The car finally stopped at a massive gate in front of a grand mansion. After the long ride, it was getting late, and the darkness seemed to envelop the vehicle, making the mansion look even more imposing. The driver, weary from the journey, honked the horn twice. The gate opened promptly, as if it had been waiting for their arrival, allowing the car to enter.
As the car rolled slowly up the driveway, the driver glanced in the rearview mirror at Nikky, who was slumped against the window, fast asleep. Her face, illuminated by the soft glow of the mansion's exterior lights, looked peaceful, unaware of the events about to unfold. The driver sighed, a mix of exhaustion and dread filling his mind. He knew Mike's temper and hoped the night would pass without incident.
The car came to a halt in front of the grand entrance. The driver, reluctant to wake Nikky, stepped out quietly and began retrieving her belongings from the trunk. He moved with care, his actions gentle to avoid disturbing her slumber. By then, Nikky was deep in a dream, far from the reality of the cold night air and the stern-faced man walking towards the car.
Mike emerged from the mansion with an air of authority, his steps echoing on the paved driveway. His eyes were sharp, scanning the scene with an unyielding gaze. He approached the driver with an expression that demanded respect.
"Good evening, sir," the driver greeted, his voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at his insides.
Mike didn't acknowledge the greeting. "Where is the girl?" he asked, his tone clipped and impatient.
The driver swallowed hard, feeling a bead of sweat form on his forehead. "I'm sorry, sir, but she is still in the car," he said, his voice trembling slightly. He quickly moved to open the door, hoping to avoid any confrontation.
"No, leave her," Mike ordered, a small, calculating smile playing on his lips.
The driver hesitated, confused by the command but too afraid to question it. He stepped back, watching as Mike turned and walked back into the mansion. Moments later, Mike reappeared, flanked by several maids who carried bowls of water. The driver's heart sank; he knew what was coming next and felt powerless to stop it.
Mike gestured towards the car. "Open the door," he instructed the driver.
With shaking hands, the driver complied. He opened the door, revealing Nikky still sound asleep. Her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her breathing, a stark contrast to the tension surrounding her.
Mike's eyes narrowed as he looked at Nikky. He turned to the maids, his voice low but commanding. "When I say 'go,' pour the water on her."
The maids nodded, their expressions a mix of fear and resignation. "Yes, sir," they muttered in unison.
"Go," Mike signaled, his voice sharp and decisive.
The maids moved as one, raising their bowls, ready to douse Nikky. But in a sudden, instinctive reaction, Nikky woke up. Her eyes flew open, and in a blur of motion, she pushed Mike aside, reclaiming her original position. The water, meant for her, splashed all over Mike instead.
The shock on Mike's face was priceless. For a moment, he stood frozen, drenched and humiliated. Then his shock turned to rage. "Are you crazy? I told you to pour the water on her, not me!" he shouted, his voice booming with fury. "You're all fired!"
The maids trembled, their faces pale. "We're sorry, sir," they chorused, their voices quivering.
"Save your apologies," Mike snapped, his eyes blazing with anger.
Nikky, now fully awake, watched the scene unfold. Despite the chaos, a smile tugged at her lips. "The wicked schemes always backfire," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with satisfaction.
Mike turned towards her, his eyes narrowing. He caught her laughing, and his anger flared even more. "Hey, what's so funny?" he demanded.
Nikky didn't hold back. "I'm laughing at your stupidity," she replied, her laughter ringing out freely. There was something liberating about the moment, a rare chance to challenge the authority that had always seemed unbreakable.
"How dare you? I am your boss," Mike commanded, his voice shaking with indignation.
"Oh, the crazy boss," Nikky taunted, her eyes sparkling with mischief. There was a defiance in her tone, a refusal to be cowed by his power.
Mike's face turned a shade of crimson. He lunged towards her, his movements fueled by anger, but Nikky was quicker. She darted away, her heart pounding in her chest. The thrill of the chase added to her exhilaration.
In his haste, Mike slipped on the wet floor, crashing down with a loud thud. The sight was almost comical, and Nikky couldn't help but burst into laughter. "You deserve it, and even more!" she shouted, her voice echoing with unrestrained joy.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!" Mike screamed suddenly, then fell silent, his body going limp. The sudden change was jarring, and the laughter died in Nikky's throat.
Concern replaced her amusement. She approached him cautiously, her heart racing. "Ooh, what's wrong with him?" she muttered, reaching out to touch him. Her fingers trembled as she placed them on his shoulder, but he didn't move. Panic surged through her, and she screamed for help.
The guards, alerted by her cries, rushed to her aid. They moved swiftly, lifting Mike's unresponsive body and carrying him towards the mansion. Nikky followed, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She felt a pang of guilt, wondering if her actions had gone too far.
In the grand hall, the atmosphere was tense. The maids whispered among themselves, their faces etched with worry. Nikky's heart ached with a mix of fear and regret. She had wanted to stand up for herself, to show Mike that he couldn't treat her so cruelly, but she hadn't meant for it to end like this.
As they reached Mike's room, the guards laid him gently on the bed. Nikky stood at the doorway, her hands clasped tightly together. She watched as a doctor was summoned, the urgency in the air palpable. Every second felt like an eternity as she waited for the doctor to assess Mike's condition.
Finally, the doctor looked up, his expression serious but not alarmed. "He'll be fine," he said, addressing the room. "He just fainted from the shock and the fall. He needs rest."