Chapter 18

Avery entered the racing arena, a familiar electric thrill coursing through her veins.

With practiced efficiency, she slipped the fox mask over her face and slid into the red race car that had once been her second skin.

The judge's pistol cracked through the air, and the race erupted to life.

Race cars shot forward like bullets, their engines releasing primal roars that vibrated through Avery's chest.

The mountain course was notorious for its merciless turns and sheer drop-offs.

One wrong move meant a deadly plunge off the cliff—a fact that would terrify a normal person.

For Avery, though, it felt like rediscovering a part of herself she'd locked away. Freedom. Power. Control.

How many years had passed since she'd last gripped a racing wheel?

Too many to count.

Back then, Avery had willingly given up everything for Owen—her passion, her ambitions, her identity.

She had poured every ounce of herself into being the perfect partner, both at home and at their company.

"Lila was right," she thought, a newfound determination hardening inside her. "I need to reclaim who I really am."

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as she slammed the accelerator to the floor.

Life wasn't just about domestic contentment and daily routines—it needed the intoxicating rush of adrenaline too!

Within minutes, she'd left over a dozen competitors eating her dust.

Then she spotted it—the black Bugatti cutting through the course like a panther in the night.

"A limited global edition?"

Interest sparked in her eyes as her competitive spirit flared.

Avery studied it with an expert's appreciation—the bodywork was midnight black with a starlight finish that caught the sunlight in hypnotic patterns.

If she wasn't mistaken, that machine was worth a cool twenty million dollars.

The driver of that black beast had to be the infamous "Night," last year's undefeated champion who never showed his face.

"Let's see if you live up to your reputation, mystery man."

Avery's lips curved into a predatory smile as she expertly maneuvered toward him, her car responding like an extension of her body!

Within seconds, the two vehicles engaged in a high-speed dance of danger and skill.

Terrifying, yet utterly exhilarating.

Inside the Bugatti, Matteo gripped his steering wheel, refusing to yield an inch to this unexpected challenger.

"Trying to overtake me on my own curves?"

Matteo ran his tongue across his lower lip, a habit when his interest was genuinely piqued.

His unusually crimson eyes gleamed with something beyond mere competition—a primal delight.

Finally, someone worthy of his full attention.

Matteo slammed on the gas, the engine's roar matching the adrenaline coursing through his system.

The two vehicles—one red as sin, one black as night—twisted around each other like lightning bolts in a storm.

Their tires nearly sparked from friction as they sliced through turns at angles that defied physics and common sense.

In that heart-stopping moment, Matteo felt his pulse thunder in his ears.

The more dangerous the game became, the more desperately he wanted to claim victory!

He was dying to discover who possessed such skill behind the wheel of that red devil.

From the sidelines, Owen stood slack-jawed with disbelief.

"Damn it, are those two completely insane? They just blew through three hairpin turns like they had a death wish!"

Without his mask, his expression twisted from shock to something darker.

Now he could forget about making the top three—even the top ten seemed beyond his reach.

Unless... he used any means necessary to win!

With cold calculation, Owen accelerated without emotion, deliberately smashing through a roadside barrier.

He didn't slow down for a second, instead targeting Avery's rear bumper with predatory focus.

"Don't blame me," he muttered. "I've got no choice in this."

With that self-justification, Owen prepared to cheat by taking an illegal shortcut.

This section was a known blind spot for surveillance cameras—the perfect place for breaking rules.

But as he attempted to overtake, something caught his eye—the driver in the red car wore a distinctive fox mask that stopped him cold!

"Avery?"

His brow furrowed as he hit the brakes, abandoning his plan to ram her car.

Owen's shock deepened with each passing second.

That fox mask was something Avery had crafted by hand years ago, before their marriage had soured.

There was no mistaking it!

So she really had returned to racing?

And from the looks of it, her skills hadn't just remained—they'd sharpened to a lethal edge!

"You always were pathetic," Avery thought as she recognized Owen's face through his windshield.

Seeing his shocked expression from her rearview mirror, she felt nothing but revulsion crawling up her spine.

It was sickening to realize Owen would cheat so blatantly, even attempting to crash into another driver just to win!

Their cars nearly collided, tires screaming against asphalt like tortured animals.

With her car teetering dangerously close to the cliff edge, she wrenched the steering wheel with expert precision.

In a move that would have been impossible for most drivers, she executed a tight, controlled turn inward!

