Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40 The Bad Class

But after rounding that bend, he knew the truth-he was simply outskilled.

Total technical defeat.

A few minutes later…

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Finished

The finish line was just ahead. As Raymond crossed it, the heirs were already waiting there. Seeing his bike come in first, their faces fell.

“Dammit! It’s Raymond again! Those world-class racers are such losers!”

“There goes my ten million dollars!”

Raymond parked the bike and took off his helmet. Glancing at the heirs, he said in surprise, “You guys outdid yourselves-managed to hire someone that good”

He naturally assumed the mysterious rider was one of their hired hands.

Raymond lit a cigarette, smoking it down to the filter in one go. He exhaled a long cloud of smoke before fixing his gaze on the heirs.

“Spit it out. Who was that? Some big shot?”

Whoever it was, they must’ve been an internationally renowned racer. He just couldn’t put a name to them.

Raymond was fuming-pissed at how badly he’d been qutmatched.

“Huh? What are you talking about? You’re the first one here!” The heirs were confused by his question.

“What do you mean?” Raymond’s eyes turned cold, sharp as a knife. The heirs couldn’t help but shrink back

in fear.

They explained cautiously, “When we got here, we didnt see anyone else at all. You’re the first to finish.”

“What?”

Raymond’s jaw tightened. That meant the rider had crossed the finish line before the heirs even arrived.

How is that even possible? The mountain road’s full of hairpin turns, and these guys took a straight shortcut! And that rider’s still faster than them?

“There was some lunatic who crashed the race earlier. Probably still stuck halfway!” One heir’s face twisted with malice. “When that crazy woman shows up, we’ll teach her a lesson she’ll never forget!”

Raymond zeroed in on the key detail. “Was the bike she was riding black?”

“Yeah! And get this-it was a woman’s voice! Real nice, cold… like a total dominatrix vibe.”

Raymond’s expression turned icy. Not only had he lost he’d lost to a woman!

He had to find her.

Raymond swung his leg over the motorcycle again. “Same bank account as before. If I don’t see the money transferred by tomorrow, I’ll come collect it myself.”

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Chapter 40 The Bad Class

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Finished

His tone was arrogant and commanding. The heirs didn’t dare object, forcing out ingratiating smiles. “Don’t worry. The money’ll be there on time.”

Raymond said nothing more. He slammed the throttle, and the bike roared away like a bolt of lightning.

As soon as he was gone, the heirs’ smiles vanished. “Fuck this guy! If Edward wasn’t his brother, I’d have killed him by now!”

“What now?”

else? Wait for that

crazy woman here. We’ll take care of her when she shows up!”

The heirs waited at the finish line for half an hour-yet no sign of the motorcycle.

“Dammit! A turtle would’ve gotten here faster!”

“Guess that crazy broad wiped out and tumbled down the mountain?”

*****

Margaret hadn’t raced like that in ages. She was in a great mood-so much so that she didn’t stop when she passed the school. She just hit the gas and kept going.

She rode the motorcycle around half of Capaville’s inner ring. By the time she finally returned to school, the second class had already started.

She parked the bike at the gate, slung her backpack over one shoulder, and strolled toward the entrance at a leisurely pace.

Margaret was a senior in high school.

In this school, Class 19 was the most dreaded class in this elite high school, the bane of every teacher’s

existence.

The students here were all unruly troublemakers. Some had terrible grades, some skipped class, some loved fighting, some lived to cause chaos. This class was a magnet for bad apples.

To make matters worse, every student here had a powerful background-either wealthy heirs or the children of high-ranking officials. The

teachers didn’t dare even raise their voices at them, let alone

discipline them.

It was already class time.

In other classes, students were buried in their books, listening intently to their teachers. Not a sound of chaos.

But Class 19? Even before reaching the door, you could hear the racket inside-talking, singing, musical instruments, and the clatter of game controllers.

It was noisier than a wet market.

The teacher on the podium was long since numb to it all. He’d given up trying to control them, and was now napping with his head on the desk.

When he’d first been assigned to this class, he’d wanted to go all out and make a difference.

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Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper