Never Offend the Hidden Don Chapter 01

Never Offend the Hidden Don Chapter 01

Seven years ago, at my own engagement party, I ignored Isabella’s pleas and beat her childhood friend Victor until his left leg snapped.

Less than a month after I was sent to prison, the two of them got married.

Everyone in New York’s underworld knew I had once been crazy enough to do anything to win Isabella over.

So naturally, everyone waited for me to get out and take revenge.

What no one expected was that the first thing I did after my release was disappear from their lives completely.

That day, a light rain was falling when I waited at the airport for my next passenger.

I glanced up without thinking and met a woman’s eyes near the VIP exit.

She left the driver who had come to pick her up and hurried straight toward my car. A second later, she pulled open the door and climbed inside.

She didn’t say a word after getting in.

She only stared at me, dazed and frozen.

I gave her my usual driver’s smile. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Where are you headed?”

Her voice trembled. “Take me home.”

“Address, please.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Enzo, you… Do you not even remember where we used to live?”

I kept my tone calm. “Sorry. Platform policy. I have to confirm the address after a passenger gets in.”

Silence sank into the car.

Only the steady scrape of the windshield wipers and the low hum of the engine filled the space between us.

In the end, Isabella gave me the address.

I followed the navigation onto the main road, eyes fixed ahead, as if the woman beside me were just another ordinary passenger.

Her breathing was light.

Several times, she seemed about to speak, then swallowed the words back down.

Her fingers twisted the hem of her skirt without her noticing.

I used to know that habit well.

It meant something inside her was tearing itself apart.

“Enzo,” she finally spoke again. “How have you been?”

I kept my eyes on the road and held my professional smile. “Pretty good. Quiet. I drive, eat, sleep. Nothing dramatic. That’s the life I wanted.”

“You’re lying!”

She snapped back so quickly that her voice cracked. Then she turned and stared hard at my profile.

“How could you possibly get used to this? Do you even remember the life you had before? You had drivers everywhere you went. You wore custom suits. Even your drinking water was flown in from Italy. And now you’re driving rideshare and living…”

She stopped herself before the last part came out.

But the pity in her unfinished sentence was loud enough.

I smiled and said nothing.

She wasn’t wrong.

My past life had been ridiculously extravagant, but I didn’t chase those things anymore.

When the car stopped at a red light on an old Brooklyn street, the rain happened to ease.

She suddenly asked, “You drive around here now. How much can you make in an hour?”

Isabella looked out the window, her eyes complicated.

“Depends. Forty or fifty on a good hour. Usually a little over twenty,” I answered honestly.

I didn’t drive for a living. I mostly did it to kill time, and sometimes I even waived the fare.

She fell quiet for a few seconds.

Then she lowered her head, opened her expensive handbag, and pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill.

“Then I’ll hire you for an hour. No driving. Just walk around this old street with me. Is that okay?”

I glanced at the bill. “The customer is always right. If there’s money to make, I’m not saying no.”

After I parked, I took her into the old neighborhood.

The pavement was still slick from the rain. In her delicate heels, Isabella had to walk carefully.

Every few steps, an old man on a porch rocker or a shop owner by the curb recognized me and called out.

“Enzo, back from a ride?”

“Enzo, dear, have you eaten? Mrs. Rossi still has coffee.”

“Hey, E! Who’s the lady? She’s gorgeous!”

After I got out of prison, I made a life for myself in this area. Those who knew better called me Don Enzo.