Samantha had always known her father was a man who dealt in power, in manipulation, and in games that were played with the highest stakes. But she hadn't truly understood the depth of it until that moment—the moment when Maxwell accepted her challenge, and the stakes were raised higher than ever.
She stood in the dimly lit garage, her fingers gripping the cool, steel frame of her racing car. The engine hummed with a low growl beneath her, almost as if it sensed her unease. She could hear the faint echo of voices from outside the garage—Maxwell's smooth, condescending tone floating through the thick walls like poison. He was waiting. He had always been waiting for the moment when she would break. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
The sound of footsteps broke her concentration, and she whipped around, only to meet the cold eyes of Maxwell himself.
"Thought you'd be here," he said, his voice oozing that same calm arrogance that had made her blood boil the moment they'd met. His gaze swept over her car, taking in the details like he had already seen everything about her life laid out before him.
"What do you want?" she snapped, though her voice was tighter than she intended. She knew she had to remain calm; the last thing she needed was to let him see how rattled she was inside. He had already pushed her father's buttons, and now, he was playing with hers.
Maxwell leaned against the hood of her car, his hands casually tucked in his pockets as if he had all the time in the world. "I thought we might discuss the terms of our bet."
Samantha felt her muscles tense. "There are no terms. You race. You lose, you walk away. That's it."
"Is that so?" His lips curled into a smile, and she hated it more than anything. He was so calm, so collected, like everything was falling into place exactly as he had planned. She could feel the weight of the trap closing in around her.
"I'll race you," she continued, her voice steadier now, despite the nerves gnawing at her insides. "But it's not just about a race. It's about something more. You know that, right?"
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I'm listening."
"You don't know me, Maxwell," she said, stepping closer to him. "You think you can control me, but I'm not your puppet. I never was. This marriage? It's a cage. And I'll break free of it, no matter what it takes."
Maxwell's smirk never faltered, and a flash of something unreadable flickered in his dark eyes. "Oh, I know exactly what you are, Samantha. You're a firebrand, a rebel who thinks she can win every battle. But life isn't about winning every battle. It's about the bigger picture."
She glared at him, her fists clenching. "The bigger picture is my freedom. Not your damned empire."
Maxwell's eyes locked onto hers, the intensity of his gaze sharpening. For a moment, it felt like the world around them had frozen. It was just the two of them, two forces clashing in a space too small for both of them to exist comfortably. "You think you can outsmart me? That this race is going to be your way out?" he said, his voice suddenly cold. "You're playing with fire, Samantha. I have more power in this city than you could ever imagine. And if you want to escape, I'll make sure it's a race you won't survive."
Samantha's heart skipped a beat, but she wasn't about to let him intimidate her. She had survived worse. She had fought harder. And she wasn't going to back down now.
"You've made your mistake, Maxwell," she said, her voice steady. "Underestimating me."
He chuckled darkly, his eyes glimmering with something dangerous. "I haven't underestimated you, Samantha. I've been counting on you. Because you'll never win this race. I'll make sure of it."
The door to the garage suddenly creaked open, and both of them turned to see her father standing there, his expression as cold as stone.
"Enough of this," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Maxwell's right. You think you're going to race your way out of this, but you've already lost."
Samantha's stomach sank. She had expected Maxwell to pull some kind of stunt, but she hadn't expected her father to be in on it.
"Dad," she said, her voice shaking with anger and disbelief. "You're really going to let him do this?"
Her father's gaze softened for just a moment, but then he straightened his posture, his cold business mask slipping back into place. "This isn't about what you want, Samantha. It never was. It's about what's best for this family. And you will marry Maxwell. You'll do your duty. And you'll do it without protest. If you think I'm going to let you destroy everything I've built, you're wrong. It's time you faced the reality of who you are."
Samantha's heart pounded in her chest. The weight of his words felt like a vice tightening around her chest. "I'm not your puppet!" she screamed, her voice filled with rage. "I won't do this!"
Her father's eyes hardened. "Then you'll lose everything. And I mean everything. This race, your freedom—it's all nothing more than a fleeting moment. You'll be stuck in this life forever."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Maxwell stepped forward, his voice smooth as velvet. "It's settled, then. We race tonight. I'll see you on the track, Samantha. If you win, we'll talk. If you lose, well… let's just say, I'll take what's mine."
Samantha swallowed hard, the knot in her throat threatening to choke her. But she wasn't going to give in. Not yet.
As Maxwell walked out, her father remained, watching her with a knowing expression.
"You've already lost," he said quietly, before turning and walking away.
Samantha stood alone in the garage, her fists clenched, her heart pounding. She had to win. She had to. But there was one thing she didn't understand. The threat that Maxwell had made—that he would take what was his—kept echoing in her mind. Was it just a game to him, or was there more to it?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, dragging her from her thoughts. She pulled it out, expecting a message from one of her friends. Instead, it was a text from an unknown number:
"Your father's deal isn't the only one on the table. You might want to rethink your options."
Her blood ran cold. Who could this be? And what did they know?
The race was tonight. But now, she wasn't just racing for her freedom—she was racing against time. And she had no idea what she was truly up against.