Zachary Sullivan's face flushed crimson.
He gasped for air, struggling against the iron grip around his throat.
"I found... something your mother left behind."
"It's at the Underground Raceway... as a competition prize."
The pressure on his neck vanished abruptly.
Zachary gulped in ragged breaths.
He'd just escaped death's door.
One second later, and this madman would have snapped his neck.
"So I came to tell you."
"Your leg injury just healed—perfect timing to join the event."
"Even if you can't win it, you can always buy it."
Zachary wiped sweat from his brow.
Only then did he realize his forehead was drenched in cold perspiration.
The moment Ethan released him, he scrambled backward.
His limbs flailed, his retreat graceless.
Had he known this would happen, he'd have sent someone else.
"...The Underground Raceway?" Sophia blinked.
That was A-City's infamous racing arena.
Beyond official competitions, it hosted underground gambling rings.
Notorious for bloodshed and brutality.
Racers wore masks on the track.
Full helmets obscured their identities.
They collected prizes and vanished.
Leaving no trails to follow.
Zachary's pulse still hammered.
But humiliation festered in his chest.
"I've said what I came to say!" he snarled.
"Take it or leave it!"
He'd calculated Ethan's weakness perfectly.
Anything related to his late mother—truth or trap—would lure him in.
"Tch—"
Zachary winced, tasting blood.
His split lip stung.
No pain, no gain.
When he'd faked his leg injury, his father had humored him.
Now, after nearly being strangled?
His father wouldn't ignore this.
At the very least, he'd secure those company shares.
As Zachary schemed—
WHACK!
A broom handle smacked his face.
He instinctively covered his cheek.
The wooden edge left a bleeding gash.
Pathetic.
He looked up.
Old Benjamin York stood there, broom raised.
The elderly man's mustache quivered with rage.
"You spoiled brat!"
"Can't even speak like a decent human!"
Despite his age, Benjamin wielded the broom like a sword.
The courtyard descended into chaos.
Sophia jumped to her feet.
"Careful! Don't throw out your back!"
The old man shot her a glare.
"Bah! I'm fitter than you!"
He brandished the broom protectively.
"Sophia, stay behind me!"
"I'm guarding this place today!"
"Let's see who dares bully you now!"
Zachary dodged another swing.
"You—just wait!"
He flung an invitation card to the ground.
Then fled like a whipped dog.
Ethan watched his retreat with icy detachment.
His finger tapped a phone screen.
"Execute Phase Two. Teach him a lesson."
Those who dared touch a dragon's reverse scales—
Paid the price in blood.
Zachary cursed nonstop during the drive.
He spat blood out the window.
"Country bumpkins! Savages!"
His entire body trembled with rage.
A missing tooth made his speech slur.
The broom's welts burned like fire.
He dialed Chloe's number.
His voice dripped venom.
"The bait worked. Ethan took it."
"I've got people watching him."
His chest heaved violently.
"Once he's ruined, I'll be the Sullivans' sole heir."
"You'll get your cut."
On the other end—
Chloe's lips curved.
"Don't worry, Zachary."
"His days are numbered."
She stroked her newest jewelry gift.
Just as she prepared more honeyed words—
SCREECH!
Tires shrieked through the receiver.
BOOM!
Metal crunched.
Static crackled.
Then—silence.
"...Zachary?"
Chloe frowned.
Dead air.
Something had gone terribly wrong.