Chapter 2168
The next morning broke softly over the weekend, sunlight pooling across the driveway like warm syrup.
Before Felix had even rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Miranda ushered him into the back seat of a black sedan bound for yet another tutor’s house—another battlefield, another chance to stay ahead.
Felix slumped against the leather seat, lashes fluttering as he drifted in and out of a shallow nap.
During the drive, the smartwatch on his wrist kept chiming, each bright beep slicing through the cramped car like a needle. Traffic was gridlocked, yet Felix still accused the chauffeur of poor driving.
The man swallowed his irritation. He relied on this job to feed his family. Arguing with a child—especially this child—was trouble he couldn’t afford.
“In that case, I can pull over and walk with you,” he offered, grasping for a compromise.
Felix scanned the road ahead. Cars were packed bumper to bumper. There was no shoulder, no alley, nowhere to squeeze the sedan aside. Even reversing was impossible—the vehicle was boxed in on all sides.
“Then hurry up,” Felix said, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. “Or I’ll complain to Mommy and have her fire you.”
Panic flickered across the chauffeur’s face. He craned his neck, searching desperately for an opening that didn’t exist, the steering wheel slick beneath his sweaty palms.
Cars clogged every direction—no way forward, no way out.
“Oh no… what now?” he muttered before turning to Felix. “Mr. Felix, it should be fine if we arrive a little late, right?”
Felix snorted. “What do you think? You know my mother despises tardiness more than anything. Think carefully.”
The chauffeur let out a defeated sigh that fogged the windshield. “Argh!”
A sly glint flashed through Felix’s eyes, quick as a struck match.
“I’ll get out and walk the rest of the way alone,” he said smoothly. “Don’t worry—I’ve walked this block countless times. The house isn’t far. Once I arrive, problem solved.”
“What? No. I can’t allow that,” the chauffeur protested. “If something happened to you on my watch, I’d never be forgiven.”
Felix leaned forward, his voice velvet-soft and venomous. “Then prepare to be dismissed. Mommy has friends everywhere. You might find it hard to chauffeur wealthy clients again.”
The words stunned the man. This small boy wielded threats instead of toys—no sympathy, only leverage.
“Stop worrying,” Felix added, already reaching for the door handle. “I’ll attend my lesson. I won’t tell Mommy anything about this.”
There were only a few hundred meters left, and no better solution. The chauffeur finally nodded in defeat as Felix slipped into the snowy air, coat billowing, footsteps brisk toward the distant porch light.
“All right,” the man called after him. “Once you arrive, promise you’ll text or call.”
“You’ve got my word,” Felix replied brightly. The next second, he was gone—shoulders hunched against the cold, sneakers slapping the pavement as he ran.
He sprinted until the hum of the sedan faded behind him. Only then did he veer sharply onto a side street.
Class was the last place he planned to be today.
While weaving through late-morning traffic, he had already called his tutor, coughing dramatically and claiming he wasn’t feeling well. Moments later, he texted the chauffeur, assuring him he had arrived safely at the tutor’s house.
With both lies in place, neither teacher nor driver suspected a thing.
Felix flagged down a passing taxi, slid inside, and told the driver to take him straight to the Smith residence.
Blinking fully awake, he raised his wrist. Dozens of messages crowded the class group chat—everyone bragging they had already arrived at Elliot’s house and were getting ready to play.
A sharp pang of envy pierced his chest. He imagined the laughter, the snacks, the secret competitions, and an impatient yearning surged up his throat like a shout he could barely swallow.
Outside, the main road lay buried beneath a crust of snow. Tire tracks carved uneven grooves, forcing the chauffeur—still stuck behind—to inch forward with exaggerated caution.
According to the dashboard map, they were only one corner away from the tutor’s house when every lane collapsed into an unmoving knot of headlights.
Up front, the chauffeur’s shoulders tightened until the fabric of his gray uniform creaked.
“What now?” he muttered, drumming the steering wheel. “By the time this clears, we’ll be terribly late.”
“I’ll walk,” Felix had offered earlier, his voice light and innocent, eyes gleaming with calculation.
“Absolutely not,” the chauffeur had blurted. “Mrs. Rainsworth made it clear I’m to deliver you to the tutor’s door myself.”
Felix’s brows had drawn together, darkening his boyish face. “Fine. But if I’m late, I’ll mention to Mommy how slowly you drove.”
Color drained from the man’s cheeks. He’d heard the stories—Felix was spoiled, sharp-tongued, and a nightmare when crossed.