Chapter 23

Nathaniel rubbed his temples, suddenly remembering.

Alexander Graves had come back to Willowbrook.

The Falcon and Graves families had always been the most prominent aristocratic dynasties in the city, their ties deep and unbreakable. He and Alexander had been inseparable since childhood.

Alexander's return was today, and now Isabella, Sebastian, and Arabella were all waiting at The Velvet Lounge.

Arabella's bubbly voice crackled through the phone. "Nathaniel, get your butt over here already!"

Arabella had been smitten with Alexander for years. Her ultimate fantasy was to become his wife, but the man had impossibly high standards—no woman had ever held his attention for long.

"I'm on my way," Nathaniel said, rising from his chair.

Honestly, Harrison going out to flirt with random men was none of his business. Why should it bother him?

A small-town girl with nothing better to do than chase after men—how utterly shallow. She could never measure up to Isabella.

Let her play her games. Who cared who she entertained?

That evening, a sleek Ferrari roared down the winding road.

Gabrielle, riding shotgun, laughed as the wind whipped through her hair. "Harrison, where the hell did you get this car?"

Harrison adjusted her oversized sunglasses, her dark hair flying wildly behind her. "Nathaniel gave it to me."

Gabrielle's irritation toward Nathaniel softened slightly. "Okay, the man might be a complete ass, but at least he's generous. Checks, cars, mansions—he throws them around like candy."

Harrison smirked. True enough.

A sudden engine growl cut through the night. A silver Lamborghini, heavily modified, pulled up beside them.

Some of Willowbrook's elite had a taste for street racing and custom cars.

The Lamborghini's driver—a devastatingly handsome man—leaned out, flashing a grin. "Hey, gorgeous. Never seen you around before. How about we exchange numbers?"

Harrison hadn't expected a pickup attempt mid-drive.

She ignored him and slammed the accelerator. The Ferrari shot forward like a bullet.

"Damn!" Gabrielle whooped, gripping the seat. "Harrison, you're insane!"

Harrison smirked. She'd raced professionally overseas—shaking off some rich playboy was child's play.

Then her smile vanished.

The Lamborghini was gaining. Fast.

The man arched a brow, his smirk widening—this just got interesting.

Harrison gritted her teeth.

She floored it again, the Ferrari screaming down the road.

The Lamborghini matched her move for move. The two supercars tore through the streets, drawing stares from bystanders.

At an intersection, Harrison feinted left, then swerved sharply into a narrow alley.

The Lamborghini tried to follow—only to be cut off by an oncoming truck.

Alexander slammed the brakes, watching helplessly as the Ferrari disappeared. Just before it vanished, a slender hand emerged from the window—flipping him off with a mocking thumbs-down.

He burst out laughing.

After years abroad, he'd returned to Willowbrook and found someone fascinating.

Alexander pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of the Ferrari's license plate.