Chapter 251
At the referee’s signal, the racers exploded forward like bullets from a gun.
Alexander’s gaze flicked to Isabella, who surged beside him with unshakable focus. He hadn’t expected her to be the type to crave speed, but then again—this was the same woman who had once held a gun to his head without hesitation. Isabella Sinclair was full of surprises.
Right now, her attention was razor-sharp, locked onto the race. The wind howled past her ears as she leaned into the momentum. It wasn’t just the competition that thrilled her—it was the raw, unchecked power of movement itself.
Her eyes narrowed on the skater ahead—Travis. Is he trying to bait us? She wasn’t fooled. As an endurance racer, she knew the real sprint came at the end. His early burst was a trap, meant to exhaust the others before the final laps.
Within seconds, she matched his pace, her movements fluid and relentless. The crowd erupted in shock as the two left the pack behind.
“What the hell? Someone’s keeping up with Travis?”
“Are they even human? It’s only the third lap!”
“Look—that girl’s about to pass him!”
Ethan’s jaw dropped. This wasn’t just fast—it defied logic. Skaters conserved energy for the final push, but Isabella and Travis were rewriting the rules. If this was a game, Isabella was playing at a level no one had anticipated.
Gritting his teeth, Ethan shook his head. He’d expected her to burn out by now.
Alexander, spotting Isabella’s crimson suit flashing past, allowed himself a small smirk. He pushed harder, feeding off the adrenaline. It had been years since he’d felt this kind of fire. Isabella wasn’t just fast—she was trained. And he couldn’t help but wonder what else she was hiding.
By the fourth lap, she was neck-and-neck with Travis—but something felt wrong. A frown creased her brow as two skaters closed in from either side. If she dodged, she’d slam into the boards. One misstep could send her flying—career-ending, if not worse.
Her instincts screamed. “Don’t even think about cheating!” she snapped.
They didn’t listen. If anything, they sped up.
This wasn’t racing. This was a hit.
Alexander saw it too. The way they moved—too coordinated, too deliberate. Why target Isabella? She had no history with them.
He surged forward, ready to intervene—but Isabella didn’t wait.
In a breathtaking burst, she accelerated, weaving between them like a ghost. Travis, as if reading her mind, cut off their pursuit. The two saboteurs, thrown off balance, crashed into each other and smashed into the boards with a deafening crack.
The crowd roared.
“Did she just—?”
“That was insane!”
“Wait—the refs are coming!”
The first attacker lunged again, aiming straight for her. The second blocked her escape. No matter what she did, a collision was inevitable.
This wasn’t just about the race.
They wanted her gone.
A cold realization prickled her skin. Assassins? But no—the Burned Hands wouldn’t be this sloppy.
In a split-second decision, she darted forward, threading the needle between them. Travis mirrored her, cutting off their path. The two men tangled, crashing hard into the barriers.
The arena erupted in chaos.
