Ruthless Billionaire Mocks Her Driver, Then it Backfires

At a lavish party, a ruthless billionaire targets her driver for laughs. His arrival flips the room and exposes a truth no one expected.

Chapter 1

There once lived a man called Marcus. Marcus wasn’t boisterous. He rarely spoke unnecessarily. Conflict wasn’t his preference. He possessed the rare ability to observe everything while maintaining complete composure. When others raised their voices at him, he simply acknowledged them with a nod. When attempts were made to humiliate him, he’d briefly lower his gaze before lifting it again, as though clutching something resilient within.

Most residents of Lagos barely recognized Marcus as fully human. To them, he existed merely as a chauffeur. Yet careful observation revealed something peculiar about him. His clothing always appeared immaculate. His footwear remained spotless. Despite wearing modest garments, he consistently looked well-groomed. His posture stayed upright when standing and his gait suggested someone who hadn’t surrendered to despair. His expression remained tranquil, though never powerless. The difficulty stemmed from his employer—a woman who derived pleasure from belittling others.

Her name was Victoria Moreland. Victoria possessed wealth, volume, and arrogance. She favored expensive possessions. Being addressed as Madam pleased her. She relished watching people plead for assistance because it amplified her sense of importance. She operated a business creating luxury interior designs for affluent clients and transformed grand residences, corporate spaces, and hospitality establishments. Those in her circle prioritized designer labels, grooming, manicures, and social hierarchy at gatherings.

Within Victoria’s universe, Marcus occupied the lowest rung. That particular morning, Marcus positioned himself outside her imposing residence in Ikoyi, standing beside a black SUV large enough to dwarf a compact vehicle. The gate towered impressively, the compound sprawled widely, the gardens appeared perpetually prepared for distinguished visitors. Marcus glanced at his phone’s display, then polished an invisible mark on the vehicle’s door with a cloth. Though spotless already, he wiped it regardless.

Chapter 2

Marcus heard the sharp clicking of heels approaching from behind. “Are you blind?” Victoria’s voice sliced through the air like a blade. “Why hasn’t the car moved? I specifically said we’re departing at eight.” Marcus turned promptly. “Good morning, Madam.” “Good morning for whom?” Victoria snapped, adjusting her sunglasses despite the subdued sunlight. “Look at you standing there like some statue. If I’m late for this appointment, you’ll bear the consequences.” “Yes, Madam,” Marcus said.

Victoria examined him from head to toe as though inspecting defective furniture. “And what’s with that shirt? Do you own only one shirt in your entire existence?” Marcus glanced down at his garment. It was pristine, plain, presentable. “Madam, it’s clean,” he offered softly. Victoria laughed with cruelty. “Clean doesn’t equal presentable. You people don’t understand the distinction. Clean can still represent disgrace.” Marcus opened the rear door for her as though nothing had transpired. Victoria entered and crossed her leg.

As he moved toward the driver’s position, he heard her phone ring. She answered quickly, her demeanor transforming completely. “Hello, darling,” she sang into the device. “Yes, I’m departing now. This impossible traffic again. My chauffeur will suffer today.” Marcus’s grip tightened momentarily on the steering wheel. Then he relaxed. He drove out steadily and smoothly.

Inside the vehicle, Victoria conversed loudly on her phone, laughing and exclaiming as though wanting the entire neighborhood to hear. “Please don’t stress me,” she declared. “This appointment must succeed. You know my client is significant. Important people don’t tolerate errors.” She paused and rolled her eyes, observing Marcus through the rearview mirror as though he embodied the mistake she referenced.

Chapter 3

“Yes, I’m still employing that same chauffeur,” she continued. “I know, I know, but drivers are like footwear. You use them until they deteriorate.” Marcus kept his eyes fixed on the road. After several minutes, Victoria concluded the call and began scrolling through her phone. Then she started typing rapidly, smiling. Marcus recognized that smile. It was the expression she wore when scheming something. They arrived at a towering glass structure on Victoria Island.

