Chapter 18
When Lenore spotted Silas and Wayne, she wasn’t surprised at all. Casually pushing her cap back, she met their gazes with complete indifference.
“What’s up?” she drawled lazily.
Wayne raised a brow. So Lenore isn’t fixing cars in Peacefield anymore—she’s here in Jinslenburg playing traffic cop?
Silas rested his arm on the car window, a thoughtful smile playing at his lips.
“Ms. Smedley, did you switch careers?” His voice carried an amused undertone. He recalled overhearing at Culinary Ascent that Lenore was supposed to be attending Greenvine High School.
Ken, meanwhile, sized up Silas. Compared to Wayne, Silas had a more commanding presence—sharp, composed, and unreadable. His identity remained a mystery.
“I invited Ms. Smedley to help us out,” Ken explained.
Silas’s eyes gleamed with interest. “This car is legally modified. Would Ms. Smedley like to see the approval documents?”
Chuck, sitting in the driver’s seat, frowned. Approval documents? Oh right, I forgot—Mr. Faulkner’s identity serves as the approval.
Ken glanced at his watch—10 PM. He wasn’t sure whether Lenore was actually attending school or not, but he wasn’t about to waste her time. They’d already towed over a dozen cars tonight.
“Lenore, why don’t you head back—”
Before he could finish, a deafening roar tore through the night.
A fire-red sports car came speeding toward them, headlights blazing like twin fireballs.
“Hey, hey! Stop the car!” Ken’s men shouted, but the vehicle barreled through the barricade with reckless arrogance.
The officers barely managed to dodge out of the way.
“Mr. Sharpe!” Several shaken officers turned to Ken, eyes wide.
Ken’s frown deepened as he turned to Lenore.
She narrowed her eyes, the chill in her gaze intensifying as she assessed the road, now cluttered with cars. Then, with eerie calm, she patted the Porsche Cayenne beside her.
“I’m gonna need to borrow this.”
Chuck, still in the driver’s seat, froze.
Silas’s eyebrow arched. He instantly understood what she was about to do.
“Get out of the car.” His tone was cold, leaving no room for argument.
Chuck blinked. “Huh—?”
Five seconds later, the Porsche Cayenne shot off like a bullet, tires screeching against the asphalt.
Wayne and Chuck stood there, stunned as the night air rushed past them.
“Hey, wait a minute—” Wayne scratched at his blue hair, utterly confused. “She can chase after that car, but why the hell am I still standing here?”
Chuck could only stare, speechless.
Ken wasted no time. “Fall back. A few of you, come with me! Let’s move!”
The Chase
Riverside Avenue stretched from the outskirts of Jinslenburg straight into downtown. With Lenore behind the wheel, the Porsche Cayenne streaked through the night, a blur of black and silver.
The seatbelt tightened around Silas as the vehicle swerved sharply. He reached up, gripping the overhead handle to keep from being thrown around.
Ahead of them, the sports car driver noticed their approach and slammed the gas, determined to shake them off.
Lenore’s lips curled into a cold smile.
“Open the Riverside Avenue map.”
The car’s AI system instantly projected the route on the dashboard screen.
Silas studied her from the passenger seat. She’s never driven this car before, but she handles it like it’s second nature.
This girl is something else.
She glanced at the map, calculated the next turn in an instant, and made a sharp right down a side street.
Two minutes later, she shot out onto the main avenue and skidded to a stop, positioning the Porsche across the road.
A roadblock.
Twenty seconds later, the roar of an engine echoed through the night. Headlights flickered in the distance.
The red sports car came hurtling toward them.
The driver spotted the Cayenne at the last second and screeched to a halt, tires smoking.
The door slammed open, and a furious young man in his early twenties, sporting a buzz cut and a scowl, stepped out.
“Are you out of your mind?!” he yelled, storming toward them. “You’ve been chasing me like a lunatic! I was just driving—”
Before he could finish, Lenore hopped out, unbuckling her seatbelt in one fluid motion.
She rolled up her sleeves and stalked forward.
Then, she kicked the front bumper of his sports car with enough force to make the hood jolt.
“Get out.”
Her voice was low, cold, and unquestionable.
The driver’s anger flared. “Are you crazy? Blocking the road like this? I’ll—”
He never got to finish his threat.
Lenore’s boot connected with his stomach.
“Shit—” he gasped, his back slamming against the car hood.
His expression twisted in pain, but rage quickly took over. “Do you even know who I am? You’re seriously asking for—”
He swung a punch.
But before he could land it—
Lenore caught his wrist.
Her grip was like iron, fingers clamping down with precise control.
A sharp crack rang out as she twisted his arm, forcing him forward. Before he could recover, she followed up with a powerful kick to his chest—slamming him back against his car.
He collapsed to the ground, groaning.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
Ten Minutes Later
When Ken, Wayne, and the others finally arrived, they were greeted by an… unexpected scene.
Silas stood tall and composed under the streetlight, his aura one of effortless power and nobility.
Meanwhile, Lenore sat lounging on the hood of the red sports car, exuding an undeniable dominance.
And the driver?
Crouched on the ground, hands over his head, trembling.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I swear—I’ll never speed again. No—I’ll never drive again.”
Ken and his men exchanged glances, barely able to process what they were seeing.
Wayne scratched his head. “…Did we even need to chase him?”
Silas chuckled softly. “Apparently not.”
Ken shook his head, finally letting out a long breath. “Let’s take him in.”
And just like that, the case was closed.
