The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 124
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Chapter 124:
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“If she’s sick, she should go to the hospital.”
Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.
Turning back to Nate, Moses noticed his friend lost in thought, his fingers idly tracing the edge of a paper.
“Nate?”
“Sudden fever?” Nate mused aloud, his tone curious.
Moses hesitated before smirking knowingly. His voice carried a note of derision as he replied, “It’s just another one of her theatrics. Probably took a cold bath to pull this off. Her acting could use some work.”
“It does seem a bit… deliberate,” Nate remarked, his lips curving into a faint, sardonic smile.
Moses studied him for a moment, sensing that Nate’s thoughts were drifting far beyond their conversation.
“Nate,” he said, leaning forward with renewed determination, “let’s have some fun tonight, okay? I heard it’s going to rain. Perfect weather for a late-night race. It’s been ages since we had any real excitement.”
Rain?
The suggestion sparked a subtle interest in Nate’s eyes.
“Alright,” he responded.
The sky hung heavy with dark, swirling clouds, casting an ominous shadow over the nearly empty streets. The lively hum of the racetrack in the eastern part of the city felt out of place amidst the stillness of the surroundings. This track was one of the few in the country that hosted official races, open to the public only during rallies or friendly competitions. At the starting line, a few cars, their paint gleaming in the dim light, revved their engines, the sound a challenge thrown into the air.
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As the referee waved the flag, the cars shot forward with the ferocity of wild beasts breaking free.
Though they were here for a simple race, the track seemed to ignite something more primal—the competitive spirit between the men roaring to life. The race grew more intense with each lap, the cars neck and neck, engines growling with effort.
After five laps, Nate’s sleek black Aventador crossed the finish line first, followed closely by Zack, and finally Moses.
As the three stepped out of their cars, staff members rushed over, eager to check the vehicles for any signs of damage or wear.
Moses pulled off his helmet, his hair slightly disheveled, and grinned in frustration.
“Damn it! Let’s race again!” The sting of losing burned in his chest.
Zack’s lips curled into a smirk.
“Doesn’t matter how many times we race.”
“Zack, that’s a weak excuse. I was holding back before. If you’ve got the guts, let’s go again,” Moses shot back, watching as Zack walked away, his challenge still hanging in the air.
Zack casually loosened the collar of his racing suit, his tone lazy.
.
.
.