Chapter 2

The smile dropped off Ethan's face.

His brow furrowed, an edge of impatience in his voice.

"Sara, what are you stirring up now? She's just a kid from some dirt-poor town. What could you possibly have against her?"

I gave a cold laugh and threw it right back.

"Against her? Against the fact that she's strutting around the team in my old suit and your three-hundred-thousand-dollar helmet, getting special treatment and playing footsie with my husband?"

Ethan's voice climbed a notch.

"There's nothing going on."

"I brought her in for her talent. Her cornering data is the best on the team. She's our shot at the championship this year."

He stepped forward, reaching to pull me against his shoulder.

"Babe, be reasonable. Don't let one helmet wreck the whole team."

I twisted out of his reach, my eyes ice.

"I said fire her."

"I don't meddle in how the team's run. My reason is simple."

"She makes me sick."

Ethan dropped the act entirely, and his face went dark.

"Sara, quit being unreasonable. Breaking a driver's contract means a massive penalty payout. I'm not burying a once-in-a-generation talent over your spoiled-princess tantrum."

[God, Mr. Black is magnificent, standing up to this psycho to protect Daisy.]

[Exactly. He can't let some bitter has-been kill Daisy's dream.]

The text cheered.

I looked at his face, so full of righteous principle, and felt the air go thin in my lungs.

[Spoiler alert. Later, jealous Sara cuts Daisy's brake lines. Ethan finds out, severs the tendons in her hands, and has her committed.]

The cold shot from my feet straight to the crown of my skull.

So that was my ending.

I forced the nausea down, lowered my eyes, and spoke softly.

"Fine. If she's such a genius, we won't fire her."

Ethan visibly relaxed and came over to take my hand again.

"That's more like it. Babe, thank you for under—"

I cut him off, lifted my head, and looked straight into his eyes.

"But I want the title to the Phantom signed over to my name."

The air in the office went solid.

The Phantom was Redline Racing's crown jewel, a one-of-a-kind race car Ethan had spent over ten million dollars to win at auction overseas. His pride and joy.

His face went livid, and the words came grinding out through his teeth.

"Sara, don't push your luck."

His phone rang, breaking the standoff.

He glanced at the screen, picked up instantly, and his tone flipped to anxious.

"Mr. Williams, please, don't be upset. I'll come handle it right away."

He hung up, didn't spare me a look, and strode for the door.

"Trouble with a sponsor. I have to go. I'll have my assistant take you home."

[Hilarious. This crazy woman wants the Phantom too? She should check whether she even measures up. That car's going to be Daisy's personal ride.]

I went home alone to the empty house and opened the door to the basement storage.

I brushed away a thick layer of dust cloth and found it underneath. A racing suit scarred with wear, and in the corner, a few championship trophies gone gray with neglect.

My eyes finally settled on the map pinned to the wall, a circuit map with one corner torn away.

The most dangerous course in the world. The Isle of Man TT.

Ethan had held me in that grubby little garage more than once and sworn to me.

"Sara, when we've got money, I'll build you the meanest car with my own two hands and ride that death course with you. We'll conquer it together."

The vow still rang in my ears. He'd probably forgotten it.

I logged into the racing world's private forum and updated the trial-run data and résumé I'd kept sealed for eight years.

Then I sent it out to a few of the top teams in the country.

The next morning, I tried to service my long-abandoned old motorcycle.

It had been too long. My strength and my touch had both gone rusty.

The scalding exhaust pipe left a vicious red welt across my forearm.

"Sara."

Ethan walked in just in time to see it and rushed over, his face tight with worry, fetching an ice pack to press against the burn.

[Is this the self-harm-for-sympathy routine? Disgusting.]

[Mr. Black's going to get sick of her drama sooner or later.]

He pressed the ice gently to my skin and murmured an explanation.

"I was too harsh yesterday. I already moved Daisy down to the second-string reserve squad. Don't be angry anymore, all right?"

I pulled my arm back, no expression on my face.

"Team personnel moves are none of my business."

His throat worked. He crouched down without a word and started gathering up the tools scattered across the floor.

That was when my phone rang.

It was Apex Racing's manager.

"Ms. Bennett, we've reviewed your résumé and your data. We'd like to formally invite you for a tryout tomorrow."

I looked at Ethan, frozen where he stood, and answered, my voice light.

"I'll be there. On time."

I hung up and met his stunned eyes.

"Ethan, starting today, I'm done working behind the scenes. I'm going back on the track."