Wheels of Love

Chapter four: Driver's backstory.

**Manhattan, four months ago**

Robert Wolfe sat on the floor, leaning heavily on the Poltrona Frau armchair. The opulent living room was a stark contrast to his current state of mind. He reached for the letter on the sleek glass table. It was probably going to be the last letter he wrote. He read it one last time.

“This would do,” he sighed, dropping it back on the table and placing the Mont Blanc pen on the letter. He had added more lines to the letter with each gulp of wine. An empty bottle lay on the floor, and an opened Macallan 18, halfway consumed, rested on the table. Its amber liquid reflected the soft glow of the large crystal chandelier above.

He took out a powdery substance and emptied it into the glass cup and smiled a bitter smile. It would rid him of the pain and the mire he had drowned in.

Robert's hand trembled slightly as he poured himself a generous measure. He shook the glass, the rich aroma of the whiskey filling the air. The comforting warmth of the drink had served as a reminder of his solitude. Now, it would do even more.

“Goodbye earth,” he muttered, and drank the whole contents in two great gulps.

A few minutes later, a maid rushed into the living room when she heard her boss coughing uncontrollably. She screamed with terror and rushed to him when she saw him sputtering blood.

He had excused almost all the house help that morning and had been acting strangely all day. Only Taro, the Japanese girl, stayed.

“You, … I… I warned you not…to ... to …” He choked on his words and coughed heavily.

“Sir, what you do?” Taro asked in her usual bad English. Tears were streaming down her cheek.

“Leave!” He ordered. He was still arrogant even in the face of death. He coughed violently again.

“Sir!” Taro broke down into sobs. Robert was breathing heavily and strength was leaving him. He fixed her a blank stare, as the poison took its toll.

Taro suddenly remembered she had an anti-poison her grandfather had given her. She had kept it and always took it with her everywhere she went. Taro ran downstairs, a race against time. She got to her room in record time and checked her bag. It was not there. She emptied all the closets and checked the nightstand. Then she remembered Lena had borrowed the bag.

It was a beautifully made Japanese handbag.

She rushed to Lena's room; luckily, the door was opened. The bag was on the nightstand. She took it and felt the hidden pouch; the antidote was there. She dashed upstairs. Her boss was sprawled on the floor, his head lolled to one side. Luckily, he was still breathing, although slightly.

She emptied the bag on the table. A vibrator and a packet of condoms tumbled out among other things. She rushed to the wine shelf and took a can of fruit juice and another glass. She diluted the medicine with the juice and forced it into his mouth. His teeth were clamping together, so she used the pen to separate them; forcing it between his teeth.

“Kore ga iyashi omotara shimasu yō ni,” she prayed silently as she administered the anti-poison. It means, “I hope this brings you healing.”

Robert's friend, Craig Hanley, walked in at that moment. The scene he met was shocking. Condoms were littered on the floor, and a vibrator was on the expensive B&B Italian table. His friend was lying unconscious on the floor, and a maid straddled him. His white shirt was stained with blood.

“Hey, What happened? What did you do to him?”

She jumped aside. “Me. No,” she shook her head and pointed to her boss. “He do it. I helping.”

“What the f**k are you saying? He did what…?” Craig's eyes caught the letter on the table. Realization hit him, but he couldn't process why condoms were littered on the rug and what the vibrator was doing on the floor — or had been doing.

“s**t. Damn it!” He quickly called an ambulance and took his friend downstairs.

Craig phoned Richard Wolfe, Robert's dad, and informed him of the latest development. After that, he called the police.

Taro's anti-poison had done a great job, but she was arrested by the NYPD for alleged hypnotizing and s****l assault. Taro was kept under custody, awaiting trial, which would be when Robert is fully recovered.

The next day in the immaculate white hospital room, Richard Wolfe sat beside his son and watched over him. The doctor had assured him that, as of the moment, Robert was only sleeping.

“How was the great beyond, son?” His father teased him when he finally sat up, after six hours of sleep.

