Chapter 7

The tires screamed against the asphalt as the car spun, the guardrail rushing closer.

The rear end slammed into the barrier with a sharp crack of splitting metal.

At that moment, a red supercar came in from the side and hit her at a precise angle.

The driver had picked the safest point of impact — the rear wheel arch — which wouldn't trigger the airbags but would absorb as much of the force as possible.

Bang!

The two cars locked together. Tires dragged across the ground in a shower of sparks, and the sharp smell of burning rubber filled the air.

Half of Sylvia's car hung over the edge of the cliff, teetering on the brink.

Benjamin pushed open his door, crossed over in a few strides, pulled her door open, unclipped her seatbelt, and hauled her out of the driver's seat.

The moment they reached safety, the silver-grey race car slid down a little further, wedging itself in the gap in the guardrail and swaying back and forth.

Sylvia looked at Benjamin on unsteady legs. "Thanks."

Benjamin glanced at her, his eyes dropping to her right hand, where a shallow cut ran across the back — a graze from the broken glass.

He reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulled out a dark grey handkerchief, and held it out. "Your hand."

Sylvia paused, looked down at the cut, and took it. "It's nothing."

"Your brakes failed, and you held it together until the last corner before you lost control. Your reaction time and car control are solid." A quiet note of appreciation showed in Benjamin's deep eyes.

Sylvia looked up at him, a little surprised.

"But you didn't try to downshift before entering the bend."

Sylvia narrowed her eyes. "Downshifting would've meant taking my right hand off the wheel. At that speed, the risk was too high. I chose to hit the wall."

A low laugh escaped Benjamin's lips. "Right call."

In the distance, Manuel came racing over like a madman. He jumped out of the car and ran straight to Sylvia, his face white as a sheet. "Sylvia! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He looked her up and down, his voice shaking, panic written all over his face.

"I'm fine." Sylvia gave his arm a reassuring pat. "But Manuel — my brakes just went out."

Manuel froze for a split second, then his face went hard. He spun around and yelled at the team manager who had just caught up behind him. "Find out what happened! How do the brakes just fail? Who touched that car?"

The team manager nodded over and over, then turned and ran to get someone to tow the car back for inspection.

Manuel took a slow, deep breath and turned to Benjamin, extending his hand. "Mr. Carrington, thank you for saving Sylvia today. The Martinez family will show our gratitude properly."

"It was nothing. What matters is she's alright." Benjamin shook his hand.

"Sylvia, let's go." Manuel put his arm around her shoulders and walked her toward the car, his voice still rattled. "If anything had happened to you, how would I have faced Mom and Dad."

Sylvia glanced back. Benjamin had already gotten into his car.

She looked away.

They returned to the club's lounge.

Manuel helped Sylvia sit down on the couch, then immediately turned to pour her a cup of hot water and pressed it into her hands.

He grabbed a blanket from somewhere, fussing and fumbling as he wrapped it around her.

"Sylvia, are you cold? Is anything hurting? The doctor's on his way to check you over. It's okay now, you're safe."

Sylvia held the warm cup and watched him rush around. Something in her chest softened. "Manuel, I really am fine."

Besides, she wasn't that fragile.

"Good, that's good." Manuel murmured to himself, still shaken, as he sat down beside her.

Nora hurried over and grabbed Sylvia's hand. "Sylvia! You scared me to death — are you okay? That was so dangerous. I nearly burst into tears."

"Did you?"

Sylvia glanced down at the hand gripping hers and pulled it back.

Nora's hand froze in midair.

Just then, the team manager walked over with a grim expression, hesitating like he wasn't sure how to begin.

Manuel looked up at him. "Did you find anything? What happened?"

The manager paused, glanced at Nora, and held out his phone. "We found something. The brake line was cut on purpose."

Manuel looked ready to explode. Sylvia, calm as ever, pulled out her phone and opened the live feed from the garage.

It was footage from the small recorder she'd installed under the chassis when she was modding the car — meant for testing her own data. The image was sharp and clear, catching every frame of Nora crouching down and cutting through the line.

When the video ended, Manuel stood completely still. The shock in his eyes curdled into pure disappointment as he looked at Nora.

"It was you."

Nora shook her head frantically. "It wasn't me! Manuel, please believe me, it really wasn't me."

Sylvia set down her cup and looked at Nora. "So you wanted me dead. Is that right?"

Nora cried harder. "I didn't! Sylvia, I swear I didn't."

"Too bad for you — I'm not dead." Sylvia read her thoughts aloud. "Grandpa gave me his shares. Mom and Dad treat me well. Manuel takes me racing. So you hate me for that?"

"That's not it! I didn't, I really didn't."

The slap landed sharp and clean across Nora's face. Her crying cut off. Her cheek burned.

She stared at Sylvia in disbelief, her hand flying to her face, eyes filling with resentment. "You hit me?"

Not once in her life had her parents ever raised a hand to her.

"Did you not deserve it?" Sylvia rolled her wrist. "You tried to have me killed, and all I gave you was one slap. Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

"What gives you the right—" Nora seethed.

"The fact that I'm still alive. And the fact that what you did is enough to put you in prison."

Nora's lips trembled. She turned to Manuel. "Manuel, she hit me and you're just standing there watching? I'm your sister too."

"You've let me down," Manuel said quietly, shaking his head.

He'd hoped she'd changed. Apparently not.

Back home, the atmosphere in the living room was heavy.

The moment Linda saw Sylvia walk through the door, she rushed over and wrapped her in a hug, running her hands over her from head to toe. "Sylvia! Are you hurt? You scared me half to death."

Richard stood to the side, jaw tight, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Mom, I'm fine — see? I'm in one piece." Sylvia patted her on the back.

Once Linda was sure she wasn't missing any limbs, she turned to look at Nora. Her expression went cold. "Why did you do this?"

She still couldn't wrap her head around it. Nora — the girl she'd raised for eighteen years — could be this cruel.

Nora was still denying it, shaking her head through tears. "Dad, it wasn't me. It really wasn't."

"The camera caught everything. And you're still saying it wasn't you?" Richard slammed his hand on the table. "You tried to kill Sylvia!"

Nora flinched at the sound, tears spilling over. "I never wanted to hurt her, I just — I just—"

"Just what?" Linda's eyes were red. "We raised you for eighteen years, and this is how you treat our own daughter? Nora, what has the Martinez family ever done to you?"

Nora's lips trembled. She had no answer.

Richard let out a slow breath. "There's no place in this family for someone like you. You leave tomorrow. From now on, you have nothing to do with the Martinez family. Don't ever come back."

Nora couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Dad — you're throwing me out?"

"Sylvia got through this time. What about next time? I'm not willing to take that chance." Richard closed his eyes, suddenly tired. "Consider these eighteen years a loss. We shouldn't have brought you into this family."