All Chapters of My billionaire driver : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The old safehouse walls pulsed with shadows, the emergency lights casting everything in a sterile blue glow. Rain tapped against the reinforced windows like impatient fingers. Liam sat in the corner of the tech room, eyes scanning the encrypted lines of code Ghost had left behind—lines that refused to make sense. But his hand hovered over something else too.A transmitter.The comm line to Mr. West.It was always open.For weeks, Liam had been sending encrypted updates—status reports, threats assessed, Ariana’s condition, her movements. At first, he told himself it was for her safety. That Mr. West was her father. That she deserved protection.But now?After Ghost's betrayal? After the file marked “SERAPHIM: SUBJECT A”?He wasn’t so sure anymore.Behind him, Ariana’s voice broke the silence.“How long?”Liam froze.“How long have you been talking to him behind my back?”He turned slowly. Ariana stood in the doorway, soaked from the rain, her hair clinging to her face. Her eyes weren’t

The moment Ariana stepped through the school gates, it was like walking into a war zone made of whispers.Heads snapped up from phones. Conversations broke off mid-sentence. But as soon as her heels clicked against the tiled hallway, they resumed … louder this time. Bolder.“I heard her dad’s secretly funding an underground lab...”“They said kids were experimented on like real test subjects.”“What if she’s one of them?”Ariana’s jaw clenched. She kept walking. “Stop it,” a voice snapped. “She had a mom. She’s not some lab freak.” “Yeah, but what if her whole life is a lie?”She didn’t stop to respond. Her back was straight, her stare locked ahead. The only thing on her mind was chemistry class…and getting through the damn day.A guy from senior year, Lucas, stepped into her path, phone in hand.“Rina, have you seen—”Before he could finish, her best friend, Kara, yanked him by the sleeve. “F**k off, Lucas. Don’t ask her sh*t.”Ariana gave her bestie a grateful glance but didn’t s

The mansion was silent, blanketed in the velvet hush of midnight. Rain tapped gently against the windows like a lullaby for the restless.Ariana’s bare feet made no sound on the marble floors as she crept down the corridor, hoodie pulled over her silk nightdress. She paused at the entrance of the guest house, heart pounding like a drum in her chest.She knocked once.No answer.Then slowly, she pushed the door open.Inside, Liam stood shirtless, fresh from a shower, a towel slung around his neck. His eyes snapped to her instantly….alert, guarded. “Miss Westbrook?” “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, stepping inside. “It’s midnight, Liam. Do you really think I snuck in here to hear you call me Miss Westbrook?”He didn’t move. Just stood there, water still glistening on his skin. “Why are you here?” “To talk,” she said. “I saw a photo. You looked... older. But it was you. Or someone who looks exactly like you. Standing next to my dad.”His jaw clenched. “You shouldn’t be digging in

The previous day’s awkwardness had faded into the background,at least on the surface. When the mysterious man in Victor Westbrook’s office called Liam “Logan,” the tension in the room could’ve cut glass. But Victor had quickly laughed it off.“Ah, you must be mistaking him for someone else,” he had said, flashing a tight smile at his guest. “My daughter’s driver is new. Probably just has one of those forgettable faces.” “I—I suppose so,” the man had muttered, clearly rattled but dropping the topic with a nervous chuckle.Liam had kept his composure, gave a subtle nod of agreement, but Ariana wasn’t fooled. The way Liam’s jaw had tightened, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes,it didn’t sit right with her.But she said nothing.Not yet.The next morning, sunlight streamed into Ariana’s massive room like warm silk, the soft hum of city life rising in the distance. She sat by her mirror brushing her hair absentmindedly when her phone buzzed with a message from the house inter

The gala had finally begun to thin out champagne glasses clinking less often, guests slipping into luxury cars, camera flashes dimming with the night.Victor Westbrook stood at the balcony of the hall, whispering final words to his old associate, Mr. Hawthorne. Liam stood a short distance behind them, hands folded neatly in front of him, the picture of calm. But beneath his composed exterior, a storm churned.That slip earlier… Logan.He’d seen the man’s eyes widen, his lips part with recognition, and he felt the air shift. “I’m terribly sorry,” Mr. Hawthorne had said, correcting himself almost too quickly. “You just… remind me of someone. A public figure, I think. I must’ve seen you on TV. My mistake.”Victor gave a dismissive chuckle, waving it off. “That’s not possible. He’s my daughter’s driver. Very reliable. No offense, Liam.” “None taken, sir,” Liam said evenly, keeping his eyes trained on a spot just over Victor’s shoulder.Mr. Hawthorne offered one last handshake and retre