Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38 Race on the Mountain

That is so cool!

40%.

Finished

Right outside the gate was a sharp turn. Instead of slowing down, Margaret hit the gas-leaning into a badass drift that made the tires screech.

In no time, she spotted Clara’s sports car up ahead.

Clara was in a great mood. That bumpkin will definitely be ate again.

Just thinking about Margaret getting chewed out by the teacher made her grin.

But then, a thunderous motorcycle roar exploded behind her.

A heavy-duty bike shot forward like a bolt of lightning, losing in fast.

Clara’s eyes widened as she saw it in the rearview mirror Is this person out of their mind? Going that fast?

The motorcycle caught up to the sports car in the blink of an eye.

Even at that breakneck speed, the rider had one hand free-tossing a bottle of mineral water straight at the

car.

“Ah! Help!”

Clara screamed as the bottle smacked against her windshield. She jerked the steering wheel wildly, and the car swerved toward an oncoming vehicle.

She slammed on the brakes!

But inertia was too

The

sports car crashed head-on into a big tree.

The headlights shattered on impact.

Clara sat frozen in the driver’s

seat, her face as white as sheet. She was in shock-too scared to move.

If she hadn’t hit the brakes in time, her car would’ve definitely skidded out and flipped over. She’d almost

died in a car wreck!

Her hands and feet were ice-cold, like she’d just stepped back from the edge of hell.

That motorcyclist is insane!

This is practically attempted murder!

She was going to find out who that was—no matter what

Meanwhile, Margaret was tearing down the road on the motorcycle, way over the speed limit. Every traffic camera along the way flashed as she zoomed past.

The main road was backed up, so she swerved onto a mountain shortcut.

What she didn’t know was this road was already blocked off.

At another intersection, a group of Capaville’s richest heirs had hired several foreign racers for a motorcycle

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Chapter 38 Race on the Mountain

race.

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Finished

Her fourth brother, Raymond-himself a champion racer-was right in the middle of it all, the most eye- catching one in the crowd.

In an open spot on the mountain road, several fancy sports cars were parked alongside a few sleek, custom- painted heavy motorcycles.

A group of young men stood nearby, surrounded by glamorous, curvy models.

A guy with dyed yellow hair stared at the high schooler in a uniform-who oozed confidence-and said, half-unconvinced, “Raymond, can’t believe you actually showed up.”

Raymond had a cigarette dangling from his lips. He shrugged casually. “You guys are practically shoving money at me. Why the hell would I say no?”

Raymond’s silver hair was bold and eye-catching. His features were sharp and handsome, with a small earring glinting in his ear. His school uniform had a few rips, giving him a rebellious, bad-boy vibe.

When he spoke, he sounded cocky-arrogant, even.

Raymond was a famous troublemaker at school, a total Bully.

Smoking, drinking, fighting, skipping class-he broke every school rule without a second thought.

That’s why, even at 19, he was still in his senior year of high school, having repeated the grade twice.

His words left the rich heirs speechless. They’d raced against Raymond countless times, and not once had they won. Collectively, each of them had lost over 100 million dollars to him.

“Hurry up. I’ve got class to get to.” Raymond tossed his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with his foot impatiently.

His arrogant, dismissive attitude infuriated the others, but there was nothing they could do about it. They had to bite their tongues and hold back.

“Fine. Same rules as before: if you win, each of us gives ou 10 million. If you lose, you pay each of us 20 million,” one heir snapped.

“We hired the silver and bronze medalists from recent world championships. You’re gonna lose this time!”

Sure, Raymondis good-but he is just a national champion. How could he stand against world-class runners-up?

Raymond glanced at the foreigners, his tone dripping with contempt. “A bunch of losers who’ve only ever gotten second or third place? You think they can beat me?”

In Raymond’s mind, there was only one person in the notorcycle racing world worthy of being his rival— the legendary “Death,” who’d won three consecutive world championships and was the undisputed king of the track.

But after all these years, it was time for a new world champion.

A sharp, determined glint flashed in Raymond’s eyes.

“We’ll see about that! Just wait and watch how you lose!” he heirs gnashed their teeth.

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