NovelFinishChapter 272 Aren't You Afraid Of Flipping-The Car The lecture hall, meant for three hundred students, was bursting at the seams. Makeshift stools cluttered the aisles, and clusters of listeners jammed every doorway.
Anticipation was written on every face.
Brenna's usual icy calm gave way to an unusual half-smile. Despite the inflammatory forum threads that had spread like wildfire, the students' genuine hunger for knowledge burned hotter than campus gossip.
Brenna's lips curled in fleeting amusement before she began the lecture, voice calm.
At half past five in the afternoon, a wave of students surged toward Brenna after the lecture, arms full of flowers, chocolates, embossed resumes, and love letters. Brenna had to put in real effort just to free herself from the eager crowd.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAt the parking lot, she found her car nearly swallowed by gifts and letters.
Tommy stood by the overloaded vehicle, looking defeated. When the trunk refused to shut no matter how he wrestled with it, he called for a cargo van. Back at the Harper family's residence, Tommy gestured toward the mountain of presents. "What are you going to do with these?" he asked Brenna.
"I'm not sure," Brenna said, looking at the gifts. "They reflect the students' sincerity. Check and store the gifts. Arrange and display the flowers in the house. Threw away the love letters. And I'll give you the resumes soon." Staff appeared immediately. Tommy coordinated the sorting, guiding the servants through the process.
When Julia handed Brenna the thick stack of love letters, Brenna looked completely exasperated. She truly couldn't tell whether these grad students had cfor her lectures or for something else.
"Shred them," she said flatly.
Julia grinned. "You're not even curious? Don't you want to read them before that?" Saturday cquickly-race day.
Brenna joined Ethan at Shirie International Circuit, a top-tier racing complex sprawling across the city's southwestern edge. It featured several specialized tracks and state-of-the-art equipment that met the highest global standards.
The rare weekend race had drawn crowds of motorsport fans. Speople even carried binoculars, scanning the massive venue for the best views.
17.04 As soon as Ethan's leather shoes touched the asphalt, his phone rang. He wedged it between his ear and shoulder while pulling Brenna's racing suit from the trunk.
His grip tightened on the phone. "Fix this before Monday, or you can pack up your things and leave," he said, voice cold.
Once he hung up, Brenna asked, "Something wrong?" "Just a small issue at one of the branches. Nothing serious," Ethan replied.
Brenna didn't give it much thought, but Ethan's instincts flared. The Ward family held sway in the region of that branch. For a problem to suddenly erupt there, today of all days, was too much of a coincidence At the prep hall entrance, Ethan handed Brenna a document bag. "I need to take care of it. Wait here." Brenna nodded and stepped inside alone.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmHeads turned the moment she walked in. She immediately spotted Jade in the center of a small crowd, Isabella hovering nearby with a flattering smile.
Jade smiled faintly at her circle. "Can't tell if she's brave or foolish. She actually came. Miss Barrett, if you pull this off, you will get what you want." Then she grabbed her handbag and left the group with a light tone. "I need to go talk strategy with my co- driver." The others smiled politely as Jade walked away.
Brenna recognized the faces-Isabella, of course, but also Rosie, now walking again, her friend Vivian, and a few other socialites she only vaguely remembered. Rosie led the group toward Brenna, with the rest tagging along like satellites. Brenna didn't move.
"You're actually racing?" Rosie asked, clearly surprised. Brenna's equestrian success had already changed her perspective, but she hadn't expected Brenna to know how to race.
Brenna settled into the leather chair, her expression cold. From her om handbag, she retrieved a tablet, its glow casting sharp light across her features as she scanned Thiago's track analytics and race strategy. Rosie slipped into the seat beside her, uninvited. "When did you pick up this particular skill?" she asked, her curiosity evident.
She gave Brenna a once-over-slim frame, smooth hands, not a trace of wear or callus. Brenna didn't have the hands of a seasoned racer.
The thought of Brenna crashing sparked a flicker of thrill Rosie barely managed to hide.
"Racing isn't like horseback riding," Rosie said with sudden gravity. "One wrong move, and the car won't just stop-it'll tear itself apart, maybe take you with it." Isabella also said to Brenna, her voice sharp, "You always need the spotlight. Aren't you afraid of flipping the car?" Brenna looked up. "Yet, you are also here." 17.04
"I'm just here to watch the race," Isabella said. "Having a license om doesn't make you a Xacer: Those tracks out there-gravel, mud, uneven terrain-they'll eat amateurs alive. With your basic skills, you won't last a lap,"
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