Chapter 9
One of our friends couldn’t hold back a sneer.
“Sophia’s celebrating the end of her exams. Unlike some, she actually has something real to
celebrate.”
The sarcasm was razor–sharp.
“What did you say?” Lily’s eyes widened. “Ethan just took first place, and you’re calling it a little game?”
Ethan’s expression hardened. A moment ago, he had basked in cheers; now, the sting of mockery
burned through his pride.
He stepped forward, voice cold. “Adrian Smith. Since we ran into each other here, why not make it interesting? Let’s have a proper race.”
Adrian’s frowned. I quickly tugged his sleeve and shook my head. I didn’t want him pulled into
Ethan’s petty games.
Ethan caught the gesture and gave a low, derisive laugh. “Afraid? Then forget it.” His tone dripped with provocation.
The tension thickened, heavy enough to suffocate. My friends scowled, but none dared to step in. Everyone knew Adrian hadn’t been on a public track in years.
I exhaled slowly, then released his sleeve.
He turned to me, his hand brushing my hair with quiet tenderness. “…Do you want to see me win?”
I nodded, smiling faintly. “Yes. Show them.”
That was all it took.
Adrian stepped onto the racetrack, his composure unshaken, ignoring Ethan as if he were nothing
more than background noise.”
For Ethan, the dismissal was worse than any insult. His jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he climbed into his red sports car.
Engines roared.
The starter pistol cracked.
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Ethan’s car shot forward like a flame, leaving Adrian’s black vehicle a few lengths behind.
“See?” Lily crowed, her voice loud enough for everyone around us. “He’s already losing. Ethan’s
unstoppable.”
Her smug expression drew nods and laughter from Ethan’s crowd.
But I remained silent, my eyes never leaving Adrian’s car.
At the sharpest corner, Adrian executed a perfect late brake maneuver, his black car hugging the
curve so tightly it was like art. In a blink, he had overtaken Ethan, crossing the finish line first.
The crowd went dead silent.
Someone whispered, almost in awe, “That move… it looked exactly like the world champion last year. Could it be… W?”
Whispers spread like wildfire.
But I didn’t react. I knew the truth. At eleven, Adrian had already been crowned a youth racing
prodigy. Even after years away, he had returned to the sport quietly, dominating under the anonymous alias “W.”
Adrian crossed the finish line first.
Gasps filled the arena. Ethan’s car trailed behind, humiliated.
Adrian stepped out calmly, walked straight to me, and held out his hand. “Sophia, let’s go home.”
My lips curved, warm pride swelling inside me. “Okay.”
I slipped my hand into his and walked away, leaving Ethan trembling with rage, his face twisted, and Lily frozen in shock.
And for the first time, it was clear: in this life, the Walkers were no match for the Smiths.
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