After ending the call, she sprawled across her bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling’s blank canvas.
The sudden crash of the door jolting open startled her upright, revealing Jules striding into the room. Her words tumbled out before she could stop them.
“What brings you here?”
Jules settled into a chair with casual grace.
“How about we clear that troubled mind of yours with an outing?”
Corrine studied him, her irritation seeking an escape valve. After a moment’s consideration, she ventured, “Our usual routine?”
“Sure,” Jules affirmed.
As they stepped into the hallway, Carl emerged from his bedroom, his scrutinizing gaze traveling over Corrine’s attire before landing disapprovingly on Jules.
“Taking Corrine out for another adventure, are you?”
“Grandpa, it’s just a simple ride,” Corrine soothed, linking her arm through his as she helped him navigate the stairs.
“I’m staying at Uncle Waldo’s apartment tonight, but I’ll be back this weekend for dinner with you.”
Carl found himself speechless, looking at Corrine, whose features bore a striking resemblance to Kiley’s. With a resigned sigh, he murmured, “Be safe.”
“She’s in good hands with me,” Jules assured him.
“No harm will come to her.”
Carl’s derisive snort spoke volumes.
“That’s precisely what concerns me. She’s picked up all these unladylike habits from you.”
“Time to go!” Jules exclaimed, a headache brewing from Carl’s criticism. He grasped Corrine’s wrist, guiding her swiftly toward the exit.
As Carl watched her disappear into the distance, concern etched deeper lines into his face.
The butler observed his expression, asking, “Worried about Miss Holland’s matrimonial prospects, Mr. Ford?”
Carl turned to him with a weary sigh.
“What’s your take on this?”
A knowing smile played across the butler’s features.
“Each generation charts its own course, Mr. Ford. Why burden yourself with worry?”
Carl fell silent, his gaze drawn to the birds soaring against the horizon. A melancholy shadow crossed his eyes as he grappled with the truth in those words.
Jules and Corrine pulled into SS Racing Club. After changing into their racing gear, the staff brought forward two magnificent vehicles: a dark purple Lykan for Corrine and a black Shelby for Jules. Jules sat in the driver’s seat, one arm draped across the lowered window.
“Try not to cry when you lose, Corrine,” he taunted.
“Less talk!” Corrine shot back, her attention laser-focused on the countdown display.
The moment it expired, she unleashed the engine’s power, her vehicle launching forward like lightning.
Jules had anticipated rust in Corrine’s skills after years away from racing. Instead, he witnessed a masterclass in precision driving as she executed two consecutive turns flawlessly, maximizing her acceleration with expert timing. His playful demeanor evaporated as she threatened to overtake him at the bend.
Their vehicles danced neck and neck around the track, neither yielding an inch. The intensity of their competition drew a growing crowd of spectators, all eager to witness this unexpected display of skill.
The rest area boasted state-of-the-art sound systems and broadcasting screens, with expansive floor-to-ceiling windows offering spectators an unobstructed view of the racing spectacle below. Zack swirled his wine glass thoughtfully, his eyes tracking the blur of vehicles as they thundered past.
“Since we’re here, why not make things interesting with a wager?”
“The Lykan has my bet,” Nate declared, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Zack’s gaze darted between the purple vehicle and Nate’s confident expression, amusement dancing in his eyes. He decided that from now on, Moses would be the one to do all the difficult tasks
On the track, Corrine surrendered herself to the familiar rhythm of racing, pushing her speed to ever-greater heights. Her skills bore Jules’ distinctive imprint-countless nights spent racing mountain roads during their time abroad had honed her abilities to razor-sharpness.
Today, whether from the extended break from racing or her turbulent emotions, she drove with reckless abandon, her speed climbing to dangerous levels. The wind’s fierce howl filled her ears, bringing with it an intoxicating rush of pure, unbridled freedom.
Jules tracked her progress from behind, astonished by her wild performance. Corrine’s driving bordered on suicidal intensity.
As they entered the final lap, her dark purple Lykan screamed across the finish line, claiming an unmistakable victory. She guided her vehicle to a stop near the finish line, sinking back into her seat to catch her breath as the adrenaline surge swept away her accumulated frustrations.
As she stepped out, letting her hair cascade freely, a uniformed staff member approached.
“Miss Holland, Mr. Hopkins requests your presence.” The unexpected news of Nate’s presence caught her off guard.
Composing herself, she nodded briefly.
“Please wait while I change.”
“Of course.”
In the changing room, fragments of animated conversation drifted to her ears. A group of women huddled together, their voices charged with excitement.
“Did you see that man in the VIP suite? Absolutely gorgeous!”
“Right? When I delivered drinks, I couldn’t help staring. That face, that physique-he puts movie stars to shame!”
“The manager called him Mr. Hopkins and practically groveled. He must be seriously important.”
“Someone like him probably has his pick of women. He’s definitely not the type to notice ordinary girls.”
“Well, what’s one more admirer in the mix?”
Their chatter devolved into schemes for catching Nate’s attention- orchestrated accidents involving spilled drinks, feigned injuries, and manufactured chance encounters.
Corrine found herself caught between irritation and amusement at their plots to pursue her man, the situation taking on an almost comical quality. Her reflection in the mirror nearly prompted a laugh.
Following the staff member to the suite, she encountered one of the women from the changing room, now impeccably groomed and approaching Nate. Her voice was honeyed with intention.
“Mr. Hopkins, allow me to refresh your drink.”
“Get out!” Nate’s command cracked through the air like ice, his tone razor-sharp and brutally cold.
“Mr. Hopkins, I just-“
Impatience darkened his features as his piercing gaze cut through her.
“I say, get out!” he snarled, his words dropping the temperature in the suite several degrees.
The woman recoiled, clearly unprepared for such an arctic dismissal. Realizing her miscalculation, she hastily gathered her belongings and fled, almost colliding with Corrine in her rush to escape
The woman froze for a moment, her perfectly applied makeup faltering slightly as embarrassment and awkwardness flashed across her face. Her eyes swept over Corrine from head to toe, and a fleeting look of disdain crossed her features. She had just thrown herself at Nate, only to be rejected, so what possible chance could the woman before her have?
However, Corrine didn’t flinch at the woman’s mocking gaze. She walked past her with cool composure.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.