Chapter 19
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Chuck knelt beside the Porsche Cayenne, running his hand over the hood with a conflicted expression.
“Man… this car can handle mountains, oceans—you name it. But it’s never been driven like that before.”
Wayne, on the other hand, rushed straight to Silas, eyes brimming with questions.
“What happened?”
Silas remained silent, his deep gaze locked onto Lenore.
Wayne grew even more anxious. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
Finally, Silas turned to him with a slow, teasing smirk.
“If someone’s being a pain…” he said smoothly, “…just beat them until they behave.”
Wayne blinked. “Huh?”
Lenore handed the bruised and battered speedster over to Ken, completely unfazed.
“I hit him.”
The man on the ground looked up, sporting a swelling bruise on his cheek and a dusty footprint stamped across his chest.
Tears welled up in his eyes. He actually looked pitiful.
Ken let out a relieved sigh. “As long as you’re okay.”
Lenore jumped out of the Porsche with the same effortless confidence she carried in a fight. She clapped her hands together and stretched.
“I’m back.”
Ken hesitated. “Do you want a ride?”
Before Lenore could answer, a cheerful voice cut in.
“I’ll take you.”
Even at a standstill, Silas had a presence that commanded attention. His intense gaze and suffocating aura made Ken hesitate further.
Silas smiled slightly, his tone as smooth as silk. “Ms. Smedley?”
Lenore shot Ken a cool glance, both delicate and sharp.
“You handle this first,” she said, choosing Silas without a second thought.
Silas’s smirk deepened. He stepped toward the Porsche Cayenne, smoothly opening the rear door like a chauffeur.
Chuck’s eyebrows shot up. Is this really the same reserved Mr. Faulkner we know back home?
As the Porsche Cayenne pulled away, the reckless driver—now handcuffed in the police car—finally exhaled in relief.
Sitting in the backseat, he clutched his bruised face, mumbling miserably,
“Are you guys insane? So what if I modified my car and raced? You acted like a pack of lunatics—beating me up and—” He winced. “My hand’s broken… even my face…”
A young traffic cop up front rolled his eyes.
“Shut up.”
If they hadn’t dodged fast enough, half of them would’ve been dead or crippled.
In another police car, an older officer turned to Ken, still shaken.
“Mr. Sharpe… was Ms. Smedley always this wild?” he muttered. “I knew she was fierce, but this? This is next level.”
Ken pressed his lips together, staying silent.
He knew why Lenore was like this.
Three years ago, she had lost someone.
She believed that if she had just been faster that night…
Ken’s daughter wouldn’t have died.
The regret had scarred Lenore deeply, and after that year’s Formula 1 race, she vanished from the scene—barely racing since.
Inside the Porsche Cayenne
Lenore settled into her seat without a care in the world. She popped in an earbud and started playing a mobile game, fingers moving quickly and effortlessly.
Even at rest, she radiated a dangerous, restless energy, like a lioness waiting to pounce.
Silas tapped his fingers on his knee, watching her thoughtfully.
After a moment, he spoke.
“You know… unless you’re an adult, it’s better not to drive.”
Lenore glanced up but didn’t bother responding.
Wayne, sitting in the front passenger seat, couldn’t resist twisting around with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Wow. You can fight too, huh?”
Lenore finished her game, set her phone to auto-clean mode, and locked the screen calmly.
“If you don’t hit others first, you’ll just end up getting hit.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with undeniable truth.
Silence filled the car.
Wayne and Silas had heard the rumors—from Pedro, from the chaos at Culinary Ascent.
They knew pieces of Lenore’s story.
Her father had died young.
Her sister lived in luxury while she grew up alone in an orphanage.
And now, after all these years, they dragged her back—not for love, but for her mother’s inheritance.
Wayne leaned back in his seat, exhaling.
It made sense.
A girl who could fix any car, drive like a professional racer, and fight like a street warrior…
She was never meant to be ordinary.
10:30 PM – The City at Rest
Jinslenburg had quieted down, the city lights glowing softly against the night sky.
Wayne checked the time.
The school dorms were already locked.
And knowing Lenore, she wouldn’t return to the Smedley residence.
Silas, sensing the situation, glanced at her and said casually,
“Why not stay at my place tonight?”
His voice was calm and smooth, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood—fresh and grounding.
Lenore lazily leaned back, her sharp eyes flickering to the silver ring on his right pinky.
After a pause, she smirked slightly and replied,
“Thanks, then.”