Victoria emerged and adjusted her dress. She offered no gratitude. She simply extended her hand outward. “Bring my bag,” she commanded. “Yes, Madam,” Marcus said, retrieving it. They entered the building and walked into the lobby. People greeted Victoria hastily. “Good morning, Mrs. Moreland. Welcome, Madam.” Victoria nodded like royalty. Then she glanced at Marcus and hissed beneath her breath. “Stand aside,” she whispered. “Don’t obstruct my presence.” Marcus moved to the side. A suited man approached. He was staff. “Madam, your visitors are already upstairs,” he said. “Excellent,” Victoria replied. “Let’s proceed.”

As they entered the elevator, another woman stepped in simultaneously. She had lengthy hair and a glossy handbag, smelled of perfume and prosperity. She looked at Victoria and smiled. “Victoria.” “Hello,” the woman said. Victoria’s face brightened like a curtain opening. “Ah, Pamela,” Victoria exclaimed happily. “My dear, how are you?” They embraced and laughed.

Then Pamela looked at Marcus. “Is that your chauffeur?” she asked as though inquiring about air conditioning. “Yes,” Victoria said, waving dismissively. “That’s him.” Pamela studied Marcus’s face then his footwear. “Hmm. He appears quiet.” Victoria scoffed. “Quiet. He’s quiet because he has nothing to contribute. What would a chauffeur know? His function is driving and remaining silent.” Marcus stood motionless, eyes forward.

Chapter 4

Pamela leaned closer to Victoria and spoke as though Marcus couldn’t hear, despite his proximity. “I hope he doesn’t smell,” Pamela whispered. “Some of them do.” Victoria laughed heartily. “If he smells, I’ll lower the window.” Marcus’s jaw shifted slightly, as though swallowing something heavy. The elevator opened. They walked onto a luxurious office floor. Victoria entered a conference room with three people waiting. They were wealthy, too. Their clothing was sharp. Their phones were expensive.

Victoria smiled broadly. “Good morning. I apologize for the delay. Lagos traffic is merciless.” One of the men laughed. “No problem. Sit. Sit.” Victoria sat and began speaking rapidly about designs, costs, and timelines. She employed wide smiles, used sweet language and she acted as though she respected them. Marcus stood by the entrance holding her bag.

After a while, Victoria’s phone rang. She answered. “Yes,” she said, sounding irritated. Then her expression changed. “Ah, sweetheart, sorry. I’m in a meeting.” She listened. “Okay, okay,” she said. “I’ll call you back.” She ended the call, then turned to Marcus, angry. “Why didn’t you remind me that I have another appointment?” she barked. Marcus blinked. “Madam, you didn’t inform me.” “Are you talking back?” Victoria snapped.

The clients looked at each other, surprised. Victoria forced a smile. “Sorry, minor issue.” Then she leaned close to Marcus and whispered with heated anger. “Don’t ever embarrass me in front of people. Do you understand?” “Yes, Madam,” Marcus said. When the meeting concluded, they went back downstairs. Victoria walked briskly as though trying to escape her own shame.

Once they got into the car, she started complaining again. “You see why I hate working with poor people,” she said, throwing her phone on the seat. “You people are always sluggish.” Marcus didn’t answer. Victoria looked at him through the mirror. “Are you angry?” “No, Madam,” he said.

Chapter 5

“Good,” she said. “Because anger doesn’t change anything. Your life remains your life.” Marcus’s throat moved again. He kept driving. They reached a shopping center later that afternoon because Victoria wanted to shop. She entered with two other women, Pamela and another friend named Rita. They were both dressed as though attending a wedding. Marcus followed behind carrying shopping bags. As they walked, the women discussed parties, men, and money.

Their laughter was loud and proud. Pamela pointed at a dress in a shop window. “This is the type of dress I want for your birthday.” Victoria’s eyes lit up. “My birthday must be spectacular this year. Better than last year.” Rita smiled. “Of course, you are Victoria Moreland.” Victoria touched her chest. “Exactly. People must feel it. I want the kind of birthday that will make social media weep.” Pamela laughed. “Then invite the right people. No dull people, no cheap people.” Victoria nodded. “Only the best.” Rita looked behind and saw Marcus holding bags. “Your chauffeur is still following like a bodyguard,” she said, laughing.

