Powerful Heir Crippled Me for Refusing Him

I’m a midnight taxi driver. My business is unusual, and so are my passengers—the kind of clients most people wouldn’t know how to deal with.

One night, a fellow driver asked me to pick up an old friend of his, saying the man was both wealthy and influential. I took it seriously, even preparing special offerings in the car.

While driving toward the outskirts, I spotted three people waving at me. It was late, the streets deserted, and no other cars in sight. Out of courtesy, I decided to give them a lift.

As soon as I stopped, a man in designer clothes shoved himself into the front seat and flung a stack of hundred-dollar bills into my face.

“Take us to the King’s Hotel downtown,” he ordered. “And buy a few more boxes of condoms while you’re at it.”

The other two slid into the back.

“What the hell? I can’t even stretch my legs,” one of them complained.

With a few muffled thuds, the high-end fruits and pastries I had placed in the back—offerings of my intended passenger—were tossed out onto the road. My goodwill was instantly trampled, and anger flushed through me.

“Get out. I’m not taking you anymore.”

The man in the front stared at me as if I’d said something absurd.

“You? A shabby taxi driver, daring to refuse me? I could erase you from Kingsport with a single word.”

The two in the back burst out laughing.

“Do you know who he is? Nicholas Shenford—the prince of Kingsport! You’re lucky he’s even in your car.”

“He’s someone who could make the whole city tremble with just one step, and you, a nobody, dare not show him respect.”

I hesitated. I had no idea what the “Kingsport world” was, but I did know my own realm—and I didn’t deal with the living.

——

“Understand? Then drive already.” Nicholas leaned over and pressed the horn several times, making the girl in the back, Lydia Langford, giggle.

I sighed inwardly. A moment of misplaced kindness had gotten me into trouble. Holding back my irritation, I explained calmly, “Sorry, but this car’s booked. I’m on my way to pick someone up. I can drop you at the nearest gas station—there are plenty of taxis there.”

No sooner had I finished than a wad of cash slapped against my cheek from the back seat.

“I’ve booked you. How much more do you want? Just drive.”

I quickly turned my head away, shaking it. “You’ve misunderstood. It’s not about money. The city center is out of my way.”

The next instant, a heavy kick struck the back of my seat.

“I could crush you like an ant. If you value your life, drive.”

They refused to get out, and I couldn’t reveal my true identity, so I decided to endure it until we reached the gas station.

Before long, the back seat filled with the acrid smell of cigarette smoke, making me cough.

“Could you please not smoke in the car?” I asked.

The man in the back sneered. “My cigarettes cost more than your whole car. You should be paying me for letting you breathe them in.”

“That’s right,” another chimed in. “If the Maybach we ordered hadn’t broken down, we wouldn’t be stuck in your junker.”

Lydia flicked her cigarette ash onto the seat and crushed it out, leaving a burnt mark. The stench of scorched leather spread instantly.

My heart sank. This was my limited-edition SSS hearse from the underworld—irreplaceable.

“What are you doing? Damage my car, and you won’t be able to pay for it.”

They stared, then erupted in mocking laughter.

“Can’t afford it? I have fifty-nine luxury cars in my garage. The cheapest of them could buy your entire family’s lives.”

“This wreck isn’t even as clean as my dog’s cage. Stop pretending you’re anything but dirt-poor.”

My knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, but my mission came first. Arguing was pointless.

When we finally reached the gas station, I stopped the car and said evenly, “This is as far as I can take you. You all have phones—call another taxi or have someone pick you up. I won’t charge you for the ride.”