"How did everything go so wrong?" Owen thought, panic setting in.

His heart slammed against his ribs like it was trying to escape.

Regret flashed through him—not for cheating, but for almost getting caught.

If he had actually hit Avery's car, she might have plunged to her death!

But sentimentality had to wait.

The pack of drivers would catch up soon, and the surveillance blind spot would end in moments.

"Yes, I'm despicable," Owen justified to himself. "But it's all for the company's survival!"

He quickly shifted his target to the black Bugatti ahead.

That had to be the mysterious Night, a racer who never removed his mask and supposedly entered every competition out of financial desperation.

Rumors claimed his million-dollar car came from a wealthy patron with ulterior motives.

Whatever the case, Owen had run out of options.

In the next heartbeat, he employed the same dirty tactic, aiming his car like a missile toward the Bugatti!

What Owen hadn't anticipated was Night's almost supernatural reflexes.

The black car seemed to vanish like a ghost, twisting to the side in one fluid, impossible motion.

"Son of a bitch," Owen growled through clenched teeth.

Now all three cars tore along the narrow mountain road, a deadly game of chicken where none would surrender!

Meanwhile, Matteo's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits behind his dark visor.

"What kind of amateur cheater has the audacity to pull this?"

Matteo wasn't just competitive—he was known in racing circles for his merciless vengeance against dirty players.

In response to Owen's pathetic attempt, Matteo executed a perfect 180-degree turn.

"Very well," he murmured, his voice deadly calm. "I'll teach you the price of dishonor."

In the next breath, he aimed his Bugatti straight for Owen's car like an avenging demon!

"No!" Owen's face drained of all color.

He never imagined Night would be unhinged enough to flip the script and hunt him down!

This stretch of road was supposed to be his opportunity to cheat safely.

Instead, he was about to face justice at 120 miles per hour!

Before Owen could react, his world exploded in pain as his car was struck with precision force.

The violent impact crushed him against the steering wheel, leaving him gasping.

"Help!" he cried out pathetically.

The rocky terrain tore at his vehicle as it spun out of control, and Owen felt something crack inside his chest.

His now-ruined car threw him into plain view of the spectators and cameras he'd tried to avoid.

"Owen's hurt!" Chloe exclaimed from the VIP stands.

On the massive screen, drone footage captured the moment his car was sent flying by the precision hit.

Owen had clearly been deliberately targeted and ejected from his vehicle.

She jumped to her feet, designer purse clutched in white-knuckled fingers.

"Someone deliberately took out a competitor!" she shouted, trying to draw attention to Owen's plight.

As officials rushed to the scene, a strange male voice whispered from just behind Chloe's shoulder.

"Don't you want your friend Mr. Walker to win this race... no matter what?"

Chloe startled, then spun around.

The man wore dark designer sunglasses and a pristine white mask.

His entire face was hidden, making him as anonymous as a ghost.

"Who are you?" Chloe demanded, instinctively stepping back.

"It doesn't matter who I am." His voice was smooth as expensive whiskey. "What matters is that I have a solution to your friend's... predicament."

"What kind of solution?" Chloe studied him suspiciously. "You're not some kind of scammer, are you?"

Her journalistic instincts battled with desperation. If Owen could win the championship, he'd secure the partnership with the prestigious Ferrari Group.

And she, as his devoted friend and media contact, would score an exclusive that could make her career.

The sunglassed stranger slipped something small and metallic into her hand.

"This is a miniature explosive device. Quite sophisticated—it won't cause casualties, just enough damage to a vehicle's undercarriage to force it out of the race."

He adjusted his sunglasses with one gloved finger.

"Let's just say I have personal reasons for wanting Night to lose today."

"Whether you use this or not is entirely your decision."

With that cryptic statement, he melted back into the crowd of spectators.

He knew with absolute certainty that the ambitious Chloe would use it without hesitation.

"Wait!" Chloe called, staring at the device now burning a hole in her palm.

But the mysterious man had vanished as completely as morning fog in sunshine.

What should she do now?

Knowing Owen as she did, he would continue racing even with broken bones—his desperation for this win ran that deep.

If they wanted to secure victory, perhaps playing dirty was their only remaining card.

"Owen," she thought, her jaw setting with determination, "I'll make sure nothing stands between you and what you deserve."

She took a steeling breath and slipped away from the stands, the deadly device clutched in her hand.

Once this little beauty did its work, every car between Owen and the finish line would be eliminated in one spectacular crash!