Victoria turned and looked at Marcus as though he were a stain. “Marcus,” she called. “Yes, Madam,” he replied. “Are you tired?” she asked with false kindness. “No, Madam.” “Of course you aren’t tired,” Victoria said to her friends. “He has nothing else happening in his life. This is his whole world.” The friends laughed. Marcus stood still. He didn’t laugh, didn’t frown. He just waited. They entered another store. Victoria tried on shoes.

Pamela tried on bags. Rita tried on perfume. They kept talking and each word felt like stones being thrown at someone who couldn’t throw back. As they were leaving the shopping center, Victoria’s phone buzzed again. She checked a message and smiled that same scheming smile. Pamela noticed. “Why are you smiling like that?” Victoria raised her phone. “My birthday plan is getting sweeter.”

Chapter 6

Rita leaned in. “Tell us.” Victoria looked around as though about to share a secret. Then she said, “I want to do something amusing this year. Something that will make everyone talk.” Pamela grinned. “Like what?” Victoria glanced at Marcus. Then she lowered her voice, but she still spoke loud enough for him to hear. “I’m going to invite Marcus to my birthday,” she said. Pamela’s mouth opened. “Your chauffeur?” “Yes,” Victoria said laughing. “Imagine him among my wealthy guests.

Imagine the way he’ll stand lost holding a cup like a village person.” Rita burst out laughing. “Ah, that’s wicked.” Victoria shrugged as though it was nothing. “It will be fun. Let him enter the grand hall and see real life. Let him see how rich people behave. Maybe it will teach him to know his place.” Pamela clapped. “I like it. We’ll all watch him.” Rita laughed again. “He’ll embarrass himself.” Victoria’s eyes shined. “Exactly. And when he starts shaking, I’ll just smile and say, don’t worry. He’s my chauffeur.”

Pamela wiped tears from laughing. “Victoria, you’re not good.” Victoria lifted her chin. “Life isn’t fair. If you’re poor, you should accept it.” Marcus stood there holding shopping bags, listening to every word. Victoria turned to him suddenly. “Marcus,” she called again as though just remembering he was human. “Yes, Madam,” he said. Victoria smiled like a cat. “My birthday is next week,” she said. “You’re invited.” Marcus blinked once.

Pamela and Rita leaned forward waiting for him to panic. But Marcus didn’t panic. He didn’t beg, didn’t ask why. He just simply nodded and said, “Thank you, Madam.” The women froze for half a second. It wasn’t the reaction they wanted. Victoria’s smile became tight. “You will come, right?” “Yes, Madam,” Marcus said again calmly. Rita frowned. “He’s acting like it’s normal.”

Chapter 7

Pamela laughed nervously. “Maybe he doesn’t understand what it means.” Victoria waved her hand as though she didn’t care. But her eyes stayed on Marcus’s face. “Fine,” she said. “Just make sure you don’t disgrace me. Dress well. Don’t come looking like you slept inside a gutter.” Marcus nodded. “Yes, Madam.” Victoria turned and entered the car like a winner. Her friends followed, still laughing, still excited for the joke they believed was coming. Marcus entered the driver’s seat and started the engine.

As he drove them back to the large house, the women kept talking about the party, about who would attend, about how Marcus would behave. But Marcus didn’t join their laughter. He just drove. His face stayed calm. Yet inside him, something was awakening. And as the sun started descending and the city lights came on, Marcus’s eyes stayed fixed on the road as though he had already chosen what he would do next.

Marcus drove Victoria and her friends back to the house in silence. Inside the car, laughter filled the air. The women talked over each other, still excited about the birthday party and the joke they believed would be entertaining. Every few seconds, Victoria laughed the loudest as though wanting to remind everyone that she was in control. “Can you imagine his face?” Pamela said, shaking her head. “All those wealthy people and your chauffeur just standing there.” Rita added, “He’ll probably hold the wine glass with two hands.” They burst into laughter again.

