I Thought It Was Just a Taxi… I Had No Idea It Was the Beginning of Everything.”

It was raining. Not the soft kind that makes you smile. No—this was the kind that slapped you in the face, soaked your bones, and made you feel like the sky itself was against you.

I was exhausted.

Fifth job rejection this month. My plastic bag shoes were holding more water than my kitchen sink. And I hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

When I saw that black car parked by the curb, I didn’t think. I just... acted. Opened the door. Slid in. Slammed it shut behind me.

“Please just drive,” I said, not even looking at the driver. “I’ll pay you when I get there.”

Silence.

I remember wondering if he was deaf—or just heartless. I was shivering, annoyed, and already regretting it. But then the car moved.

He drove.

No questions. No protests. Just… silence and windshield wipers.

When we pulled up near my neighborhood—if you could call it that—I realized I had nothing to pay with. My voice cracked as I mumbled, “I—I’ll pay you tomorrow. I promise.”

That’s when he handed me a card. Smooth, thick. Embossed letters.

“If you ever need anything, call me,” he said.

I actually laughed. “What I need is a job, not empty promises.”

And I slammed the door, thinking I’d never see him again.

But life… life’s weird.

The next day, that same sleek black car pulled up near the street market where I sold roasted groundnuts. My heart stuttered.

He stepped out. Tall. Dressed like a man who owned half the city.

“You still didn’t call,” he said with a smirk.

I wiped my hands on my apron. “I told you. I don’t need charity.”

“Good,” he replied. “Because I’m not offering any. I need a personal assistant. Interested?”

My walls shot up instantly. “I don’t sleep with bosses.”

He chuckled. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. See you tomorrow. 9AM. Don’t be late.”

I still don’t know why I showed up.

Maybe I wanted to prove something. Maybe I just needed a break. But I stood outside Donovan Enterprises, heart thumping like crazy, in my only clean blouse and secondhand shoes.

The receptionist tried to block me—until he appeared, took my hand, and walked me upstairs like I was royalty.

The office froze. Whispers followed me. But I ignored them.

I worked. Hard. I stayed late. Took notes. Got better. Fast.

And Jace? He watched me. Not in a creepy way—but like he actually saw me.

The girl from the rain.

One night, I stood at the window after everyone left. He walked up, handed me his coat and car keys, and said, “This time… no need to pretend I’m a taxi.”

I smiled. For the first time in weeks, I smiled without pain.

People say love is soft. Ours wasn’t. It was wild, inconvenient, and impossible.

His board hated me. His world whispered I wasn’t good enough.

One day, I heard one of the executives call me “street trash.” That was it for me.

I wrote my resignation letter that night.

“I didn’t come to ruin your image,” I told him, placing the letter on his desk. “You gave me dignity. That’s enough.”

He reached for me. “You’re the only real thing in my life.”

But I walked away.

Months passed.

I found another job. Nothing fancy, but it was mine. I paid the bills. Took care of my mom. Lived quietly.

But I never knew… never knew that Jace was behind the hospital paying her chemo. That he made sure my siblings never missed school. Never knew how many nights he waited outside, just to make sure I was safe.

Sometimes, when I see a black car on the street, my heart still races.

Not because I’m hoping it’s him.

But because I know…

He never stopped caring.

To be continue ......