Chapter 2

"Speedy" was the wreck I salvaged from a junkyard. Over six years, I used race winnings to buy top-notch parts, piece by piece. Every night, drenched in sweat, I painstakingly crafted every inch of her metal in the garage with my own hands. She was more than just a race car; she was an extension of my soul.

After training ended, the parking lot was hauntingly vacant. "Speedy" was gone. My heart sank instantly, and a chill ran through my body. In the surveillance room, I watched as two of Gregory's men carefully drove her away. I tried calling Gregory, but his phone was off. An overwhelming dread washed over me like a tidal wave.

Just three days earlier, I'd spent seventy-two hours installing a newly developed turbo system on "Speedy." My body couldn't keep up, and with a high fever, I was taken to the hospital. In a haze of feverish confusion, I vaguely overheard a nurse taking a call: "Yes, Mr. Carter, I'll keep her distracted as long as I can."

It was all premeditated. I dragged my weakened body out of the hospital to track down "Speedy." A contact informed me about a "special feature" at tonight's prestigious auction in the city. I dashed into the bustling venue, feeling like a fish out of water among all the elegant attire and wine glasses.

The auctioneer's booming voice rang out: "Next up, the legendary racing car 'Speedy'!" My breath nearly stopped. On the big screen was my beloved car, polished to perfection, glittering under the spotlight. Anger flared in my chest, my fingers turning white from the pressure.

Gregory, in a tailored suit, gracefully took the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, this car is no ordinary vehicle," he said, scanning the room with a smug smile. "Like its owner, it's wild and untamed." "But tonight, whoever can tame it will take it home." The room erupted with knowing laughter.

I stood in the corner, feeling as if I were in a frozen dungeon. He was using me and my car as the butt of a joke. The auction began, and prices skyrocketed swiftly. Each bid stabbed my heart like a dagger. When the bidding hit millions, the crowd gasped. Gregory raised his paddle, doubling the price. "Astronomical bids," he flaunted his power this way. My "Speedy" had become a tool for him to showcase his wealth.

The auction ended, and I stormed backstage. "Gregory! How dare you!" My voice trembled. He turned, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before regaining composure. "Iliana, calm down. I’m protecting you," he said, his voice sickeningly gentle. "Someone wanted to maliciously bid for it; I couldn’t let it happen."

I almost fell for his lies. Until I saw the look he gave Rosemary. In that look was pride, showing off, and a tenderness I never received. The last shred of hope inside me extinguished.

"Here’s the key, Rosemary," Gregory handed "Speedy's" key to her. "Haven’t you always said you liked it?" "Consider it a gift for your birthday next week." "But only after Iliana’s race. Then you can drive it however you please."

My world crumbled. He even remembered her birthday. Rosemary took the key, squealing with delight. She deliberately walked up to me, twirling the key on her fingertips. "Thanks, Iliana. I’ll take good 'care' of it."

My throat tightened, unable to speak. "Oh, the color is so boring," she frowned, gesturing to the staff. "Repaint it pink, and get rid of those tacky decals." "Redo the interior to suit a lady; those racing seats are far too hard."

Each word felt like a knife cutting into my heart. Those designs were crafted by my own hands, filled with my passion and dedication. Gregory stood by, silent. His eyes were fixed only on Rosemary's jubilant face.

I once believed he respected my profession and my passion. Turns out, even that respect was an illusion. "Speedy" was not just a car; she represented my dignity, my belief. Now, they desecrated her with their filthy hands.

I turned and left the venue with a resolute stride. I took out my phone and dialed Hayden’s number. "Hayden, I need your help," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. My heart felt numb, unable to feel the pain.

Six years of dreams, six years of love, six years of devotion. Tonight, all buried together.