Victoria leaned back and crossed her legs. “Let him come. I want to enjoy it thoroughly. Life has been too boring lately.” Marcus heard every word, but his face didn’t change. He kept his eyes on the road and his hands steady on the steering wheel. When they reached the house, Victoria emerged first. She offered no gratitude. She never did.

Chapter 8

She walked inside as though the house belonged to the world and the world belonged to her. Marcus parked the car properly, locked it, and followed behind to deposit the bags inside. After that, he quietly walked out through the small gate meant for staff. The street was calm. The evening air was warm.

Marcus walked slowly to the bus stop, carrying nothing but his thoughts. On the bus ride home, he sat by the window and watched the city pass by. Large buildings turned into smaller ones. Bright lights turned into dim bulbs. Smooth roads turned into rough streets. When he finally disembarked, he walked into a narrow street and stopped in front of a small building. The paint was aged. The stairs were cracked, but it was home.

He climbed the stairs and entered his one-room apartment. The room was quiet. A small bed sat by the wall. A table stood near the window. A mirror hung beside the door. Everything was simple, clean, and arranged. Marcus dropped his keys on the table and sat on the bed. For a long moment, he just sat there breathing slowly. Then he laughed. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t happy. It was short and tired. “So she invited me,” he said softly to himself. “As a joke.” He stood up and walked to the mirror. He looked at his face. Really looked at it. “You still look the same?” he said quietly. “Nothing has changed.”

He turned away from the mirror and walked to a small wooden box under his bed. He dragged it out slowly and placed it on the floor. The box was old. The edges were worn. The lock had long stopped working. Marcus knelt down and opened it. Inside were things he hadn’t touched in years. Old photographs, a folded suit bag, a small card with his name printed on it. He picked up one photograph. It was him, younger, taller, standing under bright lights. People were clapping.

Chapter 9

He was wearing a fitted suit and walking on a long stage. Marcus’s fingers trembled slightly. “That was a long time ago,” he whispered. He picked another photograph. In this one, he was smiling broadly. A woman stood beside him, holding his arm. His mother. “You said I should never bend my head,” he said. “You said life can push, but I should not break.” He placed the photograph down gently. Then he opened the suit bag. Inside was a three-piece suit, dark, clean, well-kept. He touched the fabric slowly, as though touching something alive.

“This suit,” he said quietly. “You carried me to places I never thought I would see.” His phone buzzed suddenly. Marcus stood up quickly as though he had been caught doing something wrong. He checked the screen. It was a message from Victoria. “Don’t forget my birthday is next week. You will come early.” Marcus stared at the message for a long time. Then he typed back. “Yes, Madam.” He dropped the phone on the bed and sat down again.

For a few seconds, doubt tried to enter his heart. “What if she’s right?” he asked himself. “What if I embarrass myself?” He stood up again and faced the mirror. Slowly, he straightened his shoulders. “No,” he said. “I didn’t embarrass myself before. I won’t start now.” The next morning, Marcus arrived at work early as usual. He washed the car, wiped the seats, and checked the tires.

Victoria came out of the house talking on the phone. “Yes, everything is set,” she said loudly. “The hall is booked. The guest list is full. This birthday will shake Lagos.” She ended the call and looked at Marcus. “You,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Did you hear what I said yesterday?” “Yes, Madam,” Marcus replied. “You’re coming to my birthday,” she said slowly as though explaining to a child. “Don’t disgrace me.” “I understand, Madam,” Marcus said. Victoria rolled her eyes. “You better.”

Chapter 10

As they drove out, Victoria kept talking about the party. She talked about the hall, the food, the guests, and how important it was. “You know,” she said, adjusting her hair. “People will be coming from everywhere. Important people. You must not talk anyhow. Just greet and keep quiet.” “Yes, Madam.” “Don’t eat like you’re starving,” she added. “And don’t ask questions.” “Yes, Madam.” She looked at him through the mirror. “Why are you always saying yes like a robot?” Marcus met her eyes in the mirror for a second. “Because that is my job, Madam.”

