By the time the limousine rolled to a halt before the tall iron gates of the Du Pont mansion, Driver Dan was drenched in sweat. The steering wheel felt slippery beneath his hands, and his shirt clung to his back despite the steady hum of the car's air conditioning. He had been repeating prayers in his head for the past fifteen minutes, but with every inch the distance shortened, the knot in his stomach tightened more.
The madam's warning echoed again in his ears: be extra careful. Do not, under any circumstances, offend a Du Pont.
He felt like crying inside. He had signed up to be the young master's driver precisely to avoid this sort of risk. He wasn't cut out for this kind of pressure. Serving the chairman or CEO meant constantly facing big shots head-on. Even Miss Willow was a no-no. But even in one million years, he never thought young master Micah would bring him to a place even most prominent figures had never dared enter. The pressure was suffocating.
