Masked In Nobility: Secrets Of Mrs. Chavez novel Chapter 533

Chapter 533 

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Gerard’s staggering offer of one hundred million caused gasps in the room. Even Benedict, who had faced Gerard before. showed signs of distress. This amount far exceeded what many Emous racecar drivers earned, yet Yvette seemed perfectly line with it. 

As a coach and businessman, Gerard wouldn’t engage in a losing venture. His willingness to propose such a sum showed Yvette’s undeniable worth. 

Yvette frowned, showing hints of impatience as her deep–set gaze met the crowd. Her voice was cold and firm as she declared, “I refuse 

Gerard recognized her genuine disinterest. He furrowed his brow and fell silent, likely needing time to process this unprecedented rejection. 

After Yvette’s words, she turned her head toward Benedict. Her expression was completely devoid of warmth, causing him to instinctively withdraw. 

Oliver, noticing Benedict’s hesitation, scoffed “Hurry up, or my brother will give you a call” 

Oliver’s insinuation was an outright threat. Benedict maintained a stoic demeanor, but his expression darkened as he gritted 

his teeth. 

In front of the gathered audience, he started removing his clothing piece by piece, beginning with his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest and toned physique. The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts, the atmosphere on Death Road getting wild again. 

Benedict, determined, continued to undress while 

unveil the last layer–just a pair of white under rutinizing yette. His hands hovered over his belt buckle, ready to 

At that moment, Yvette casually pulled a somewhat cold hamburger from her pocket. 

As Oliver saw the hamburger in Yvette’s hand, he grimaced. He wondered, ‘Has she neglected to eat all day? She was unfazed during the race, only to get irritated over a lukewarm burger?‘ 

Benedict, hands still on his belt, paused, taken aback by Yvette’s unexpected action and unsure of her intent. 

Ignoring the astonishment, Yvette leisurely ate the now–cool hamburger, wiping her fingers clean with a tissue afterward. 

Noticing Benedict still resting his hands on his belt, she frowned and said flatly, “Continue undressing.” 

Benedict, seething with frustration, decided to shed his jeans, leaving him in nothing but his underpants. 

He met Yvette’s gaze provocatively. “What do you think of my physique? Surely it’s superior to any man you’ve 

encountered.” 

The crowd began to murmur among themselves. “Benedict’s physique is impressive.” 

“I heard rumors he was once sponsored by a wealthy woman for his looks.” 

“I’ve heard that too; during tough times, he even sold himself for cash.” 

Confident in his physique, Benedict felt liberated, having stripped away his last bit of dignity. 

Yvette lifted her eyelids and responded with disdain, “Not impressive. Even as a gigolo in Clusia, you’d be ineligible! 

Oliver erupted in laughter, soon joined by the spectators roaring with mirth. Benedict’s face darkened with embarrassment 

10:13 Tue. Dec 24 

Chapter 533 

Oliver remembered that just days earlier, he had foolishly confronted Yvette and received a well–deserved thrashing. In fact, he was lucky, since her words could cut even deeper. 

Yvette didn’t spare Benedict a glance as she turned and climbed into her Maserati. Lowering the window, she told Oliver, The car will be returned to the Yoder family by tomorrow.” 

The engine roared to life, and she sped away, leaving Oliver in a stupor, battling the urge to ask for a ride. 

As Yvette’s car descended, Braydon’s phone rang in the heavy–duty armored vehicle traversing the mountainside. 

“Mr. Goodman, Yvette is on her way down; she should reach your location in about ten minutes,” reported Braydon’s subordinate cautiously, 

Braydon’s eyes glinted with frost as he furrowed his brows, shadowed with intensity. After ending the call, he exited the vehicle and positioned himself in front. 

In just seven minutes, Yvette maneuvered her Maserati at breakneck speed, arriving at Braydon’s location. 

As she turned a corner, she spotted the black car parked on the hillside, alongside Braydon, who stood waiting. Yvette showed no surprise; her demeanor was unfazed. 

Her long lashes cast shadows beneath her sharp gaze, as her lips curled subtly, her cold eyes narrowing into fierce slits. She pressed the accelerator. 

The Maserati showed no signs of slowing down, hurtling straight toward Braydon. As it closed in to just 0.2 miles away, it was clear a collision was about to happen.