Chapter 112:
Brendon’s knees buckled, and for a moment, he nearly collapsed. A flicker of worry flashed in Yolanda’s eyes as she reached out to steady him. “Are you alright?”
Drawing in a shaky breath, Brendon forced himself to calm down. Blinking hard, he looked up again, the fog in his vision clearing. He managed a quiet reply. “I’m okay.”
“If you’re really feeling unwell, we should go back to the hospital,” Yolanda suggested, her voice gentle but firm.
“That’s not necessary.” He waved her off, his lips, drained of color, tightening in stubborn defiance. Not for a moment did he consider leaving. He was determined to stay and watch Christina lose this match. More than anything, he wanted to witness the tricks she would use to win Bruno’s attention.
The intensity in Brendon’s eyes was unmistakable, and Yolanda clenched her fists in silent frustration. Despite his obvious discomfort, he refused to move—all because of Christina. Why did he insist on watching her? Did he want to see her fail, or was there something else he couldn’t admit?
To Yolanda, Brendon had once felt like a kite she could guide at will. In the past, she held the string and felt in control, letting him drift or pulling him close as she pleased. But lately, it seemed as though he was slipping away, no longer tethered to her. That creeping sense of losing control gnawed at her.
Yolanda fixed her gaze on Christina, her eyes blazing with a look so sharp it seemed filled with poison. In her mind, Christina was to blame for everything. If only Christina would disappear.
Meanwhile, in the center of the arena, Bruno’s attention was fixed on Christina, unable to look away. For the longest time, he believed that Davina’s wild, magnetic beauty was unmatched. He was shocked when he realized that Davina’s backup was even more stunning, and the mere sight of her sent a jolt of longing through him. He gave Davina a questioning look, lifting an eyebrow, and his voice took on a teasing edge. “Don’t tell me this is the backup you brought in.”
𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲: g․𝗮𝗅𝗇․𝗈ν․𝖊．𝗅𝘀．ⅽ𝗈．𝗆
Davina shot daggers back at him with her glare. “That’s right. What about it?” With a half-smirk, Bruno leaned in. “Why not get a skilled racer to fight your battle in the second round? Otherwise, people will say I’m bullying you.”
A cold laugh escaped Davina. “No need.”
“Fine. Just remember, I offered you a chance, and you declined it. If you end up losing again in the second round, you’ll lose this match,” Bruno said, his smug grin making it clear he already believed victory was his.
Rolling her eyes, Davina snapped, “Stop wasting time! You’re going to lose anyway. Let’s get started!”
That display of confidence made Bruno chuckle. “Seriously? You really think your friend can beat us? How hilarious.”
Roars of laughter erupted from Bruno’s cronies at his comment. One of them leaned in with a mocking grin. “You sure talk tough, but do you have any clue who you’re up against?”
“Our racer has been sitting at number two in the pro circuit for ages. Even if Skybreaker and Darknight entered, he’d still be top three—no contest.”
.
.
.