Chapter 253
Before Ethan could react, Isabella had already turned away, her back disappearing into the crowd.
Under the blinding flash of cameras, Isabella stood tall at the winner’s podium, the gold medal glinting around her neck. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause.
“Ms. Sinclair is truly remarkable! To achieve such a feat at her age—who knew we’d witness a professional-level performance today?” A spectator nudged his companion. “And that masked guy beside her—Nathan, right? Even now, he won’t show his face. What’s his deal?”
“This race was insane. Those two who got disqualified crossed the line.”
“Disqualified? More like arrested. The judges called the police on them. The prize money was huge, but to cheat like that? Almost got someone killed. Pathetic.”
Ethan remained frozen, his gaze locked on Isabella as she stood victorious. From the very start, she had carried herself with effortless grace, her composure unshaken even now, despite the faint crease between her brows. The way she held herself—regal, confident—bore no resemblance to the timid woman she had once been.
His chest tightened with emotions he couldn’t name. Isabella had outclassed him completely.
From behind, Sophia wrapped her arms around him, her voice soft but laced with concern. “Ethan… Did we really lose to Isabella?” Though phrased as a question, the implication was clear—she was pointing fingers at the chaos during the race.
“I was terrified,” she murmured, pressing closer. “If something had happened to you…” She exhaled dramatically. “It was those cheaters—connected to Isabella somehow—who ruined your performance.” She tilted her head, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “To me, you’re still the best. If the race had been fair, she never would’ve won.”
The accusation hung in the air, heavy and deliberate. Of course, Sophia was implying foul play. How else could such a disaster have unfolded? And who else but Isabella would benefit?
Yet, beneath her sweet facade, resentment simmered. She had never imagined Isabella could be this skilled—her technique nearly professional. The loss meant forfeiting the family heirloom, and that stung.
Ethan, however, stayed silent.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Now that the adrenaline had faded, the truth was undeniable. Even if they raced again, Isabella would still leave him in the dust.
Because in that critical moment, when danger had struck, she hadn’t faltered. She had surged forward with raw, unrelenting power—her speed unmatched, her movements precise, her endurance beyond his.
She had trained for this.
Professionally.
The realization burned.
But pride refused to let him accept defeat fully.
“Still… today wasn’t my best.”
As he wrestled with his thoughts, Olivia and Isabella approached. Before he could react, a staff member stepped forward, expression stern.
“Mr. Blackwood, Ms. Sinclair mentioned you made a bet. If you lost, you’d kneel and apologize. Is that true?”
Before Ethan could answer, Olivia smoothly cut in, flashing a sharp smile. “Oh, it’s true. Plenty of witnesses.” She had long grown tired of Ethan and Sophia’s arrogance. With a quick gesture, she signaled to someone nearby, who handed her a megaphone.
“Attention, everyone!” Olivia’s voice boomed across the venue. “The great Ethan Blackwood, heir of the prestigious Blackwood family, lost a bet! And guess what? He’s about to honor his word—kneel and apologize!”
The crowd went wild.
