Chloe Evans' fingers trembled slightly as she ended the call.
Liam Winston approached, his gaze lingering on her pale face.
"You look terrible. Trouble?"
"Nothing serious." She forced a smile.
She hid her phone behind her back, feigning composure.
"My friend hung up abruptly. I'm worried something happened."
"Probably just bad reception." Liam sounded distracted.
His eyes studied Chloe with complex emotions.
"You've been exhausted lately."
"Tomorrow I'm going to the Underground Raceway. Come with me."
Memories of the auction resurfaced—Sophia Sullivan's icy rejection still stung.
The humiliation of being publicly scorned by his ex-wife clung to him.
Liam clenched his fists, forcing Sophia's image from his mind.
Chloe was the one he should cherish.
"The Underground Raceway?" Chloe's heart skipped a beat.
What were the odds?
She and Zachary Sullivan had just planned their operation there.
She couldn't let Liam disrupt their scheme.
She grasped his sleeve, eyes wide with feigned concern.
"It's too dangerous there..."
"You're still recovering. You should rest at home."
She tilted her face up, the picture of devotion.
"Let me go instead? I'll bring bodyguards."
Her worried expression softened Liam's resolve.
He gently stroked her hair.
"I need to be there personally. But..."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"You weren't afraid of danger when you saved me."
Cold sweat prickled down Chloe's spine.
Suppressing panic, she murmured, "Because I loved you too much."
"All I could think about was saving you. Fear never crossed my mind."
Liam's gaze deepened.
"Thank you, Chloe."
Her lifesaving act had sworn him to protect her forever.
"We'll just be in the spectator area. Perfectly safe."
"Consider it a distraction."
Chloe dared not protest further.
"...Alright."
Her eyes flickered to her darkened phone screen.
She could only pray Zachary wouldn't mess things up.
——
Sunlight bathed the courtyard of Potter's Town.
Mr. York's black cat had been rubbing against Sophia's legs when suddenly it arched its back, fur bristling.
"Meow—"
It leaped away resentfully, nose twitching.
As if accusing her of smelling like another cat.
Sophia chuckled, scattering cat food on the ground.
"So you're really going to the Underground Raceway tomorrow?"
She glanced sideways at Ethan Sullivan.
"Zachary's words aren't trustworthy."
This was clearly a trap.
Ethan idly spun his teacup.
"Of course not."
"That clumsy setup isn't worth the risk."
But showing up as Zephyr would make perfect sense.
His gaze traveled over Sophia.
Sunlight haloed her relaxed posture, languid as a contented feline.
"Interested, Ms. Sullivan?"
He remembered her professional stance during speed skating.
Those who loved extreme sports usually enjoyed racing too.
"Too busy lately for distractions."
Sophia half-closed her eyes lazily.
Their identical air of casual indifference mirrored perfectly.
In the courtyard, Mr. York taught Emma Sullivan to shape clay.
A breeze stirred—time seemed suspended in tranquility.
"Did the medicine work?" Ethan's eyes dropped to her neck.
"Good for bruises."
Sophia's fingers paused briefly.
"The high collar covers it."
"My apologies." Ethan lowered his lashes.
"I bit too hard."
"Don't worry. I didn't hold back either."
Images from last night flashed between them.
From the living room to the stairs, then the bathroom.
When Ethan had pressed her against the wooden desk, her nails had scored his back deeply.
His kisses had gentled to savage, leaving mottled marks.
The bruises on her chest still ached at the slightest touch.
His back bore matching crisscrossed scratches.
From afternoon till dusk—relentless.
As if making up for three years of abstinence.
Sophia mused that perhaps life in A-City had been too mundane.
A little excitement had plunged them into reckless abandon.