Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 104

"You... you don't think I'm delusional?"

"When I wanted to race professionally, every single person told me I was delusional. You were the only one who believed I'd take the championship."

Randal looked down at her, a heavy, unreadable emotion swirling in his dark eyes.

Willa froze, her vision suddenly blurring with tears.

"Randal..." she whispered, her voice cracking.

Randal arched an eyebrow. "What? Getting emotional? Don't think a few tears are going to wipe our slate clean. Like I said, you still owe me."

Willa choked on a laugh, the overwhelming rush of sentiment instantly colliding with helpless amusement.

"Is it physically impossible for you to just be nice for five seconds?"

Randal yanked her flush against his chest. "Absolutely."

On the drive back, Willa leaned against the passenger window, watching the city blur by in a daze.

As the car cruised past a dilapidated block, she suddenly bolted upright. "Pull over."

Randal signaled the driver to stop. "What's wrong?"

Willa pointed frantically at the street. "Look."

It was a crumbling alleyway, anchored by a tiny bakery whose weathered sign was completely illegible.

But Willa recognized it instantly. It was a spot she had practically lived in as a kid, a bakery that had been serving the neighborhood for forty years.

The owner, a sweet woman in her sixties with snow-white hair, still woke up before dawn every single day to bake fresh pastries.

The last time Willa visited, the woman had mentioned she might shut down next year so her son could finally let her rest.

Staring at the rundown shop, a brilliant idea exploded in Willa's mind.

"Randal, I'm going to turn this heritage series into a full-blown brand."

She dove headfirst into video editing, determined to adapt these stories into a visually gripping format.

A week later, Randal dragged Willa to an outrageously exclusive private gala.

He kept his fingers laced tightly with hers the entire night, refusing to hide her for a single second.

The elite crowd eyed Willa with a toxic cocktail of invasive curiosity and naked disdain.

Everyone in this zip code knew Randal was on the verge of announcing his engagement to the Sterling heiress, Scarlett.

So what the hell was he doing parading an irrelevant nobody around the room?

Three drinks in, a man with a sleazy grin swaggered over, cocktail in hand. "Mr. Yates. Aren't you going to introduce us? Who's the gorgeous plus-one?"

Whispers erupted instantly as someone recognized her as the journalist Randal had aggressively defended at the business forum a few weeks prior.

A vicious sneer cut through the chatter. "Wait, isn't that Zack York's girlfriend? Damn, Mr. Yates, since when did you get off on stealing your buddy's leftovers?"