Victoria smiled, pleased. “At least you know.” Later that day, Victoria met with her friends again at a cafe. Marcus waited outside in the car. Inside, Pamela and Rita were already there. “Victoria!” Pamela shouted. “We were just talking about your chauffeur.” Victoria laughed and sat down. “That man will give us free comedy.” Rita leaned forward. “Is he really coming?” “Yes,” Victoria said. “I invited him myself.” Pamela smiled broadly. “I can’t wait. I’ll sit where I can see him clearly.” Rita added, “I hope he doesn’t wear his work clothes.”

Victoria waved her hand. “Even if he borrows a suit, it will still show.” They laughed again. Outside, Marcus sat quietly, looking at the cafe door. He could see their mouths moving through the glass. He knew they were talking about him. His phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from an unknown number. “Hello, Marcus. This is Kevin. We trained together years ago. Someone saw your picture online. Are you still modeling?” Marcus’s heart skipped. He typed slowly. “I stopped. I drive now.” The reply came fast.

“Driving doesn’t erase talent. If you ever need anything, call me.” Marcus stared at the message. Then he locked his phone. That evening, after work, Marcus didn’t go straight home. He stopped by a small tailor shop. The signboard was old. The tailor was an elderly man.

Chapter 11

“Good evening, sir,” Marcus said. The tailor looked up. “Good evening, young man. How can I help you?” Marcus opened his bag and brought out the suit. “I need this to fit perfectly,” he said. The tailor’s eyes widened. “This is a fine suit.” Marcus nodded. “It means a lot to me.” The tailor smiled. “Then we will do it well.” As Marcus walked out of the shop, the sun was setting again. The city lights began to glow.

At home that night, Marcus sat on his bed and stared at the wall. “This invitation was meant to shame me,” he said softly. “But it will not.” He lay down slowly, eyes open. In another part of the city, Victoria lay on her large bed, smiling as she scrolled through pictures of the event hall. She whispered to herself, “This birthday will be unforgettable.” Both of them were right, but for very different reasons. The day of the birthday party finally arrived. From early morning, Victoria’s house was already noisy. Workers moved in and out. Makeup artists arrived with boxes. Hair stylists dragged long bags behind them. Everyone greeted Victoria with soft voices and wide smiles. “Good morning, Madam. Happy birthday in advance, Madam.”

Victoria sat on a tall chair in front of a mirror wearing a robe while someone fixed her hair. “Yes, yes,” she said, waving her hand. “Make sure everything is perfect. I don’t want any mistake today.”

Outside, Marcus stood beside the car, waiting as usual. Victoria walked out after some time, dressed in a fine outfit, shining as though she wanted the sun to respect her. “Marcus,” she called. “Yes, Madam,” he replied. “You will drop me at the hall and go home,” she said. “Don’t come early. Come later. I don’t want people seeing you too soon.” Marcus nodded. “All right, Madam.” She looked at him again. “And remember, dress well. Don’t disgrace me.” “Yes, Madam.” As they drove, Victoria talked non-stop about the party.

Chapter 12

“Today is not for mistakes,” she said. “People are coming from everywhere. Important people. You know how Lagos is.” “Yes, Madam.” She smiled to herself. “This party will be talked about for years.” They arrived at the event hall before noon. The place was huge. White and gold decorations filled the space. Long tables stood in rows. Flowers were everywhere. The lights were bright and clean.

Victoria stepped out of the car and smiled broadly. “This is it,” she said proudly. She turned to Marcus. “Go. I will see you later.” Marcus watched her walk inside, surrounded by people calling her name. Then he drove away quietly. Hours later, evening came. The hall slowly filled with guests. Expensive cars lined up outside. Music played softly in the background. People dressed in shiny clothes walked in, laughing and greeting each other.

Victoria stood near the center, greeting guests like a queen. “Ah, welcome. Thank you for coming. You look beautiful.” Her friends Pamela and Rita stood close to her. Pamela looked around. “This place is full already.” Victoria smiled proudly. “As it should be.” Rita leaned close. “So where is our main guest?” Victoria laughed. “Relax. He will come. Let him suffer a little first.” They laughed together. Time passed. More guests arrived. Plates of food moved around. Drinks flowed freely. Some guests began to ask questions. “Madam, happy birthday,” a woman said. “But where is your chauffeur? I heard you invited him.”