“Father,” Robert smiled weakly, ashamed before his father. His mouth was sour, and his body was still throbbing with pains from lying down for too long.

His mum was in Paris. It had been decided that she shouldn't be informed, because of her heart issues and the way she'd react.

Robert spent only a week at the Mount Sinai Hospital and was discharged.

The next few weeks were filled with a flurry of activity. Visitors, mostly from the business world, the media, and many other agencies that could make a man lose his s**t. The news had spread like wildfire. He bought an article about himself and read it.

“Billionaire who called off wedding on eve last month, allegedly commits suicide.”

Other headlines read: “Billionaire r***d by maid; the true story behind….”

There were many other false publications from attention seekers, about how a maid f****d him up, and they were linking it to his cancelled wedding. For the sake of his mental health, he chose to avoid the news and the media.

His father walked in and took the opposite chair that cool evening. He had moved in since the incident, to take care of his son's business and welfare.

His eyes caught the headlines of the newspaper Robert was reading.

“You made the headlines again, Robert. Second month in a row.”

“I did,” Robert said blankly. He had not fully recovered from depression.

He had shaved and was looking a bit better, but his eyes were still hollow and lifeless.

“Yeah, you did. This time you landed yourself in the negative spotlight.”

Robert’s descent into depression was triggered by a series of personal and professional setbacks. He never had a satisfying relationship, maybe due to his curiosity and access to state-of-the-art technologies. All the women were only attracted to him because of his money and handsomeness. No one seemed to seek the connection he craved. He had caught them all from the comfort of his office; Lisa, Selene, Ariana, Melissa and, most recently, Mia.

When he caught Mia red-handed bouncing on Luther's loin, going raw and hard on his d**k, on their would-be matrimonial bed, on the eve of their wedding. It was more than he could bear.

Simultaneously, Robert's professional life had also spiraled downward. His closest confidant and manager had been embezzling funds from the company.

This betrayal shook him to his core and stalled the progress of the new branch company he was building. He faced a profound sense of emptiness and isolation, making him question his judgment and trust in people.

The loneliness that followed was suffocating, as he realized that many of his relationships were superficial, driven by his wealth rather than genuine connection.

The events left him feeling vulnerable and alone, leading him to seek solace in alcohol. The luxurious surroundings of his home, once a source of pride, became a hollow reminder of his isolation and the fragility of his happiness.

His once-chiseled features became gaunt, his eyes hollow and lifeless. The vibrant, confident billionaire was now a shadow of his former self. He avoided mirrors, unable to face the man he had become.

The depression was suffocating. He stopped attending meetings and stopped answering calls. The wedding was called off, and the news had spread like wildfire. Robert’s life was unraveling, and he felt powerless to stop it.

“You both could work things out after the wedding,” Craig had tried to talk him out of calling off the wedding. The absurdity of the suggestion had gotten him riled up.

“Cut that crap, Craig. You f*****g forgot the rules, huh?”

“What rules?”

“One,” Robert counted with his fingers, “never forgive a cheating woman.”

“Rules are made to be broken. This is the fourth time, Robert.”

“Damn it! She cheated on the eve of our wedding.”

“I never said she didn't.”

“Then what are you saying, Craig?”

“I'm saying she won't try it again.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Mia is a good woman.”

“Whose side are you?”

“Your's. As a friend, I'm tired of all this. Don't lose a good woman because she cheated once.”

“She sent you, right?”

“No, but for Christ's sake, Robert, the wedding is all fixed. Some of the guests have even arrived and are lodged in hotels.”

“I don't give a shit.”

“This might end up hurting you or your reputation.”

“Craig, I don't care! Okay! Fine! I'll forgive her on one condition.”

“What condition?” Craig's face lit up in anticipation. He would do anything to help the situation.

“I will offer you one million bucks, and f**k your wife in front of you.”

“What…?” Craig's expression changed in a second. “I think you're running mad,” he replied, burning with anger. There was a hint of panic in his voice, the kind of panic that comes when one million dollars is involved.

“Deal or no deal?”