Chapter 15: 450 Thousand and a Challenge

Chapter 15: 450 Thousand and a Challenge
The mountain air still echoed with the roar of engines.

The driver of the dusty blue cab stood frozen, his jaw nearly touching the ground. He blinked several times, as if trying to make sense of what just happened.

“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath.

He’d been driving that old cab for five, maybe six years. He knew every squeaky turn of the wheel, every rattle in the engine. But never in his wildest dreams did he imagine it could be driven like… that.

It was as if the car had transformed into a beast—smooth, controlled, and lightning fast.

Sammy stood beside his silver Lamborghini, eyes locked on the girl who had just stepped out of the cab like it was nothing. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

Elira.

She was calm. Unbothered. As if she hadn’t just humiliated him in front of everyone.

The crowd was still murmuring, whispers spreading like wildfire.

“Did Sammy… lose?”

It wasn’t just that he lost. That wasn’t even the shocking part.

The real shock?

A Lamborghini, worth over two million, had lost to a battered blue cab that might fetch twenty grand—on a good day.

If that wasn’t a miracle, then what kind of monster driving skills did it take?

Elira reached forward and gently pulled a pen from the cab’s dashboard. The cab driver, still in disbelief, handed her a notepad with trembling hands.

She scribbled something quickly, tore the paper clean, and walked toward Sammy with quiet confidence.

Her boots crunched against the gravel. Her expression didn’t change—no smug grin, no dramatic flair. Just pure business.

Sammy still hadn’t moved. He stood there like a statue, mouth slightly open, watching her every step.

Elira held out the paper between two slender fingers.

“150 thousand,” she said. “Transfer it to my account.”

She slapped the note onto the polished hood of his silver Lamborghini. Then, as casually as if she'd just returned a library book, she shoved her hands into her pockets and turned to leave.

“Hold on!”

Sammy’s voice finally came back to life. He stepped forward quickly, blocking her path.

Elira paused and turned her head, her brows arching slightly in amusement.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, her voice cool and detached.

There was something about her. That quiet confidence. The way she held her ground despite being surrounded by boys from rich families. Even though she looked petite in her school uniform, her presence was fierce—undeniable.

Sammy swallowed and pointed at her.

“Race again,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Same bet. One fifty.”

Elira raised an eyebrow, not answering right away.

Sammy smirked and held up two fingers. “Alright. Make it three hundred thousand.”

Now he had everyone’s attention again. Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Three hundred thousand?

Elira crossed her arms loosely, pretending to think. But anyone watching closely could see the flicker of interest in her eyes.

“And the rules?” she asked calmly.

Sammy grinned. “Simple. You drive my car this time. And you’ll race against my best friend—he’s the fastest guy in our group.”

He looked around and waved over a tall boy wearing a leather jacket. “This is Martins,” Sammy said proudly. “You beat him, and I’ll pay up. But there’s one condition.”

Elira tilted her head, waiting.

Sammy grinned wider. “I ride with you. In the passenger seat.”

Whispers spread again.

Was he hoping to sabotage her from the inside? Or was he just that eager to see her drive up close?

Elira didn’t even blink. “Deal,” she said.

Sammy’s excitement skyrocketed. He slapped Martins on the back, laughing. “Give her hell, bro! Go all out!”

Martins looked serious. He knew better than to underestimate her after what just happened. But he nodded and walked toward his car to get ready.

Sammy turned back to his own car and opened the passenger door—where a girl in a designer jacket was still frozen in shock. He gently nudged her out, muttering a quick apology, then hopped in with childish enthusiasm.

Elira slid behind the wheel.

“Do you even know how to drive this thing?” Sammy asked, half-joking, half-serious. “This model’s limited. There are less than ten in the world. And I’ve had it specially modified.”

Elira reached for the seatbelt.

“I have two of these in my garage,” she said simply. “Modified better than this one.”

Sammy blinked, unsure if she was bluffing.

“You’re not from Sundrift City, are you?” he asked, scanning her from head to toe. “No one here can afford that kind of car. Let alone two.”

Elira said nothing. She gripped the wheel, waiting.

Sammy leaned back, still trying to process her claim.

“You said you have two of this model?” He patted the car's armrest. “You really like to brag, huh?”

Then he mumbled under his breath, “What are you, a secret heir to the Harris family?”

Elira didn’t flinch. She didn’t need to defend herself. Her actions spoke louder than any name.

Sammy leaned over, clearly more curious now than ever. “So, what’s your name? You’re in high school, right? What grade?”

He grinned again. “You should apply to Paragon University. That’s where I go. We can practice together. Trade driving secrets. You know, just casually hang out—”

“Focus,” Elira said, cutting him off gently.

“Right, right!” Sammy laughed. “Let’s go!”

The starting signal blared.

Martins’s car darted forward like a rocket.

Elira didn’t move.

Sammy whipped his head toward her. “Hey, what are you doing? He’s getting away!”

“Let him,” she said calmly. “Twenty seconds won’t change the result.”

Sammy blinked.

She really meant it.

When the count reached twenty, Elira gently pressed the accelerator. The engine purred like a sleeping dragon—until she slammed her foot down.

The car jolted forward, and within seconds, they were flying down the road.

Sammy’s excitement bubbled up again. “Let’s goooo!” he screamed.

The world outside became a blur of lights and curves.

Elira handled every turn like she was dancing. She didn’t slow down. In fact, she sped up, defying gravity at each corner.

Sammy clung to the seat, his heart racing faster than the car.

Martins was good. He was focused, careful. He took every curve seriously. But as soon as he checked the rearview mirror and saw the silver shadow gaining on him like a ghost, he panicked.

“No way…” Martins whispered.

Elira was right behind him now. He tried to block her, cutting left. But she anticipated it—drifting wide on the next bend and overtaking him with grace and aggression.

She sliced past him like a bullet.

Sammy let out a loud whoop. “Oh my god! That was insane!”

Martins blinked in disbelief. His hands clenched the steering wheel. He pushed harder, but Elira was gone.

The hill climb was one thing. But now they were descending—faster, steeper, and ten times more dangerous.

Sammy held his breath. He didn’t scream this time. He just stared at her.

She wasn’t just fast. She was fearless.

The silver car blazed down the slope, engine howling.

People at the base were waiting. Some with phones out, recording. Others held timers.

The blur appeared like a flash of lightning.

Then came the screech.

The car came to a stop in a perfect drift.

Sammy’s mouth opened. His legs felt like jelly.

He sat frozen in the passenger seat, wind still howling in his ears.

Then he heard her voice.

“Four hundred and fifty thousand. Don’t forget to transfer it.”

She stepped out without looking back and walked straight toward the waiting cab.

Sammy shook himself awake. “Hey! Wait!”

But she was already gone. The blue cab pulled away, vanishing into the night.

Sammy looked around in panic.

He spotted Dylan Carter.

“Hey! You!” he called. “Dylan, do you know her?”

Dylan blinked, then shook his head slowly. “No idea. But… I think she goes to Sundrift High.”

Sammy stood there, stunned.

His friend Martins hadn’t eve
n made it down the hill yet.

And Elira?

She was already gone.