Victoria smiled as though she was waiting for that question. “Oh, he will come. He’s probably still confused.” The woman laughed. “This will be interesting.” Across the hall, Pamela pointed at the door. “I’m watching that entrance. I don’t want to miss it.” Rita nodded. “Same here.” Minutes turned into an hour. Still no sign of Marcus. Victoria began to enjoy the waiting too much. “Maybe he’s scared,” she said loudly. “Maybe he borrowed clothes that don’t fit.”

Chapter 13

Pamela laughed. “Or maybe he’s still practicing how to greet wealthy people.” Rita added, “He’ll probably call you for help.” Victoria checked her phone. No missed calls. She smiled. “Let him come when he wants. The longer he waits, the better.” Inside another part of the city, Marcus stood in front of a mirror. The room was quiet. He was dressed in his three-piece suit. The tailor had done an excellent job. The suit fit him as though it was made for his body alone. His shoes were polished. His hair was neat. He looked at himself carefully. “You can do this,” he said softly.

He adjusted his collar and took a deep breath. His phone buzzed. A message from Victoria. “Where are you? Don’t be late.” Marcus read it and typed back calmly. “I am on my way, Madam.” Back at the hall, Victoria showed the message to her friends. “See,” she said. “He’s coming.” Pamela clapped lightly. “Good. I was getting bored.” The music grew louder. The MC took the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced. “Let’s celebrate the birthday queen of the night.” Cheers filled the hall. Victoria danced slowly, enjoying every second.

Cameras flashed. Phones recorded. After the dance, she returned to her seat, breathing lightly. She looked around again. “Still no Marcus.” “Where is he?” Rita whispered. Victoria frowned slightly. “He said he’s coming.” Another friend joined them. “People are asking about your chauffeur.” Victoria laughed. “Tell them to wait.” Time passed again. Guests began to settle. Some sat down. Some stood in groups talking. Pamela leaned closer. “Hope he doesn’t disappoint us.” “He won’t,” Victoria said. “Disappointment is his nature.”

Then the hall door opened slightly as some staff walked in with more trays. Everyone glanced briefly, then looked away. Victoria sighed. “This man is wasting my time.” She picked up her phone and called Marcus. The phone rang. Marcus answered calmly. “Yes, Madam.” “Where are you?” she asked sharply. “I am close, Madam,” he replied.

Chapter 14

“You better be,” she said. “Don’t come looking foolish.” “Yes, Madam.” She ended the call and shook her head. “Imagine,” she said to her friends. “Still stressing me on my birthday.” Pamela smiled. “The wait will be worth it.” Suddenly, the music lowered. Not because the DJ planned it, but because people near the door started murmuring. Small whispers moved across the hall like wind.

Victoria noticed. She turned slowly. “What is happening?” she asked. Pamela’s eyes stayed on the entrance. Rita stood up slightly from her seat. Then the whole door opened fully. The room began to quiet down. Heads turned. Phones slowly lifted. Victoria felt something strange in her chest. She stood up, eyes fixed on the door. For a moment, no one spoke.

The door stayed open and someone stepped inside. The hall went silent. The person who stepped inside was Marcus. For a second, nobody moved. The music stayed low. The lights stayed bright, but the hall felt frozen, as though time had stopped just to look at him. Marcus walked in—is that your chauffeur?” Victoria didn’t answer.

Chapter 15

Rita leaned forward, eyes wide. “No, that can’t be him.” Marcus took another step. Another. The space around him seemed to open on its own. People moved aside without being asked. Some smiled at him. Some stared in shock. Victoria’s heart began to beat fast. “That’s not possible,” she muttered. “That’s not how he looks.” Pamela whispered again, her voice low. “Victoria, that is Marcus.” Victoria swallowed hard. “No,” she said. “No, no, no.” Marcus stopped a few steps into the hall.

