All Chapters of Navy's Sons: Bullied by Quadruplet Stepbrothers: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Tabitha’s POVThe engines start to growl across the field. The sound hums through the metal barricades and vibrates in my chest. I take a bite of my tanghulu as I watch the racers lining up near their respective grids and staging areas. Reed and Luca nod at each other before moving toward their motorcycles.I’m not gonna lie, they look pretty damn cool right now. A part of me is celebrating the fact that I dragged myself to watch this event after days of hesitating. After all, it’s not every day that I get to see them wearing those tight-fit racing leathers.They both pull on their gloves, exchange a few words with the marshals, then lower their visors. Luca glances up one last time before putting on his helmet. His hazel eyes find mine and for a moment, it feels like the world slows. Then, the visor clicks into place and he disappears behind the dark tint. Evren and Jace are still hovering on the side though, like a pair of hard-core coaches who are throwing a last-minute pep talk.J

Tabitha’s POV“GO RHETT! YOU BETTER QUALIFY OR ELSE I’M GONNA BURN YOUR CD COLLECTION!” Evelyn screams at the top of her lungs, almost destroying the metal railing with her grip.“Wow,” Jace says, half laughing, “I’m sure he feels the love. Nothing like a death threat to motivate your brother.”Evelyn shoots him a glare. “It’s called tough support.”“Yeah? I’d hate to see your version of gentle support.” Jace props his elbows on the railing, smirking at her. “You’d probably knit him a scarf that says try harder.”“I actually would,” she fires back. “He needs one for when he loses.”“Good to know you’re already planning for that outcome,” Jace replies with mock sympathy.The announcer’s voice blares through the speakers before Evelyn can retort.“Racers, to your marks! First round of qualifying is about to begin! Get ready!”“It’s starting!” Evelyn exclaims in excitement.I hold my breath, eyes fix on the neat lines of racers below us. Why do I feel nervous?“Racers, start your engines

Tabitha’s POV“Andrew? Oh my god. I can’t believe it’s you!” I exclaim, my voice trembling as I step forward.King… Kingsley. Andrew Kingsley! This is crazy, I didn’t even consider the possibility that the man behind the orange racing suit is my friend!He laughs as he hands his helmet to one of his team staff.“Yeah. It feels strange to see you here…in a completely different environment!” He looks at you from head to toe and grins. “And look at that tan. Is the sun better here or something?”“Don’t be silly. C’mere.” I open my arms and launch myself into him, wrapping my arms tightly around his shoulders. He hugs me back immediately, chuckling as he taps my back.“Yeah, I know. I miss you too,” he says smugly. So, I smack him.Andrew laughs again while stroking his arm like an injured puppy. “Ouch! That’s my dominant arm. And I still have a race tomorrow. Are you trying to sabotage me?”“Stop being such a drama king, Andrew. We both know both of your arms are dominant,” I fire back i

Tabitha’s POV“Riders, take your positions. Ready. Set—go!”The race begins with a violent roar. All ten riders surge forward like a pack of unleashed beasts, determined to devour each other to claim the title as the King of this metal racing jungle. Engines scream across the track, each bike darting into its chosen line as the announcer’s voice rises over the thunder.“Here they go!” the announcer booms, voice cracking with excitement. “The championship race is officially underway! The riders take off with full throttle, and already Reed Aldair in red is asserting dominance, taking an early lead as he handles the opening corners with surgical precision. Luca Aldair in green stays close behind, showing the same calm focus that has earned him the sport yesterday!”From the VIP deck, I lean forward, eyes tracking the blur of colors as the top ten streaked across the first bend. Red, green, blue, orange, navy, gold, brown, violet-gray, purple, black—a kaleidoscope of speed slicing throug

Tabitha’s POVI barely notice the motion of the vehicle as it carries us from the track to somewhere else entirely. Andrew sits beside me quietly while I try to process everything. One moment I’m at the track watching my stepbrothers getting carted out to an ambulance, and the next moment, I’m being ushered into a private yacht. The doors close, the staff step back, and suddenly I realize we are inside.I look around. The yacht rocks gently as it leaves the shore. The music from the orchestra just a few meters away from our table swells softly, a slow romantic rhythm that feels almost cruel against the chaos still crawling through my mind. I feel disconnected, like I am watching someone else as the scene around me unfolds.“Can you believe they made us do this after the race?” Andrew laughs softly, swirling the champagne on his glass.He glances at some of the journalists in the corner of the yacht who are not even trying to conceal their presence. There are over at least ten of them,