Lucien's POV
I held my breath. The second Braelyn's car veered off course, the world fell silent. The roar of the crowd dimmed, the engines blurred into a dull hum, and for that terrifying heartbeat, all I could see was her fighting for control.
Her car spun dangerously close to the edge. Everyone gasped, expecting the crash. But instead of panicking, she counter-steered with precision, her movements sharp and calculated. The car straightened, dust rising like smoke behind her tyres.
I exhaled only when she got back on track. The crowd erupted, the commentators shouting her name even though she came in second. Amber's car crossed the finish line just a fraction earlier, but all eyes were on Braelyn.
That wasn't luck. That was training. Serious, rigorous training. There was no way this was the same Braelyn Volkov who hosted quiet charity dinners and kept her emotions locked behind polite smiles. No… this was someone else.