He looked around calmly, like someone taking in a room he belonged in. His eyes moved slowly, not greedy, not scared. Then his eyes met Victoria’s. For a brief moment, everything between them flashed. Every insult, every laugh, every time she talked down on him. Marcus’s face didn’t change. He nodded once politely. “Good evening, Madam,” he said. His voice was calm, clear, steady. People around them heard it. “Madam,” someone whispered. Pamela’s mouth fell open. Victoria forced a laugh that sounded wrong. “Marcus,” she said loudly—you came.” “Yes, Madam,” he replied. “Happy birthday.” Silence followed his words.

Then someone clapped. Slowly, another person joined. Soon a few claps spread, confused but impressed. Victoria felt her knees weaken slightly. She grabbed the back of her chair. Rita leaned close and whispered, “Why does he look like this?” Victoria hissed back. “I don’t know.” A woman nearby turned to her friend. “That man is handsome.” Another whispered, “His walk? Did you see his walk?” Marcus took a few more steps forward.

A man in a cream suit stepped out of the crowd and smiled at him. “Good evening,” the man said warmly. “Welcome.” “Good evening, sir,” Marcus replied. The man nodded with respect. “You look sharp.” “Thank you, sir.” Victoria watched the exchange, her stomach tight. “That man doesn’t greet me like that,” she muttered. “He doesn’t talk to me like that.”

Chapter 16

Pamela didn’t answer. Her eyes were still on Marcus. Another woman stepped closer to Marcus, smiling broadly. “Are you one of the guests?” she asked. “Yes,” Marcus said politely. “Oh,” the woman laughed softly. “You look amazing.” “Thank you,” he replied. She giggled and touched her hair. “Please, can we take a picture?” Marcus hesitated for a second, then nodded. “All right.” The camera flashed. Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. “What is happening?” she whispered. Rita shook her head slowly. “This is not what we planned.” The MC, still holding the microphone, looked confused. “Ah,” he said slowly. “Welcome. Welcome.

Please make yourself comfortable.” Marcus nodded again and moved toward the sitting area. As he passed by Victoria, she spoke quickly. “Marcus,” she said in a low voice, forcing a smile. “You didn’t tell me you had this kind of suit.” Marcus looked at her. “You didn’t ask, Madam,” he replied gently. The words were simple, but they landed heavy. Victoria’s smile froze. Pamela stared at Marcus as he walked away. “Since when is he this tall?” she asked quietly. Rita replied, “Or this calm.” They watched as Marcus took a seat at an empty table. Almost immediately, two women joined him. “Can we sit here?” one asked. “Yes,” Marcus said.

They smiled and sat. Victoria’s chest felt tight. “This is my party,” she said under her breath. “Why is everyone looking at him?” Pamela didn’t respond. She was too busy watching Marcus laugh lightly at something one of the women said. “That laugh,” Pamela murmured. “It’s nice.” Victoria turned sharply. “Pamela.” Pamela blinked. “What?” “You’re staring,” Victoria said. Pamela looked away quickly. “I was just surprised.” Across the hall, a group of men whispered among themselves. “That guy has presence.” “He looks like a model.” “Who invited him?” Someone answered, “The celebrant. He’s her chauffeur.” Laughter followed, but it wasn’t mocking. It was disbelief.

Chapter 17

Victoria overheard and felt heat rise to her face. She marched toward Marcus’s table. “Marcus,” she said loudly. “Come here.” The women at the table looked up. Marcus stood calmly. “Yes, Madam.” “Why are you sitting there?” she asked, smiling too hard. “You should stay close. People may need you.” Marcus nodded. “All right, Madam.” He turned to the women. “Excuse me.” “No problem,” one of them said, still smiling. “We’ll talk later.” Marcus walked back toward Victoria.

