I was confused when I received the request for a driver. The car had my dad’s car plate. Dad did not like nightclubs, so what was he doing here?In the next second, I got a call from the client. The man’s tone was impatient. “Why aren’t you here yet? If Mr. Morgan gets upset, I’ll complain about you!”I did not hear the words very clearly. I only thought that something had happened to my dad. Thus, I sped toward Dreamscape, the nightclub, on my motorcycle.When I reached Dreamscape’s entrance, I saw a group of skimpily dressed men and women fluttering around a man who was walking out.“Bye, Mr. Morgan!”“You have to come back again, Mr. Morgan!”I quickly recognized the man as Steven Anders.He was a poor student whom my family was sponsoring. So, why were people calling him Mr. Morgan, and in such a fawning tone?Steven tapped his foot and impatiently glanced at his watch. He muttered, “Where’s the driver you hired? Where’s he gone to?”After saying that, the bodyguard besi
Read more