Justin could sense what Stella was thinking, and his expression turned serious. “Dispel that thought from your mind. I can’t bring myself to hand you over to him. What kind of man do you take me for? Someone who would just give you up to a man like a plaything?”
The word “plaything” hung heavily in the air, and Stella stayed silent for a long time. The harshness of the term seemed to have hit a nerve. Justin said nothing more. He simply focused on the road, maneuvering the car as they sped ahead.
He didn’t believe Weston would go so far as to crash his car until it was no longer drivable. No matter how powerful and reckless Weston seemed, he had to care about his reputation. Justin’s own position in the industry might not be as strong as Weston’s, but he had his own connections. He didn’t believe Weston could crush him so easily.
As Justin glanced in the rearview mirror at the Cullinan, he knew shaking Weston off would be a challenge. He pressed the accelerator, speeding up in an attempt to lose him.
Weston, however, was not in a rush to stop Justin’s car. He followed closely, his pace leisurely—as if he was enjoying a game of cat and mouse.
Justin gritted his teeth, his pride bruised for the first time by another man. His eyes darkened, and with a swift turn of the wheel, he veered into a narrow, deserted road. He pushed the car to its limits, speeding as if he were in a race.
Stella’s face paled, and she couldn’t help but exclaim, “Mr. Hall…” When a man’s competitive streak was triggered, it was nearly impossible to stop him. Justin shot a quick glance at her and quickly focused back on the road. “He won’t give up that easily. The only way to make him stop is to shake him off!”
With that, he pushed the accelerator down further, continuing, “Don’t worry. I used to race cars when I was younger. I’ll help you get rid of him.”
Though Justin was now past forty—well beyond the age of youthful recklessness—he couldn’t help but feel exhilarated. It felt oddly good to relive some of those wild moments, even if they were just for the sake of a woman.
No matter their age, men always sought excitement, and Justin Hall was no exception.
As he glanced at the Cullinan still tailing him, he sneered, expertly turning the steering wheel. The car drifted, and he thought he had finally shaken Weston off as he took the next bend. But to his surprise, Weston pulled up alongside him.
Weston, unfazed, rested his arm on the open window, holding a cigarette between his fingers with one hand on the wheel, as if he weren’t even trying. His demeanor was nonchalant, and the sight of it stung Justin’s pride.
“Seems like Mr. Ford is determined to play the villain,” Justin muttered coldly.
Weston didn’t even glance at him. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke drift out the window behind him. His face, sharp and dark in the night, was full of mystery. “Since you’re the good guy,” he said casually, flicking ash from his cigarette, “then please do a good thing… Hand her over to me.”
Justin’s temper flared, and without warning, he slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt and spun around in a dramatic 180-degree turn, now facing the opposite direction. He floored the accelerator, his speed surging higher than before. Justin was clearly giving it everything he had.
Stella’s heart raced as the car shot forward, her stomach twisting with unease. She felt a sense of helplessness wash over her, unsure of how to stop the madness unfolding before her.
“There’s really no need for things to turn out like this…” she whispered softly, but neither man heard her. Even if they did, it was clear that her words wouldn’t stop the storm that was brewing between them.
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