered and hesitated for a long time before finally saying cautiously, "Ms. Gray, I woke up this morning and found out the car had a flat tire. It's at the mechanic's right now. They said it won't be ready until tomorrow. Where are you heading? Should I call a cab for you?"

I frowned, too tired to deal with the hassle. "Never mind. I'll call one myself."

After hanging up, I took a ride to the villa.

But the moment I arrived at the front gate, I froze.

Because my Maybach was sitting right there in the driveway, with perfect tires.

I stared at the car for a solid few seconds. Once I was certain it was mine, I picked up my pace and walked toward the front door.

The door was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open, and the sight inside left me entirely speechless.

The living room was an absolute disaster zone.

The coffee table and floor were littered with empty alcohol bottles, fruit peels, pizza boxes, and cigarette butts.

My multimillion-dollar couch and rugs were covered in muddy footprints. There were even several black holes burned right into the fabric by cigarettes.

The moment I saw the mess, my hands balled into fists.

I had bought this villa as a quiet getaway, and I'd poured a massive amount of effort into the interior design and furniture.

I usually took pristine care of the place, and now these people were treating it like total garbage.

I scanned the room, and my eyes locked onto the couch facing the door. Casey was sitting right there.