Chapter 382: Overwhelmed with Shame

It was the height of morning rush hour, and the drivers of the other cars all jumped out. After checking the damage to their vehicles, they started yelling at Amina.

Amina had seen her share of dark moments in life.

She thought yesterday was humiliating, but she never imagined today would be a true nightmare.

People milled about on the busy street while she lay on the ground as several men screamed at her, spittle flying.

They all mercilessly blamed and cursed her...

She couldn’t see the first car in the pile-up, but she could see the one right in front of her.

Through the gaps between the men’s legs, she saw the logo on the wheel: a Mercedes-Benz.

Zeke Walton had told her this was considered a mid-tier luxury car, the kind the upper-middle class drove.

She didn’t have insurance. The cost of repairing this car alone would be enough to bankrupt her.

Now, on top of being dizzy, her stomach started to churn.

The stress of her helplessness was making Amina nauseous. ’I’m so pathetic,’ she thought, disgusted with herself. ’How could I be so useless? So stupid? Should I tell Zeke Walton? Will he be disgusted with me too?’

Just as her world was spinning, a familiar voice called out, "Amina? Is that you, Amina?"

Thankfully, it was a familiar voice. Cecelia Archer had somehow pushed her way through the group of men and was now standing before her.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt badly? Can you get up? Do I need to take you to the hospital?"

"Alright, that’s enough shouting from all of you," she said to the men. "She didn’t do it on purpose, and it’s not like she said she wouldn’t pay for the damages. What’s all the yelling for?"

Seeing a beautiful, well-dressed woman who knew Amina come to her defense, the men finally quieted down.

Cecelia helped Amina sit up. It was as if she’d suddenly snapped out of it; her mind cleared, and the ringing in her ears faded.

"Miss Archer..."

Cecelia said, "I thought I saw you from the car, so I rushed over. I can’t believe it really is you. Are you all right?"

"I’m fine," she said, slowly getting to her feet and stretching her arms and legs. "It’s just..."

Damien Vaughn also pushed through the crowd and joined them.

"Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious," he said. "I’ve already called someone to handle it. We’ll just put it on my insurance."

Cecelia gave her a kind, reassuring nod.

"That’s right, don’t you worry," she added. "It’s just a tiny traffic accident, really. It’s no big deal. Our car is insured, so we’ll just have our insurance take care of it. You don’t have to do a thing."

Amina had never had a driver’s license and knew nothing about insurance.

"But there are so many cars... Won’t it cost a lot?"

"That’s what insurance is for—to pay for claims when accidents happen. The insurance company pays the bill, not us. You don’t have to be afraid."

While they were talking, Damien Vaughn had already picked up her electric scooter and was now speaking with the other drivers.

Maybe it was his distinguished air and impeccable manners, or perhaps it was his obviously high status, but the drivers’ previous arrogance completely vanished. Each one was more polite than the last when speaking to him, stopping just short of bowing and scraping.

Looking at the kind couple, Amina felt a sting in her nose and had to fight back tears.

"I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you."

Cecelia gently adjusted her helmet.

"Nonsense. We’re all friends. This is nothing. You look a little pale, though. Are you feeling unwell? Maybe you should take the day off. I can take you to the hospital."

Amina didn’t want to go to the hospital.

To her, a hospital was just a bottomless money pit.

She wouldn’t go unless the pain was unbearable.

Besides, after nearly causing such a disaster, how could she have the nerve to go rest at a hospital?

"No, I think I was just shaken up. I’ll be fine in a bit. I’m making you late for work."

Cecelia chided her gently, "Damien and Zeke Walton grew up together like brothers. You’re a good friend of Zeke’s, which makes you our friend too. Please don’t be so formal with us."

Cecelia comforted her for a little while longer. By then, Damien Vaughn had resolved the issue, and the other drivers got back in their cars and drove away.

He walked over and wrapped his arm affectionately around Cecelia’s shoulders.

"How is she? Is she all right?"

Cecelia gently patted his hand. "She’s fine. Just shaken up. She’ll feel better after a little while."

Damien Vaughn turned to Amina with a gentle expression.

"It didn’t cost you a penny, and everyone has left. See? Don’t feel burdened by this. If anything like this ever happens again, just call Cecelia. As long as you’re not hurt, nothing else matters."

Amina watched them leave with gratitude before getting back on her scooter and merging into the flow of traffic.

Watching her small figure disappear into the distance, Cecelia sighed, still feeling uneasy.

"I can’t shake the feeling that something was off about her today. I bet she’s not feeling well but is forcing herself to work anyway. I should probably let Zeke Walton know."

Amina was in the middle of a delivery when her phone rang.

She’d learned her lesson this time and pulled her scooter over to a complete stop before answering.

Zeke Walton’s cold, heavy voice came through the phone. "Where are you?"

He rarely used that tone with her, and it startled Amina.

"I’m on South Cyan River Road. What’s wrong?"

"Finish your current delivery, then send me your location. I’m coming to find you."

Half an hour later, they met on the side of the road.

Amina was intimidated by Zeke Walton before she even got close.

She had never seen him so furious. His face was as dark as a thundercloud, and his stride was sharp and menacing. He rushed toward her and grabbed her so forcefully he nearly knocked her over.

"Zeke Walton... you’re hurting me..."

Zeke didn’t say a word. He yanked the key from her scooter’s ignition and started dragging her across the road.

"Where are we going? My scooter! I still have an order to deliver! Where are you taking me?"

Zeke still said nothing. He dragged her to a Maybach parked nearby, shoved her into the passenger seat, and fastened her seatbelt. Only after he had pulled the car onto the road did he finally speak.

"What do I tell you every single morning before you leave?"

His tone was exactly like someone scolding a child. Amina was speechless.

"Answer me! What do I tell you?!"

When she didn’t answer, Zeke’s voice suddenly rose to a shout, making Amina jump.

"To... to go slow and put safety first..."

"And what else!"

Amina said in a tiny voice, "To call you the moment anything happens."

Zeke roared, "So you do remember? I fucking thought you were a complete idiot! What brilliant thing did you do today?"

Amina froze, her face instantly flushing red.

’She hadn’t expected Cecelia to tell him.’

’Then again,’ she thought, ’Cecelia said they were good friends. Of course she would tell him.’

’It wasn’t that she blamed Cecelia for telling him. She was just truly disgusted with her own incompetence and the trouble she’d caused.’

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry? Who are you sorry to? Me? Or Cecelia and Damien?"

Amina thought for a moment. "Everyone."

Zeke was so furious he could have died. His hands on the steering wheel began to tremble.

"You... dammit, Amina! Are you trying to kill me with anger? What good would that do you? Let me tell you something! You don’t owe anyone an apology! The only person you’ve wronged is yourself!"

"You’re obsessed with earning a few bucks commission on each order, running yourself ragged from dawn till dusk for a couple hundred bucks a day. Today you nearly got yourself killed for it! Are you tired of living?! When are you going to finally understand what I’m saying?"

"Money is something you earn, not something you trade your life for, and certainly not like this! When will you ever get that through your head?"