She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 53

The official didn’t bother responding to Jackson. He read the ruling. “After review and discussion, the officials unanimously determine that Lester’s Team, Car Number Six, driver Quiana, committed a violation. The team’s results are hereby void. Due to the severity of the conduct, Lester’s Team is suspended from competition for five years effective immediately.”

Lester exploded. “What?! On what grounds are you saying we violated anything?!”

The officials shoved the evidence forward. “This is a unanimous decision. If you disagree, you may file an appeal.”

Loyce hadn’t expected anyone in the crowd to actually report it. Still, people saw what they saw.

Lester’s team had sponsors. The drivers lived on that money. With a five-year ban, sponsorship would vanish overnight, possibly with penalties attached.

The men who’d been defending Quiana minutes ago now looked like they’d swallowed poison.

Lester panicked. He surged toward Loyce, trying to get past Hugo and the others.

“Loyce! Tell them Quiana didn’t violate anything! Please, don’t let them ban my team! My dream, my career... everything I’ve built will be destroyed!”

He was finally afraid.

Loyce just smiled, a small, almost gentle curve of her mouth that somehow felt crueler than rage.

“That’s not up to me,” she said. “Besides, didn’t you all say Quiana was trying so hard? If her ‘mistake’ gets you banned for five years… well, that’s not so bad, right? Everyone will understand. She did it for you.”

Jackson finally snapped, rounding on Quiana, who was still bleeding at the mouth. “Look what you’ve done!”

The rest of the drivers—those who’d stood by her seconds earlier—stormed off in disgust.

Quiana, realizing she’d detonated her own life, scrambled to the officials, pleading. “This was my error—mine alone! It has nothing to do with my teammates. Please, just ban me. Don’t ban my brother’s team. I’ll take responsibility!”

One of the officials shook his head. “Relay racing is a team honor. Win together, lose together—that’s the core principle. And Quiana, we have enough evidence to show your braking was not accidental.”

“I swear it was!”

The officials’ eyes turned openly contemptuous. Then they pulled up the vehicle sensor logs, and Quiana went silent.

His phone started ringing nonstop. The club’s manager shouted over the line, furious and barely coherent. “Are you out of your mind? Sponsors aren’t just pulling out, they’re demanding compensation! And you kicked Loyce off your team? She’s basically family! Did you seriously think Quiana and Loyce were in the same league? You played favorites until you blew up the whole club!”

Lester couldn’t say a word. The data wasn’t fake. Everyone had seen it. His team’s championships had been built on Loyce running herself into the ground to buy time, and he’d taken the glory like it was his due.

Now the backlash was here, and it was eating him alive. The trophies at home—once his pride—suddenly felt like the cruelest joke.

On the podium, Loyce smiled, but her eyes flicked to someone who shouldn’t have been in the crowd. She froze.

Then, without warning, she shoved the trophy into Hugo’s hands and jumped down from the stage. She cut through the spectators toward the figure standing calmly at the edge of the light.

The man was tall and lean, posture effortless. A black coat fluttered slightly in the wind, revealing a crisp shirt beneath, collar loosened just enough to show the hard line of his collarbone.

Streamers brushed his lashes; he didn’t bother to swipe them away. He simply let them fall, looking lazily amused—yet dangerous, like a wolf pretending to nap.

Loyce stopped in front of him. “Why are you still here?” she asked.