<b>9:36 </b>Wed<b>, </b><b>Sep </b>17
<b>Chapter </b><b>121 </b>
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One hourter, the sleek car pulled to a stop outside the imposing gates of the Apex Racing Club.
Xylia and Hudson stepped out, the roar of high–performance engines already humming in the air.
“This is a club owned by my friend,” Hudson exined, nodding toward theplex. “There’s a… let’s call it a ‘friendly match‘ happening here today.”
“What kind of friendly match?” Xylia asked.
“Colloquially? They’re here to ‘kick the club,” Hudson said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The wager is ownership of the entire ce.”
Xylia’s eyes widened. “The entire club? That’s the stake?”
This was far beyond a simple friendly match.
The challengers were clearly the club owner’s sworn enemies.
Hudson nodded grimly.
“My friend, Zayn Scott, and the guy leading the other team have been at each other’s throats for years. Theirtest argument was over some woman, and it escted into this. The Apex Racing Club is on the line.”
Xylia was at a loss for words.
She sneered, “They’re racers. If they have a problem, they should settle it on the track. Why drag a woman into it as an excuse?”
Hudson, detecting her scorn, could only shrug and touch his nose in embarrassment, offering no defense.
“Hudson,” Xylia pressed, “what exactly do you need me to do?”
“I’ve seen your races,” he said, his tone turning serious. “Your skills are one thing, but your strategic mind is another. I want you to lead Zayn’s racing team today. Be their tactician.”
Xylia frowned. “But I don’t know these drivers.”
“That’s why we’re here early,” he said with a grin.
Before she could protest further, he’d already grabbed her hand and pulled her through the
9:36 Wed, Sep 17
main gates, past the gleaming supercars, and into the backstage lounge.
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He pushed the door open. Five men were inside, lounging on couches and leaning against tool benches. All eyes turned to them.
“Everyone,” Hudson announced, pulling Xylia forward. “This is my little sister, Xylia.”
“Little sister?”
The five men exchanged confused nces.
“Since when do you have a sister?”
“The one who was lost! Our biological sister. We found her!” Hudson said, beaming with pride as he slung an arm around Xylia’s shoulders.
The men’s confusion melted into surprise and genuine delight. “You found her? That’s incredible! Congrattions!”
“Hey, sis, we’re Hudson’s friends,” they said, gathering around with easy smiles.
The one named Zayn stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Zayn. This is my club. If you ever want to race, juste find me.” He gave a warm, weing smile.
Hudson yfully shoved them back.
“Hey, give her some space! And she’s my sister, not yours. Don’t get any ideas.”
“You dog!” one of themughed. “Who knew you’d be such a sis–con?”
“Hey, Xylia,” another joked, “your brother’s got a terrible temper. I’ll be your new brother, okay?”
Hudson mock–kicked at him. “Get lost!”
The room erupted inughter and easygoing ribbing.
Finally, Hudson revealed the real reason they were there.
“My sister is an aplished racer. She can’tpete today because of her injuries, but I brought her to lead the team. To be your strategist.”
The five men looked at Xylia again. This time, their gazes were puzzled.
Dressed in a soft, ivory cashmere sweater and a floaty silk skirt, her delicate appearance was one of sheltered gentility, making her seem a world apart from the gritty, petrol–scented realm ofpetitive racing.
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Zayn rubbed the back of his neck, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, Xylia. It’s just… you don’t exactly look like you’re into racing.”
Hudson nced at his sister.
Today, she looked like a figure from a watercolor painting–soft, serene, and untouched— instead of someone who belonged among the roaring engines and oil–stained asphalt ofpetitive racing.
The contrast was almostical.
Hudson cleared his throat and said, “Do you still remember when I previously went to Jupiton to observe a race and filmed the entire process of a girl participating in it?”
The five men nodded, their interest piqued.
Zayn’s eyes went wide as he pointed at Xylia.
“You don’t mean…<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“Pull it up,” Hudson challenged. “Compare it to her.”
The men fumbled for their phones, pulling up the grainy, thrilling footage they’d watched countless times.
They looked from the screen–showing a determined driver masterfully controlling a powerful car–to the polished, smiling girl standing before them. The face was unmistakably the same.
A wave of shocked excitement swept through the room.
“It is her! When I saw that race, I thought her driving was absolutely badass! And she was so young–give her a few years, and she’ll be a world champion for sure!”
“Technical skill is just the start with her. Her racecraft is impable!”
“Xylia, you have to help us! Please, devise our tactics for today!”
Xylia hadn’t expected to be weed into the fold so instantly and enthusiastically.
She looked at Hudson, a silent question in her eyes.
He gently squeezed her shoulder. “I brought you here, but the choice is yours. If you’re notfortable with this, we walk away. No pressure.”
Xylia regarded him in silence, inwardly rolling her eyes.
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‘As if I have a choice now,‘ she thought. With so many people pleading with her, how could she possibly say no?
Seeing her reluctant nod, Hudson’s face broke into a grin.
“Yes! I knew I could count on you!” He excitedly guided her to the sofa. “Alright, everyone. Brief my sister. Tell her everything about your team and the guys you’re up against.”
<b>***** </b>
One hourter, Xylia had aprehensive understanding of each driver’s strengths and weaknesses.
Thinking a moment, she proposed a solution.
Hardly had she finished than a voice cut in.
The next second, the lounge door swung open to reveal a familiar figure.
Xylia stared in astonishment.
It was Xavier Zinn, Qadir Zinn’s paternal older cousin.
He maintained a rtively good rtionship with Qadir. However, his family had branched off from the main Zinn line years ago to start their ownpany.
Xavier had always been obsessed with racing, and Xylia had even raced alongside him.
It had been so long that she hadn’t made the connection when Hudson first mentioned the
name.
It was only upon seeing Xavier in person that she recognized him.
The surprise was mutual. Xavier was also surprised upon spotting her.
His eyes scanned the room beforending on her, and a sneer twisted his features. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he drawled, swaggering into the room, followed by his own
crew.
His gaze, full of contempt, slid from Xylia to Hudson and back again.
“I heard you got dumped by the Ford heir. Guess you’ve fallen so low you’re scrounging for men in Norhill now?”
He let out a coldugh. “You’d have more fun being my whore. My buddies and I know how to show a girl a good time.”
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Nylia’s frown was instant, but she never got a chance to speak. A blur of motion shot past her.
Hudson’s fist connected with Xavier’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Chaos erupted. Before anyone could react, Hudson was on him, yanking him up by the cor and driving another punch into his face. The brutal, rhythmic thuds of fist meeting flesh filled
the room.
By the time Xavier’s crew surged forward to pull him off, Xavier’s face was already a swollen, bloody mess.
Hudson delivered a final, savage kick to his ribs, his face a mask of pure rage.
“You filthy piece of trash! How dare you speak to my sister that way? Do you have a death wish? You will apologize, or I swear this isn’t over!”
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