Chapter 49:

Without uttering a single word, Rylie settled herself inside Brad’s car.

Crolens’ legendary winding mountain road, home to the World Racing Knockout Tournament, was notorious for its steep descent and endless hairpin curves — features that made the race daunting even for seasoned drivers. Above, a helicopter hovered, its blades slicing through a gentle drizzle as it circled the mountain.

Brad broke the silence, his tone even. “From what I’ve heard, this course hasn’t seen a race in five years. The extreme elevation shifts put both drivers and their machines to the test. They also say the fatality rate is no joke.”

Rylie stretched out in the seat, unfazed. “I’m impressed you’re so well-versed in this track’s reputation.”

Brad turned, his eyes searching. “Feeling prepared? I haven’t spotted your name in any major races before. Is this your championship debut?”

A ghost of a smile flickered on Rylie’s lips, her eyes shining with quiet determination. “Officially, yes. But if we’re talking experience, there isn’t a soul here who can outdrive me.”

No one who watched her could dismiss the authority she carried, despite her youth.

The rain had stopped by the time they reached the foot of the mountain, and the helicopter touched down. Already, the area buzzed with racers and eager onlookers. Jumping from the helicopter, Rylie started to thank Brad, only to catch a shadow of emotion crossing his face as he lingered in the cabin.

Her gaze drifted skyward, and with a sudden motion, she dug a candy from her bag, tore off the wrapper, and signaled from the edge of the aircraft. “Come here. Bend down.”

Brad paused, weighing her request, then ducked down from the helicopter, curiosity clear in his expression.

His voice was steady. “What is it?”

Rylie pressed the candy gently to Brad’s lips, her fingertip leaving a fleeting touch that unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain.

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Brock, the vigilant soldier assigned to Brad’s security, sprang forward. “Sir! You really shouldn’t accept food from anyone!”

Ignoring the protest, Rylie parted Brad’s lips with practiced confidence and slipped the candy inside. The moisture from her fingers lingered briefly before she wiped her hand on her pants.

Rylie handed him a small tin of mint candy. “I made it myself. The medicine’s aftereffects might still linger, especially with the altitude changes. This should help you adjust.”

Instead, a cool burst of mint spread through Brad’s mouth, soothing the pressure in his chest almost immediately.

He waved his hand to indicate to Brock that he was fine, his expression softening slightly. “It does help.”

A quick grin flashed across Rylie’s face. “Time for me to go.”

While she disappeared into the crowd, Brad’s hand drifted to his mouth, and a quiet chuckle escaped him. “Fascinating woman.”

Subtle shifts in Brad’s mood never escaped Rylie’s attention, and she picked up on it instinctively.

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