A Poor Dad Helped a Woman After a Car Crash, Not Knowing She Was a Billionaire Falling for Him
The Midnight Rescue
The sound of screeching tires and shattering glass pierced the quiet evening air. This caused Xavier Lawson to jolt upright from where he’d been kneeling beside his daughter’s bed, tucking her in for the night.
His heart hammered against his ribs as he pressed a quick kiss to six-year-old Lily’s forehead.
“Daddy has to check something outside sweetheart. Stay right here okay?”
Lily’s brown eyes widened with concern.
“Was that a crash Daddy?”
“I think so baby. I need to make sure everyone’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
Xavier pulled the pink comforter up to her chin.
“Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. Remember our knock.”
Lily nodded solemnly, making the three-tap pattern against her headboard with small knuckles. Xavier rushed out of their modest one-bedroom apartment, waiting in the hallway until he heard the deadbolt slide into place.
Their building sat on a sharp curve of County Road 22, notorious for accidents. This wasn’t the first crash he’d heard since moving here three years ago after Lisa’s death.
The night air carried a distinct burning smell as Xavier sprinted toward the wreckage about fifty yards from his apartment building. A sleek black Tesla had veered off the road and smashed into an oak tree. Its front end was crumpled like an accordion.
Smoke billowed from under the mangled hood.
“Hello, anyone in there?” Xavier shouted, approaching cautiously.
The driver’s side airbag had deployed. Slumped against it was a woman with blood trickling down her forehead. She stirred slightly at the sound of his voice.
“Help!” she whispered, her eyes fluttering.
Xavier tried the door handle, but it was jammed. He ran to the passenger side, relieved when that door opened with a groan of protesting metal.
The interior lights illuminated the woman’s face. She was in her early thirties with caramel-colored skin and delicate features, now contorted in pain.
“I need to get you out of here,” Xavier said, assessing the situation.
The smell of gasoline was growing stronger.
“Can you move my leg?” she grimaced, gesturing toward where her lower body was partially trapped beneath the crushed dashboard.
Xavier heard sirens in the distance, but his instincts told him they didn’t have time to wait. The smoke was thickening.
“I’m going to help you,” he said firmly, reaching across to release her seat belt.
“This might hurt, but we need to move quickly.”
With careful but urgent movements, Xavier managed to free her leg and slide his arms beneath her knees and shoulders.
She was surprisingly light as he lifted her from the wreckage, her head lying against his chest.
Just as he carried her about twenty feet away, a whoosh of flame erupted from the engine compartment. The woman gasped, clinging to him as they watched her car become engulfed in fire.
“You just saved my life,” she murmured, her dark eyes reflecting the orange flames.
“Anyone would have done the same,” Xavier responded, lowering her gently to sit on the curb.
“I’m Xavier. Xavier Lawson.”
“Valencia,” she replied, wincing as she tried to straighten her injured leg. “Valencia Winters.”
