She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 50

Quiana was trying to kill Loyce!

But Loyce only curled her mouth into a cold smile. The in-car camera caught the expression—reckless, fearless, almost feral—as her left hand left the wheel and flicked a mechanical switch on the center console.

“Click.”

Two rows of ice spikes shot from the undercarriage and bit into the road. The car clung to the turn like a rock climber’s grip. Even with only inches between her front bumper and Quiana’s rear, Loyce didn’t touch her. She executed a perfect, terrifying wall-hugging line and came out of the corner in first place.

Quiana’s car slid at the exact same point. The expensive auto-balance system stuttered under the hail interference, and the car spun like a top.

“No—no!” she screamed, slamming the brakes, making it worse. The car skated sideways toward the cliff edge, rear wheels hanging over open air.

At the last possible second, an emergency rescue hook fired up from below the track and caught her chassis.

“Lester’s Team, Car Six, recovery in progress! Race continues!”

The stands erupted. “That driving! Are you kidding me?!”

Loyce’s car shot past like an arrow loosed from a bow and vanished into the storm.

In the pit, Lester stared at the big screen as if his brain had stopped working. Just a single, hollow, and stunned phrase slipped out: "We're finished."

Loyce now led by a full fifteen seconds. But the real monster had only just arrived. A gale hit the summit, crosswinds at nearly hurricane strength.

“Loyce! Wind speed is over the safety threshold!” Hugo yelled into comms. “Do you want to slow down and—”

“Shut up.” Loyce cut the channel. Her car became a blurred black shadow in the storm. On the dashboard, the RPM needle punched past the redline, the engine screaming like it was dying.

And then a crack split the road ahead.

The commentator nearly broke his voice. “The track has cracked from the cold! Officials are waving the red flag!”

Loyce didn’t slow. Fifty meters before the crack, she yanked the wheel.

With fans watching from the stands, Quiana hadn’t expected him to explode publicly. Her face tightened—humiliation, anger, and panic all fighting for space.

“I was trying to stop Loyce from passing me! I thought I could make the corner! And you didn’t even properly check my tire wear, of course I lost control in conditions like that!”

Lester’s face twisted. “Now you’re blaming me? Your skill is garbage. You’ve trained for ages and you’re still dead weight!”

Quiana’s expression flickered like a broken signal. She shoved him off and tried to leave.

But in the stands, fans were already hurling soda bottles down, shouting curses. At this level, off-the-books betting was everywhere. Lester’s team had dominated for years, so the highest stakes had been placed on them. Now they hadn’t even made the top three, and people who’d lost money were looking for someone to punish.

A bottle smacked Jackson in the head. He snapped, turning to scream at the crowd. “Our driver defected at the last minute! She knew all our habits, all our lines and she took our secrets to Hugo’s team! That’s the only reason they won! Otherwise, how could we lose?!”

“I’m filing a protest!” Lester seized on it instantly, fury turning opportunistic. “This isn’t fair. I’m reporting it to the officials. They need to disqualify Loyce!”

Hearing that, the crowd latched on, shouting for an investigation and demanding the judges “do a full review.”