Don't Mess with the Girl with Candy novel Chapter 220

Juniper glanced at Kurt’s car. It was a flamboyant, gaudy red, decorated like some kind of butterfly. It was hideously ugly!

“Juniper, look! That’s Melvin’s car!” Kurt exclaimed.

Following his gaze, Juniper saw a modified, matte blue race car parked in the number one lane. The door opened, and a tall, well-built man in a racing suit stepped out. His back… it looked so familiar, like she had seen it somewhere before. Juniper narrowed her eyes, a strange tightness gripping her heart.

“That’s Melvin Steele,” Kurt explained. “The champion of the last two F1 competitions. They say in the industry that the only one who can match him is himself… and J.” He sighed. “Ugh, it’s bad luck to even mention J.”

Whenever J came up, Kurt got depressed. If J had just agreed to race, would he be training like a dog right now?

“Shut up,” Juniper snapped, her tone cold. “Get in the car.”

“Right away.” Kurt immediately fell silent and obediently climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Do a lap. I want to see what your problem is.”

As Juniper fastened her seatbelt, she glanced outside and happened to make eye contact with Melvin, who was inspecting his vehicle. Both were wearing helmets, their features obscured, but even through the windshield, Juniper could feel his hostility. He was looking at her with disdain.

She glared right back. As she tried to place where she knew him from, the car shot forward with a roar.

“None.” The assistant took the helmet, answering respectfully.

J was Melvin’s idol. For three years, J’s racing had inspired him to train relentlessly, just for the chance to compete against J on the same track. But then, without warning, J had announced the retirement. Three years had passed without a single trace of J. The Orient Country region wouldn’t even have qualified for this year’s F1 competition under normal circumstances. Melvin had pulled a lot of strings to make it happen, all in an attempt to lure J out of hiding.

No news? Melvin sat on the sofa, sipping a cold soda, his eyes dangerously deep. J would never sit back and let Orient Country region’s racing legacy die. What had gone wrong?

“And…” Melvin set down his drink, his expression turning serious as he smoothed his hair. “Is there any word on my family?”

Melvin had known since he was a child that he wasn’t a Steele by birth. He had parents, brothers, sisters, but he had been separated from them in an accident when he was young. He had been searching for them for years, but the clues were so scarce that he often wondered if his memories were just a figment of his imagination. Perhaps… perhaps his family was long gone.