As he stood beside her, the difference between them felt strange. He looked confident. She looked unsure. Victoria leaned closer and whispered, “What are you doing?” “Attending the party,” Marcus replied softly. She frowned. “Don’t overdo it.” “I’m not, Madam,” he said. Pamela watched them closely. “Marcus,” Pamela suddenly said, smiling. “You clean up well.” “Thank you, Madam,” he replied. Her smile stayed longer than needed. Victoria noticed. She laughed loudly. “Ah. He borrowed the suit. You know drivers.” Marcus said nothing. A man nearby turned and asked, “Borrowed? From where?” Victoria waved her hand. “You know, somewhere.” The man nodded slowly, not convinced.

Music started again, louder this time. People began to dance. Marcus stood quietly watching. A woman approached him again. “Would you like to dance?” Marcus smiled politely. “Maybe later.” She laughed. “I’ll be waiting.” Victoria felt something slip from her grip. This wasn’t the night she planned. Pamela leaned closer again, her voice softer now. “Victoria, you never told me your chauffeur was like this.” Victoria snapped. “Like what?” Pamela paused, then said, “Like this.” She gestured toward Marcus, who was now talking calmly with two men who listened with interest. Victoria watched them laugh at something he said.

For the first time that night, she felt small. And across the hall, as Marcus spoke and smiled under the bright lights, one thing became clear. The joke had changed direction, and it was no longer funny for the person who planned it.

Chapter 18

The music grew louder and the party moved into full swing. People danced. Glasses clinked. Laughter filled the hall. But even with all the noise, something had clearly changed. The center of attention was no longer Victoria. It was Marcus. At first, Victoria tried to ignore it. She smiled for pictures and danced when the camera came close.

She laughed loudly so people would hear her, but her eyes kept moving on their own, always finding Marcus. He was standing near the side now, talking with a small group. Two women leaned in close to him, laughing at whatever he said. One of them touched his arm lightly as she spoke. Victoria’s jaw tightened. Pamela noticed it too. “Ah,” Pamela said softly. “People really like him.” Victoria forced a laugh. “They like novelty. It will pass.” But it didn’t pass. Another woman joined the group around Marcus.

Then another. Soon it looked like a small circle had formed with Marcus at the center. Rita leaned close to Victoria. “Your chauffeur is becoming popular.” Victoria snap—like for fun?” Marcus shook his head gently. “For work.” She stared at him, surprised, then laughed softly. “I never would have guessed.” Another woman jumped in. “Same here. You carry yourself well.” “Thank you,” Marcus replied. A man nearby listened closely. “You don’t talk like most drivers.” Marcus met his eyes. “People are many things, sir. Work is just one of them.” The man nodded slowly. “True.”

Chapter 19

Victoria overheard that last part. She stepped forward quickly. “Marcus,” she said with a sharp smile. “Are you okay? You’ve been standing for long.” “Yes, Madam,” Marcus said calmly. The party continued late into the night, but the atmosphere had fundamentally shifted. What began as Victoria’s carefully orchestrated humiliation had transformed into Marcus’s quiet triumph. People exchanged his contact information. Photographers captured his image. Whispers of admiration replaced the anticipated mockery.

As the evening wound down and guests departed, Victoria stood alone near the empty cake table, watching Marcus say goodbye to several well-wishers. Her friends had grown quiet, their earlier excitement dissolved into uncomfortable silence. In the following weeks, Marcus’s life changed dramatically. The photographs from the party circulated online. Modeling agencies reached out. Opportunities materialized. He accepted a contract, resigned from his position as Victoria’s driver, and stepped back into the world he’d once left behind. Victoria’s business, meanwhile, began to falter.

Clients whispered about her treatment of staff. Contracts weren’t renewed. Her social circle shrank. The woman who had delighted in humiliating others discovered that reputation, once damaged, proves difficult to repair. Months later, Marcus walked a major runway to thunderous applause. In her house, Victoria watched the broadcast alone. The man she’d diminished now stood tall before the world, not because he’d sought revenge, but because he’d never forgotten who he was.

That night, Marcus returned to his apartment and opened the old wooden box one final time. He looked at his mother’s photograph and smiled. “I didn’t break,” he whispered. “You were right.” He closed the box gently and placed it back under the bed, no longer needing reassurance from the past. The future had finally arrived, and he was ready.

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