My Unwanted Savage Bride 51

Posted by Admind, ? Views, Released on February 6, 2025

Chapter 51

Hanging at Regal Villas, Chuck had been snooping on Lenore, piqued by Silas’s sudden interest in her. He’d even made a forum account to snoop around on Greenvine High School’s message board.

The homepage today was all about showing off a report card with a caption that read, “Last week, she nailed a perfect zero across the board, but this week it’s a slow climb–one, two, three, all the way up to six points. What’s her deal?”

Chuck clicked for a closer look, the scores climbing like steps, and he couldn’t help but wince. He glanced up at Wayne and murmured, “Mr. Garcia, you think Mr. Faulkner’s got a thing for Lenore?”

He’d met Lenore and knew she could handle a car, but her rep on Greenvine High School’s forum was nada.

Wayne gave him a side–eye, then a look over his shoulder, and sucked his teeth. “I’m asking myself the same question.”

A shiver ran down Chuck’s spine. He spun to find Silas looming behind him. Chuck shifted, offering a weak grin. “Just curious, you know…”

Silas’s face, all hard lines, gave nothing away. He sidestepped Chuck, snatched the phone, and lounged on the couch, legs crossed, opening the image of Lenore’s grades. He figured Lenore’s record grades were bogus too; she must have been super bored at school.

A smirk played on Silas’s lips, his eyes dancing. He flipped the phone back to Chuck and casually asked, “You think you could pull off scores that neat without rigging the test?”

Chuck shook his head. He thought, ‘Wait, is he saying Ms. Smedley’s juicing the grades? No way!

That afternoon, Lenore strolled out of Greenvine High School’s gates after the final bell, a slip excusing her from tonight’s study hall. A row of sports cars idled outside.

There was Carlos, decked out in leather, hair slicked back, the picture of cool defiance, a cigarette hanging from his lips, and an ego you couldn’t miss.

With one hand on her backpack strap, Lenore raised an eyebrow with a mischievous glint. “Here for another beating?”

Ivan ducked like a reflex. Carlos blew out a cloud of smoke and cut to the chase. “Lenore, I’m challenging you to a race.”

Lenore’s brow arched. “Race what?”

“Drag racing,” Carlos replied.

Lenore paused with her head tilted, her eyes gleaming with disdain. “What’s in it for me?”

“I won’t back down!” Carlos flicked his cigarette to the pavement and ground it out. “You’re supposed to be a great driver, right? If I win, you must do whatever I say. If you win, I’ll bow down and apologize again!”

This was Ivan’s brainstorm. They couldn’t go head–to–head with Lenore, not with Silas and Wayne at her back, so they’d take her on in a race without tricks. For Carlos, it was about reclaiming his swagger, and he was ready to give it all.

Lenore slipped her hands into her pockets, a chuckle escaping her. “Could be fun.”

Seeing he had her, Carlos’s eyes sparkled as he said, “We’ll race dirt bikes, and I pick the track.”

“Here’s the deal.” Lenore licked her lips, her eyes narrowing with a chill arrogance in her gaze. “If I lose, I’m at your mercy. If you lose… Besides your apology, I take half of the Duncan family’s fortune!” She was outrageously confident.

Ivan blinked and then laughed. “You’re not afraid of overplaying your hand?”

They’d grown up on bikes with a few underground clubs. Not everyone who could drive a car could ride a motorcycle, and they knew the track they’d picked down pat. Ivan was so sure they’d win. He’d eat his bike if Lenore took the prize.

Carlos’s boys hooted. He couldn’t call dibs on half the family fortune, but he was determined to win. Gritting his teeth, he sneered, “Half it is. Race is on for tomorrow night.” With that, he and his crew peeled out.

A Porsche Cayenne rolled up next, pulling over by the curb. The door swung open, and Silas stepped out with elegance, carrying a crisp sandalwood scent, his voice smooth as he said, “Need a hand?”